Author’s Note:
Starwoven: Hear My Call has has been serialized here into 12 episodes on Substack, and now is also available as an ebook on Amazon
Ti Tayme had been drifting through space for two hundred years. In three days, the Origins, the GenOnes, the GAGAs—all of them—would be shuttled to their new world.
Talamh Ru. Home.
But space was Red’s home.
In three days, she would be … lost.
There had to be hundreds of family modules on Ti Tayme. The Finn module was probably the most frigid. The last pneumatic whoosh of the door confirmed Red was alone. A phantom chill prickled her skin, sharp as an urchin’s spines. Instinctively, she curled her fingers into the fabric of her sleeve, grounding herself in the cold bite of the recycled air. As sharp and sterile as the ship itself. The module wasn’t just sterile—it was soundless, the quiet of stillness closing in on its prey.
In the gathering pod, where it seemed like Red was the only one who ever gathered there, the quiet settled like dust on an airless moon. Her pink jumpsuit couldn’t mask the explorer’s heart, not as her magneto boots tapped across the smooth lumina tiles. Delicate metallic clinks echoed behind her, following in a rhythm that had grown comforting on her familiar journey.
She stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed her palm to the bubble window. A cool touch. Reaching beyond for the vast hollow of space.
You have to listen to be heard, little one. Poppy’s words floated through her memory. But listen to what? The past? The silence?
Red agreed with her father. The universe was too huge for someone not to be lurking on the other side. That’s what she told herself. Otherwise, her voice would have already been swallowed by the abyss.
She hoisted the beanbag beneath the window and grabbed EchoHub—her faithful ‘research assistant.’ Another comforting ritual. Echo had been her only companion since Poppy first presented her with the prototype on her eighth birthday.
“It listens to space,” he had said. “And it lights up when it hears something.”
Red had lit up with the gift—with the hope of discovery and connecting with something she believed was out there.
“Alright, Echo. Let’s see if the universe wants to chat today.” She rolled her eyes as she pressed record, muttering, “Whatever.”
After hundreds of recordings—and she would never say it out loud—her hopes were waning. Still, there were a few days left for the stars to crack open and spill their secrets.
The stars had always owned Red, drawing her toward something unseen. A pull that was raw instinct, woven into her bones like gravity. If the universe was empty, if no one was listening, then it meant something worse than loneliness. Isolation meant extinction. Connection meant survival.
EchoHub hummed softly … until it didn’t.
A whisper of static. A flicker. Then—
Her pulse slammed into her ribs as the verdant glow shimmered on EchoHub’s surface, flickering like a heartbeat.
A green flash!
It heard something.
Then—gone.
A sharp crack of static. A crushing silence. EchoHub dimmed.
Red’s fingers hovered, numb.
What had she just seen?
EchoHub remained dark, silent. The weight of loss pressed into her ribs, thick and immovable. Then—
A rude chime rang through the ship, sterile and indifferent. “Attention: Auxiliary power diverted for stasis vault recalibration in Section Twelve. No further action required.”
Red frowned. What pods?
And why now? The timing felt too precise. Too intentional. And what was Section Twelve?
Sealed within Ti Tayme’s lower decks was a dark assembly of stasis vaults—glass sarcophagi abandoned by all but two. Breath lines, expiration tubes, monitors, all quiet, but two.
Zophia Finn, the only awakened—awakening—human presence here, other than the timid shadow of a bumbling technician. She stood alone on one side of the observation glass, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She looked down at the pulsing, hissing tanks and monitors on the opposing side of the glass.
The hissing tanks. Her gaze flickered, her thoughts stuttering in time. She tried to go deep—but pulled back.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
Not officially.
Two remaining stasis vaults, still twitching with life. Both out of sync. The power surges had not really concerned Zophia. The two sleeping occupants, however, did.
Especially Heming Gurdjieff.
Gurdjieff. A man of careful words—and even more careful betrayals. Someone she had not forgotten. Could not forget.
Her hand hovered near the glass, fingers twitching before she forced them away. A cold breath curled in her throat. She had felt this before. Something doesn’t sleep quietly.
Then a whisper of thought pressed from within. The stars will burn you.
But what did it mean? The words she had heard before, but why always here in Section Twelve? The control panel called to her, but she withdrew her hand.
The technician paced a few steps back and forth before approaching and allowing the words to exit his dry mouth. “The stasis fields are holding.” His voice wavered slightly. “Stable. For now.”
Zophia’s gaze remained locked on Gurdjieff’s pod. The slowed pulse on his monitor blinked irregularly.
She exhaled, almost to herself, “And yet, some things wake long before they’re meant to.”
The technician shifted uneasily. “Ma’am?”
She turned, forcing herself to leave, though her feet hesitated a fraction longer than she intended. “Notify me if the fluctuations become unacceptable.”
She strode toward the exit, the sterile air pressing against her skin. Her reflection fractured across the observation glass, like a silent watcher of its own. Two pods.
Separation. Finality.
This was once me. The thought came unbidden, the image unwelcome. A girl pressing her hand against glass. A voice whispering, I’ll find you.
Nonsense.
Nothing had ever answered.
Then she was gone.
Red’s thoughts froze.
Her jumpsuit felt suddenly a touch too warm.
She tilted her head toward Echo as she pursed her lips.
What had just happened?
Next: Episode 2—Speak to Me
Looking for a different episode? Find it in the Starwoven Index.
Bonus Content
Curious about the world of Starwoven? Keep yourself busy between episodes with bonus content. Browse the Starwoven Section INDEX for lore notes, character cards, and companion content.
→Bonus content associated with Episode 1
From the first few sentences, I got the same vibe as when I started reading the novella, Binti—which I loved. It’s like the cold loneliness of space is a reading companion.