Devil Among the Stars

by Macdragon

Summary:

The ISS Georgia picks up a stranger with a penchant for music.

Notes:

• For embraidery.

Ship’s Log: ISS Georgia 

 

1. 

All nights are dark in space, but it felt particularly stormy the evening we came across the escape pod. We were cruising through the Sagittarius Sector, on our way to pick up supplies. The Georgia is just a research ship, but we were the closest when we got the distress beacon, so we answered the call. Out there in the darkness of the viewport was an oblong vessel, striped red and white and constructed of a metal that didn’t look like something from earth. It gleamed eerily in the light from our ship.

We reached out with comms and there was no response at first, and I feared we were too late. But then, over the radio, there was a song. At least I thought it was a song. Something musical, low notes blending together. The music stretched into words. Help…me…

After some debate, we allowed the pod to dock. As one of the ship’s lead scientists, I was nominated to be the first to greet our visitor, along with a few others on my team. We donned containment suits and went to the loading dock. Being researchers, we had no weapons, so the ship’s security guard came with us, stunner drawn. Just in case. 

In the artificial light of the dock, the pod cast off iridescent colors. “Hello?” I called. There was a pause, and then as we neared, the pod opened in half like a clamshell. There was a figure sitting in the pod, wearing a black helmet. It looked like a humanoid form. As I held my breath, they reached up to remove the helmet. I saw the hands were not dissimilar to a human’s, but with six fingers instead of five, and tipped in black claws instead of nails. 

They pulled off the helmet and I suppressed a gasp. At first glance, they seemed human, but their eyes were a deep, glossy black. The skin appeared human except for a slight blue undertone, like someone lacking oxygen. Bluish lips pulled away from sharp teeth in something that might have been a smile. Grey, curled horns extended from their head, behind pointed ears, poking up from long, bright red hair. The extraterrestrial was a ginger. 

Overall, not the weirdest being I’d seen, but there was something unsettling in how almost human they were. 

“Hello,” I repeated. “You are on the ISS Georgia. Can you tell us who you are?” 

They opened their mouth and there was that sound of deep musical notes again. It seemed to echo in my brain. Then, it coalesced into human speech. Our guest seemed to have the ability to adapt to language. 

“Hello.” They stood up and stepped out of the pod. They were tall by human standards, and had two arms and two legs. They were in a black jumpsuit. “My name is” There was the singing, the first notes sounding vaguely like lo-seeee. 

“Lucy?” The security guard ventured. 

“It’ll do.” Again that sharp-toothed smile. I wondered if smiling was something they did in their culture or if they had met humans before and picked it up. “I am…a performer.” They seemed to pick up confidence in speaking as they went. “I traveled with a…circus? I think you would call it. Our ship was destroyed. Zuhak missiles.”

I shuddered. The Zuhak were a predatory species that sought to expand their empire across the galaxy. I wondered what they had wanted with a circus ship. 

“We were peaceful,” Lucy continued. “I mean no harm.” 

“Did anyone else survive?” One of my colleagues asked.

“No,” Lucy replied, the single word deep and resonant, followed by a mournful note in what I assumed was their native language. 

“Are you injured?” I asked. 

“No,” they said again, before reaching back into the pod and picking up something that sparkled with the same luminescence as the pod, like molten gold. It was shaped like a figure eight and had strings across the front. “My … was damaged, but I can repair it.” 

The word for the thing apparently had no translation but I thought it looked like a fiddle. 

We invited Lucy on board, and promised to drop them off at the next station with refugee services.

 

2. 

I heard two of my lab assistants talking about our guest and calling them a devil, because of the horns. It’s in jest, though, because the devil has become popular on the ship. It started the first day, after Lucy had been checked over by medical, cleaned up, and given fresh clothes. In a ship uniform, they looked even closer to human, one of us. Their blending was more skillful than simply appearance, however. The first night, when everyone was gathered in the lounge after dinner, Lucy walked up to a table of crew members playing cards and asked to join. 

Lucy won the game and six more after that. 

“My people like cards,” they said with a shrug when I stopped by and commented on their luck. There seemed to be a gleam in the depths of their black eyes. I looked at their hand, clutched in clawed fingers, and surmised that it was a winning one again. 

“Will you join us, Johnny?” they asked, glancing over their shoulder at me. Lucy had difficulty pronouncing my full name, so they had already given me a short nickname. None of my assistants would have dared. 

Scientists didn’t mix with crew much, but I didn’t want to let our guest down. I took a seat and dealt in for the next round. I was predictably bad at cards, not least because of how distracted I was by Lucy. They talked and joked through the entire game, distracting everyone with their charm. I marveled at how they had picked up human humor so quickly. I was sure now that they must have interacted with humans before. 

The devil doesn’t seem to need sleep. They were still playing when I put my cards down and begged off to go to bed. 

 

3. 

Lucy fixed their—I’ll keep it calling it a fiddle, because it definitely is some sort of musical instrument. 

Now, I have a soft spot for anything musical. I play the guitar myself. I’m an amateur. I always had a passion for music, but my real skill lay in the sciences. I still played anyway, and it was handy to pull out during social evenings in the mess hall. It reminded me of home, too. I would play old earth songs, thinking of my home planetside. Lots of land, a wraparound porch, and genetically modified chickens in the coop. I’d joined the mission a few years ago and still had a few more to go until we’d circle back around to earth, and I missed it. 

Sometimes, in the evenings after dinner, folks share their talents. And sometimes, if I’ve had a glass of the engineered wine at dinner, I bring out my guitar. 

Last night, I was strumming my guitar and singing softly. 

“Fire on the Mountain” run boys, run
The devil’s in the House of the Rising Sun
Chicken in a bread pan pickin’ out dough
Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no

No one was paying attention to me, which suited me fine, but when I looked up, I saw Lucy standing at the door with his golden fiddle in their hands, staring at me with those glossy eyes. When my song was over, they applauded, tucking the fiddle under one arm and making their way through the mess hall. 

“A charming song, Johnny,” they said, with that vicious grin. “I’d like to play one of my own.”

“The stage is all yours,” I said, taking my guitar and returning to my table. People were perked up now, curious about what the devil was going to play. 

Lucy took their place at the front of the room. Flicking their red hair back, they lifted the golden fiddle, took up the bow, and began to play. The resulting sound was both alien and achingly familiar, bringing me back to my grandfather playing the fiddle when I was small. There was something eerie about it too, though, as if it called up a mournful chorus. There was so much depth to it, it didn’t seem like only one instrument. 

Then, the devil sang. 

Lucy sang in their native language, strange, twisted notes that rose and fell through the room. It was mesmerizing. Everyone fell silent, even the rowdy card game in the corner, hanging on the song. I was held riveted myself. Lucy looked over the crowd and I could swear our eyes met, those black depths looking into my soul. When Lucy finished, applause broke out, and cheers for more. Lucy entertained us for the rest of the night, and no one dared look away. 

 

4. 

Something strange happened tonight. I was coming back to the lab to check on one of our fruit fly experiments—those flies require around the clock monitoring sometimes. Usually I have an assistant do it, but this is an important test and I didn’t trust anyone else. 

When I got there, all of the lights were on and there was an odd metallic scent in the air. At first, I was annoyed that one of the lab assistants hadn’t cleaned up properly, but then I heard the soft whimpering of someone crying. 

I came around the other side of the lab bench and found the lab assistant, Peter, curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and staring at nothing. His lips were blue, his fingers blackened as if with frostbite, and tears poured down his cheeks. 

“Peter!” I called his name, crouching down beside him. He didn’t respond at first, but then he slowly turned his eyes to me. 

“It’s gone…they took it…” he mumbled. 

“Took what, Peter? What did you lose?”

“It’s gone,” he said again, and broke out into another sob. 

I took his hand. It felt like ice, and I gasped. “Have you been in the cold storage?” 

He shook his head, mute, and I gave up and called for a medic. 

Sometimes, people lose track of their mind out here in space. I can only imagine that’s what happened, but it left me shaken. I plan to spend the rest of the night with a glass of wine and a comforting simulation vid. 

 

5. 

We had a call from a military vessel passing by. Whenever I talk to Military, I’m nervous, but maybe also a little jealous. It feels like I could be doing so much more, out there in the universe, instead of monitoring fruit flies and collecting dust from different planets. I always get a bit touchy when they ring us up, and I hoped my nerves and eagerness didn’t show on the comm. I had a smile plastered on my face and relayed a bit of our progress, but the general didn’t ask questions. 

“We wanted to alert you to an odd occurrence recently,” the general said. “A Zuhak ship was found drifting in space, abandoned. No signs of life on board, and no reply when we attempted to reach out. “

“You reached out?” I blurted, surprised they had engaged with the Zuhak at all. 

“We have a neutral stance on the empire, you know that,” the general said. “And if I’m being honest, some trade links wouldn’t go amiss…anyway, our comms received nothing but silence in return. The ship was just floating in space, unmanned. Very unlike the Zuhak, to leave one of their ships vulnerable to discovery like that. Anyway, we’re monitoring it. Actually, we might ask one of your engineers to take a look at the ship…”

“I’m not letting one of my people on an abandoned Zuhak ship,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. 

“We’ll see,” he answered mildly. “Anything new on your end?” 

I could tell he wasn’t really interested, but I had no intention of boring him with the fruit fly experimentation. “We picked up an extraterrestrial life form a few days ago.”

The general’s brows shot up. “And you didn’t report it sooner?”

I shook my head. “It was a refugee case, and this is a neutral ship, too.” I didn’t know what had gotten into me, talking back to Military so much. “They seem harmless.”

“More than harmless,” one of my colleagues piped up. “I think Lucy has added some much needed levity to the ship.”

The general chuckled at that, seeming to accept this. “You would make best friends with the first alien you pick up,” he remarked, and I winced at his callous use of the word alien. I decided not to mention that Lucy had actually been the victim of a Zuhak attack. I didn’t like the idea of Military poking around our guest any more than they needed to. We signed off, and I went back to work. 

Speak of the devil, I found Lucy lurking outside my office. “Can I help you with something ?” I asked

“I have a proposition for you,” they said, a twinkle in their black eyes. 

“A proposition,” I repeated, and I felt my cheeks growing warm for some reason. I went into my office, taking a seat at my desk and gesturing for Lucy to sit in the other chair. 

“A competition,” they said. “A friendly contest between Science and Crew, a talent show of sorts. We used to do it on the circus ship, and it was a great morale booster.”

“You think morale needs boosting?” I asked, although my colleague had just said as much in our conversation with Military. 

Lucy rolled their shoulders in an easy shrug. “It can’t hurt. I’d like to organize it, if you don’t mind.” 

Maybe Lucy was bored, as a refugee without a role on an industrious ship. They were right, it couldn’t hurt. “I’m fine with it, go ahead.” 

“And you’ll join, won’t you?” Lucy asked with a hint of a smile. 

I normally would have said no, but with Lucy inviting me directly, I found myself nodding. “I’ll bring out my guitar.”

“Excellent.“ Lucy rubbed their hands together. “I’ll have to think of a tempting prize.” They left, looking pleased with themself, and I found myself musing on what song to play for the talent show. 

 

6. 

It happened again. A maintenance worker this time, found in the ducts blue-lipped, shaking, and nonsensical. Peter still hasn’t recovered enough to return to the lab. Medical mentioned something about a shared hysteria, because nothing physical could be found wrong with either of them. Blame it on deep space. 

The incident put some anxiety into the air, but that soon dispersed in light of the preparations for Lucy’s competition. Everyone is buzzing about what to do for the talent show. Evenings are filled with practicing for the big night. Lucy collected sign ups for the competition, and a large number volunteered. They brought me the list of names to peruse in my office. 

“You’re right, this is good for morale,” I said. “The question is, which team will you be on?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, you’re welcome with the scientists if you’d like,” I said, trying not to show how much I actually wanted that to happen. Of course everyone wanted Lucy on their team. 

 

7. 

Another shipmate has been found with the affliction. Worried gossip fills the hall. One was odd, two was mysterious, but three is a pattern. Tonight, playing cards, I heard Lucy ask what had happened, and they received all sorts of theories in response. I had to step in and discourage speculation. 

But I have to admit the incidents got under my skin too. Last night I woke shaking from a nightmare, one where a snake with pitch black eyes chased me through the ship. I put on my robe and went down to the kitchen to get a cup of tea, to help me back to sleep. 

When I got to the kitchen, I turned on the light and suppressed a scream when I saw a figure already sitting at the table in the middle of the room. My heart was racing. It was Lucy. They looked up, blinking slowly in the light. There was a glass of wine resting on the table in front of them, and they were shuffling a deck of cards. The fiddle sat beside them on the table, in the new case one of the engineers had created. 

“I apologize,” they said smoothly. “I don’t need the light as much as you do. Are you all right?”

“A little restless,” I said, tightening my robe and wishing I had taken the time to change into my uniform. I went over to the drink machine, grabbed a mug, and hit the button for tea. 

Lucy held up the deck of cards. “Would a game help?”

After a moment of hesitation, I nodded. I picked up my mug of tea and carried it over to the table, sitting down beside Lucy, who continued to shuffle. “Rummy?” I suggested. Lucy had learned all of our games by now. 

“Good choice,” they agreed. 

We started to play, Lucy humming under their breath as they dealt. I studied their face from behind my hand of cards. They looked serene, a small smile on their face. “Is this what you do all night while the rest of us are sleeping?” I asked. 

Lucy chuckled. “It does get very boring, but I have my ways of keeping myself entertained.” They set a card down. “Sometimes interesting things happen in the night.”

“Have you noticed anything strange lately?” I asked. 

“Nothing more strange than the blackness of space,” Lucy said, with a wink. 

“A fair point.”

We played in silence for a bit while I sipped my tea. To my surprise, I won the first game. “You let me win!” I accused, because I had never seen Lucy lose a card game since they arrived. 

“I would never,” they said, but they were smiling, showing their sharp teeth. I finished off my tea, chuckling to myself. Putting the cards away, Lucy reached for the fiddle. “Do you mind if I play something?”

“Go ahead.”

Lucy drew the bow across the strings in a sibilant note, and then began to play a familiar tune. I recognized it as the song I’d been singing the first time Lucy played for us. “How did you learn that?”

“I just have musical ear.” Lucy tapped the side of their head with the hand holding the bow and played the second verse. I sang along, softly. 

“Where did you learn that song?” Lucy asked when it was finished. 

“My grandfather, back on Earth. He was an excellent fiddle player.”

“Hmm.” Lucy set their fiddle down again and leaned in closer to me. “I think you’re more talented than you give yourself credit for. You should sing that song at the competition. Perhaps we both will, and see who does it better.” 

“Really?” I smiled. I knew Lucy would outshine me, but I liked the idea of us working together. “Maybe we should.” I held back a yawn. The cards and music had made me relaxed again. 

“Go back to bed,” Lucy said indulgently. “I hope you sleep well.”

I did, like a log for the rest of the night, and the notes of our song followed me into my dreams. 

 

8. 

Lucy signed up to join the Crew at the talent show. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I could hear them practicing late at night, the sounds of the golden fiddle filtering down the hall to my bunk. I dreamed of that fiddle, and I dreamed of Lucy’s long fingers playing it. Those dangerous claws, delicately handling the bow. 

It looks like we will be competing against each other. I’ve started practicing my song, perfecting it for the talent show. I never cared how skilled I was before, but I’m pleased at the improvements I see. I think Lucy is inspiring me. Nothing like a little rivalry to awaken the muse. 

 

9. 

The eve of the talent show arrived with much excitement. Someone had started a betting pool. The crew had decorated the mess hall with streamers and balloons left over from someone’s birthday party. There was free flowing wine, and the crowd was bustling by the time the competition began. 

We alternated performers, Crew then Science. There was a lot of music, some poetry, a couple of dancers, and one contortionist. Lucy was grinning the whole time, looking right at home, and I thought we had produced a talented circus ourselves. 

I was the last one to perform for the Science team. I took my place and strummed my guitar, letting the music carry me away as I sang. There was a good amount of applause and cheers when I finished. My music had improved since Lucy arrived, and it showed. 

Lucy finally took the stage as the grand finale, and of course then everyone forgot my performance, but I could hardly complain. Lucy was radiant. Their fiddle sounded like a whole chorus, enchanting the room. When they finished and took a flourishing bow, applause erupted, echoing through the mess hall. 

Lucy won that round. There was no question about it. Morale was successfully boosted, and everyone was left half in love with the devil. 

 

10. 

On the night after the talent show, I woke with another nightmare and found myself walking the halls, trying to shake it from my bones. I turned towards the kitchen, deciding to get some tea and wondering if Lucy would be there again. As I turned the corner, I heard a muffled cry, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw what at first appeared to be a couple in an embrace. Then one figure slipped out of the other’s arms, crumpling to the ground. 

“You took it…” I recognized another one of my lab assistants, echoing what Peter had said. Then the person that was still standing turned and I let out a gasp that was barely muffled behind my hand. It was Lucy, black eyes gone red, a wicked grin on their face. 

“You!” I said. “It’s been you all along. What are you taking from them?”

“Johnny.” Lucy stepped towards me, closer and closer, while I remained frozen in place. Our noses almost touched. Lucy reached out and ran a finger down my cheek. “Only their souls, their delectable souls.”

I wanted to scream, but I was speechless. Wanted to run, but I was rooted in place. I looked into Lucy’s red eyes and then everything faded to black as I, too, slipped to the ground.

When I came to, I might have thought I imagined it as part of my nightmare, but the lab assistant was still there, catatonic. Her lips were blue, like the others. There was no sign of Lucy. Maybe I had been seeing things. Maybe the hysteria Medical spoke about was happening to me, too. 

I should be ashamed of myself, but instead of calling security, I fetched Medical for the lab assistant and claimed I had stumbled across her already like this. Then I went back to my room. 

 

11. 

This morning, Lucy showed up at my office door with a cup of tea. They greeted me with a smile, making me question what I had seen last night. But I had to make sure. I took a sip of tea and regarded Lucy across my desk. 

“The Zuhak ship,” I said slowly. “What really happened?”

“Clever, you’ve finally figured that out.” Lucy bared their teeth in a smile. “I was the one who lured the Zuhak ship to us, using my song. They attacked, and then I drank every last one of their souls.”

So that explained the abandoned Zuhak vessel found drifting in space. I suppressed a shudder. “I’m going to have to report you to security,” I said. 

“No one will believe you,” Lucy said, and I knew it was true. I suspected now that Lucy’s allure went beyond a natural charm, and I thought they would be able to bewitch security into believing them over me. 

“I won’t let you keep doing this,” I said. 

“Oh, I thought as much,” Lucy said, “So I have an idea. A rematch of the competition, me versus you. Whoever plays the best song wins. If you win, I leave the ship. If I win…” My breath caught as Lucy paused. “I get your soul.” 

I didn’t see any way I could win, with the thrall Lucy held over the crew, but I had to protect the ship. I had to at least try. “It’s a deal.” 

Lucy reached their hand across the desk, those long, dangerous fingers extended towards me, and we shook on it. 

 

12. 

Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with a solid plan for defeating the devil except to play my best. The night after making our bet, there was solar storm outside, slowing our progress. It added to my sense of unease. All day, I tried to focus on my work, but could only fret about the contest.

The next night, I brought my guitar to the mess hall and waited. Johnny showed up surrounded by a cluster of adoring crew members, and they grinned at me across the room as they wove their way to the front. 

We flipped a token to see who would go first. It was the devil’s turn. Lucy took up their fiddle and played that chorus, and it was like I could imagine the voices of all the souls Lucy had stolen joining in. Would mine soon join the chorus? 

They took a bow and winked at me. “Best of luck,” they trilled, passing me on the way back to their place with the crew. 

I picked up my guitar, settled myself on a stool at the front of the room, and took a deep breath. I had chosen my grandfather’s old song, and I prayed for a little bit of magic of my own as I began to sing. I put every ounce of emotion I could into the notes: how much I missed Earth, the longing I felt to do something more with my life, how it felt to look out the window at the darkness of space. 

“Fire on the Mountain” run boys, run

 The devil’s in the House of the Rising Sun 

Chicken in a bread pan pickin’ out dough 

Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no”

When I finished, there was applause to rival Lucy’s reception, and I saw a few tears shed among the audience. I’d done well, I knew I had. Was it good enough to win? 

…No. 

The crew voted, and it was a tie. 

What did that mean? 

Lucy came up to me after the crowd had dispersed, holding the golden fiddle, a satisfied look on their face. 

“Will you leave?” I asked. 

Lucy tilted their head, tapping their chin as they considered. Then, they smiled. “Yes. But only because I’m beginning to get bored.” 

 

13. 

The next day, we pulled into a station two days late because of the storms. I volunteered to escort Lucy off the ship. I knew they wouldn’t really go to refugee services, and I wondered where they would head next. Maybe it was irresponsible to let them loose on the world, someone who could take down a Zuhak ship just like that. 

“This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” Lucy said as we walked out of the loading dock and into the bustling station. They looked ready for a day of travel, their red hair tied up, the fiddle in a case over their shoulder. 

For a moment, I wondered what would happen if I followed. What might be out there, waiting. 

“Goodbye, Lucy,” I said, and watched as they disappeared into the crowd. 

When I got back to my bunk, I found a surprise waiting for me. A golden fiddle, a replica of Lucy’s. I wondered how they had fabricated one. Another bit of magic. There was still so much mystery in the universe, so much to learn. 

I picked up the fiddle and began to play.