The Eternal Search for Completion of the Soul
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2004 by MasterDavid

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - Captain Esmerelda Petersen is known as "the Ice Queen"...until she finally learns to love while in command of a ship in orbit around a black hole. However, when one of her lovers is trapped in the gravitational well of the singularity, Esme risks her life to save him... only to find that she's brought something back to the ship that may change the future of mankind... if it doesn't kill them first!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Science Fiction   Group Sex   Interracial   Oral Sex   Slow  

Lieutenant Marcus Bird drifted in the debris field being pulled inexorably into the singularity and cursed himself for his stupidity. So many times he'd drilled into his men, "Safety first! Tether behind, then move forward!" That's why he'd never lost a member of the EVA maintenance crew under his command... until now. He'd gotten overconfident and sloppy, thinking that the magnetic soles of his suit would be enough to hold him to the ship as he visually inspected the hull for signs of trouble.

Of course, then came the trouble he didn't expect... an entire section of hull plating that looked stable to the naked eye, but, like an earthquake fault line, needed only the right combination of movement and pressure to become a disaster for someone. Marcus knew that he could have walked over that same section of hull perhaps another 100 times and, if he didn't put his foot in exactly the same spot with exactly the same force, he would have continued his EVA without interruption. Only the minute scanning capabilities of the magnetic resonance unit in engineering could have caught the anomaly before it burst open, and Marcus made a mental note that if... WHEN he got back to the ship, he'd have to arrange for the unit to be moved to hull and used to examine each hull panel for microflaws.

Marcus shivered inside his suit.

The likelihood of his being rescued was, like the flaw in the hull that had propelled him into space, microscopic. The pressure suits used by the Clarke's EVA teams did not have emergency homing beacons or powerful radio transmitters. By the time he'd gotten his bearings after being blown from the hull, his radio was already useless. For a while, he'd drifted perpendicular to the Clarke, at a right angle to the spot where he'd left the hull. It might have been 10 minutes... 20... Marcus didn't really know how long he'd stared back at the hull, waiting to see some movement that would indicate that someone was coming to pull him back into the ship.

Then the hull started to slide away to his left, and he knew that the singularity had finally started reeling him in. Five minutes later, the ship slid completely out of his field of vision.

Perhaps if he'd had some type of directional thrusters, Marcus might have turned himself to face the ship... perhaps. But some part of him was actually glad that he couldn't see the Clarke, which would likely be dwindling into a miniscule dot indistinguishable from any of the other points of light in the universe. For as long as he could hold out hope of rescue, if he didn't look back, he could imagine the ship being just over his left shoulder, and that at some moment someone would find a way to get him back.

He chose to hang onto that hope above all else.

Marcus shivered again. He was not truly cold, as the suit's heating unit was working well. But, psychologically, the void around him seemed to be leeching all the heat from his body. For a while, he had focused on cataloging the various shapes and types of debris floating around him, taking in only what was immediately surrounding him. That only occupied his thoughts for a few moments, and his gaze traveled outward. His mind subtracted the debris from his vision, until all that remained was the emptiness of vacuum, the nearest point of light so far away as to be almost a mirage. He thought about the illustrations of the singularity he'd viewed in Esme's quarters, of the estimations of where the event horizon lay, and he superimposed himself on that map as best he could estimate. He supposed that he would be dead before he ever crossed that imaginary line into territory no human had ever lived to talk about.

'What would happen to me, if I was still alive when I crossed that threshold? So many scientists and writers have speculated on what lies on the other side of that line. Would I remain trapped in the same moment in time, frozen in some Einsteinian loop? Would the gravitational forces suddenly pull my molecules apart, rending me to atoms? Could there be a dimensional portal, though which I could enter another universe, or travel to a different section of this one? What is waiting on the other side for the first human to survive the crossing?'

 
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