I'm falling into a dark chasm, arms grabbing for anything solid. My silent scream jolts me awake before I hit bottom. I grab the shoulder straps that hold me in place, sweaty but secure. Imagine dreaming of death by gravity in the weightlessness of space.

 

I reach for Teddy Mercury. He's tactile Xanax. I want to bury my nose in his patchouli-scented fur, but he's missing. I unhook and steady myself as I float. It's been nine months living above Mars on space station Mycos. I'm more graceful swimming down its corridors, yet no more popular. I reach another sleeping quarter where the crew has gathered. Are they meeting without me?

 

"Morning Amanita, bit of a lie-in?" says Jarvis, chief engineer, and resident blowhard.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, sharper than I plan, looking feverishly around for my bear. It's the only reminder of my Dad, my last known supporter in this universe.

 

"Hey, you ok?" asks Fariq, the station's physician.

 

Teddy's on the far wall; I excuse myself and grab him. Embarrassed, I start floating back.

 

"Snuggle time," Jarvis coos, wrapping his arms around himself.

 

I spin around. "Stay out of my stuff, Jarvis!"

 

"Oi, your Teddy floated here. I've no beef with you," says Jarvis, laughing. The laughter follows me; my temples throb with bottled anger.

 

* * *

 

Sealed within my laboratory, I finally have some breathing room. I'm pleased to see rows of mushrooms fruiting with a moon-like glow. I touch the growing medium, a mixture of Martian soil and human excrement. Its smell is no longer displeasing. The rich network of mycelium below the fungal colonies excites me the most. Their uses for construction, as well as medicinal and agricultural applications, are staggering. My heart races with an adrenaline rush. This new strain's hearty. Here, I am emboldened and confident.

 

* * *

 

High from success, I head toward the gym. Jarvis blocks the entrance. As I slide past, something liquid drips on my skin; a pungent scent surrounds me, bitter and earthy.

 

"About this morning…," Jarvis begins.

 

I swoon and bump into a stanchion. He reaches out, and the feel of Jarvis's hand on the raised hair of my arm is dizzying. My lips feel dry, and my throat is tight.

 

"What's that smell?"

 

"Your life's work, Amanita," says Jarvis smirking. He moves his other hand to the small of my back.

 

"It's Dr. Muscaria. Don't touch me!"

 

I push him off. Disequilibrium affects my race back to the sleeping quarters. My limbs no longer coordinate. I struggle to pull myself along the walls, looking over my shoulder. My body's rigid and clammy. I find Patrice, our team leader, and tell her everything.

 

"I hear your concerns and will set up a meeting."

 

"Patrice, I can't work with him! He calls me Dr. Shroom behind my back! He drugged me!"

 

Fariq enters, we once bonded during training, but Jarvis corrupted him. His superiority coats me like an oily residue.

 

"Hey, Amanita, let's do an early check-up. You're looking flushed and agitated. Patrice will join us." They nod at each other.

 

"Ask Jarvis what he sprayed on me! And what's that God-awful noise?"

 

There's a hissing sound that emanates from within the station walls. I make my way to the cupola, where windows display amazing views of Mars. A razor-sharp sound makes my eardrums vibrate, and my teeth clench. Lights flash in my retina in tempo with the sounds, and I see something detach from the station's hull!

 

I begin donning equipment for an emergency spacewalk. No one else seems to register the urgency.

 

"What are you doing?" asks Patrice.

 

"Can't you hear? The station needs repair, and someone must access the external hull, NOW!" I yell in desperation. Their wide eyes and relaxed stance are scarier than the alarms battering my skull. They eventually call for help.

 

* * *

 

I'm overheating and feeling smothered by people and sound. I block out the crew's pleas as I enter the airlock.

 

Sealed within, the voices shut off, leaving a drill-like sound boring into my brain. I activate the oxygen unit and prepare my tether. I inhale. The roar around me lessens, and all I hear is my breathing. I exhale. I take in the whiteness of the cylindrical room before opening into the black abyss of space. I push out, freeing myself from this orbiting prison.

 

Mars lies before me, glowing like embers as the Sun hits its surface. Its beauty eclipses me. I'm a worthless, insignificant, girl needing her Teddy. I am all alone.

 

I unhook my tether to enter the void.

 

As I free fall, a new force within emerges, fighting back. The self-doubt, ridicule, and loneliness that I swallow daily builds within. I release it with an anguished cry. The weight I've been carrying lessens. Tears escape in small balls and rise. They bounce around my helmet, forming a constellation of pain. I watch as they split from each other into smaller balls and splatter on the visor, reminding me of spores.

 

My spores! Clarity dawns with the brightness of a star. I'm not crazy! I know what happened. My arms flail as I try to swim back. The dark silent expanse of space starts to recede. It's replaced by the med bay's bright overhead lights and a monitor's hypnotic beats. An IV attached to my arm drips in medication. I'm strapped to the bed, secure.

 

Fariq hovers over me, his face awash with relief.

 

"Seal my lab! It's not Jarvis! It's my research," I croak.

 

"We know. You're safe now."

 

* * *

 

Resting, I contemplate the delicate mycelium beneath my mushrooms. Appreciate their silent communication, and contrast it with my self-imposed isolation. Connections are vital for survival, especially in space. Jarvis enters uncharacteristically quiet.

 

"I want to apologize," he says.

 

As we talk, a fragile bond germinates between us. It extends to connect and, with time, may grow.