Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #21 December 2015 | Page 14

Lights in the Dark
By Cody Lee Powell
The furthest depths of space never felt further
than during the holidays. Out here there were no
lights or trees to cut down, no fires to warm your soul
or carol singers going door to door. The closest you
could come to music would be the rhythmic hum of
the engines that chorused throughout the ship.

morose.
The very children we would be handing the
operation over to were quite aware of the melancholy
state of the passengers and crew. Unseen by older eyes
they plotted in the bowels of the ship, urged on by
vague and fleeting memories of tinsel and presents.
They had not forgotten the magic of waiting up at
night, hoping to catch a glimpse of a man dressed
in red. They were not content to stand idly by while
adults sighed and moped and sadly shuffled through
the ship.

Four years into our journey, we had all
accepted this as commonplace. It was not in the rules
that yuletide cheer was forbidden on our voyage, yet
it was generally accepted as frowned upon by the
Greater Alliance Military. Civilians such as myself,
while not under the direct command of GAM,
attempted to follow the guidelines that our staunch
protectors had no choice but to follow.

Under our very noses they quietly gathered
strings of lights and ornaments, trinkets from a past
that we could not quite forget. Raiding not only our
cargo bay but also our galley, the children began their
masterpiece in our now mostly abandoned observation
deck. We had long closed ourselves in from the
enormity of space, with the once majestic beauty of
the stars now a sickening reminder of our solitude.

As another Christmas approached, we had all
settled in for another dull holiday season. While the
many different faiths aboard our ship had their own
customs and holidays to celebrate, our guardians and
benefactors had long ago agreed on a standardised
holiday calendar. To this end, everyone in GAM
celebrated Christmas, regardless of their own beliefs.
Given that no one was celebrating anything this year,
it mattered very little.
We were part of a large convoy launched from
Earth in the year 2301. Several long range vessels,
each the pinnacle of current generation technology,
were travelling along in single file towards the
promise of a new land, though none of us would likely
live to see it. It would be our children that would first
lay eyes upon the new world we were to inhabit, most
likely showing their own children the gift that they
would leave to them. At the beginning of the voyage
we were filled with hope, but the many years in
space had taken its toll, and we had grown sullen and

We were all quite surprised on December
24th, when every passenger and crewman received
a summons from the captain. We all gathered in the
dimly lit wide room much as we had done in festive
anticipation when we had first left the orbital station
on our hopeful excursion. The great shutters were
closed as we had left them over the massive viewports,
keeping out the vastness and emptiness of space.
Most of us were uneasy, not enjoying the break in our
routine of seasonal sulking.
Finally the captain took to a podium that
stood at the far end of the great hall. A light turned
on him, illuminating just enough for us to see who
was speaking. Our disquiet murmur faded gently as

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