text: Caspian Viator had been staring out of the *Lancelot*’s oval window at the purple planet’s clouds that rippled across its surface like ocean waves. Every now and then he would see the effervescent clouds breathe out swirls of mist into the violet atmosphere and evaporate once it hit the bitter cold of space. No matter how many times he saw this bubbly display he was amazed. It had only been two days since his arrival at Perceptio and already all the stories he’d heard about this mysterious planet were coming true. The radiant beauty of its ethereal purple atmosphere, which glowed like the Northern Lights back in Reykjavik, to the ocean of clouds that flowed throughout the planet’s surface. While Caspian was thrilled to see Perceptio up close he was also perturbed, for if the beauty of the planet was true then so must its beast. A detailed report from the last mission stated that the crew of the *Gawain* experienced strange disturbances ranging from hallucinations to mental distress. Richard Albatross, the sole survivor of that failed mission, swore that his crew became suicidal, despite passing their weekly psychological evaluations without a hitch. After extensive analysis from the Interstellar Academy's greatest minds, it was concluded that the crew members of the *Gawain*, including Mr. Albatross, had suffered from space dementia. In fact, Mr. Albatross, it was said, had lost all sense of mind and ended up in a private asylum. This final report was upsetting for the Interstellar Academy. Ever since the discovery of Perceptio, and the possibility of life existing there due to its vaporous oceans, space agencies had been rushing to get teams out to the lone planet in order to study it firsthand. For the Interstellar Academy it had been a decade since the *Gawain* fiasco. During that time the Academy had sent several unmanned satellites to conduct research, but the satellites could only do so much. After much preparation, the Academy was ready to send another manned mission out to Perceptio. The *Lancelot’s* crew was meticulously selected. Perceptio was eight light years away from Earth. In the expanse of the universe this was nothing; however, it was still far enough for a person to go mad. The isolation of space was far more dangerous to the human mind than originally thought--the *Gawain*’s crew was proof of that. It was proposed that the best candidates to screen for the Perceptio mission had to be individuals who were not leaving behind a spouse or children. In addition, the perfect candidate had to be an only child with little to no close circle of friends and deceased parents. Therefore, the *Lancelot*’s crew was kept to the smallest number possible and had undergone extensive training both physically and psychologically during the decade respite. For Caspian Viator going out into space and observing a potential habitable planet was what he’d been preparing for his whole life. And now as he stood observing Perceptio’s majestic atmosphere from the safety of the *Lancelot*, he couldn’t help but feel a paroxysm of memories. He tried his best to remain in the present and focus on the magnificence of being in space and orbiting an alien world. But no matter how hard he tried to fight off those creeping images from the past, Caspian found himself reliving his memories. Not just any memories. It was the one memory that haunted him with relentless viciousness. It wasn’t that he hated the memory; on the contrary, he loved it because it reminded him of Katerina. But it was also the memory that, try as he might, always tore him to pieces. Ten years before enrolling at the Interstellar Academy on Earth, he went on vacation to Struga with his late wife, Katerina. She was one of the strongest and funniest women he’d ever met, and he was glad that he was able to share his life with her. But life has a way of taking the most precious things away from you without remorse. It wasn’t long after they’d arrived in Struga that Katerina began to complain of migraines. At first it wasn’t so bad, but within a couple of days her migraines became so powerful that she lost her sight, forcing them to go to the hospital. Once there doctors told Caspian that his wife had an aggressive form of longoniares that was eating away at her brain, and that there was nothing they could do for her at that point. His wife, his beautiful wife who he had fallen in love with, who he had given his soul to, was ripped apart by a bug, turning his beautiful world into a hellish and lonely existence. Caspian began to tear as he recalled Katerina’s image--her long brown hair, green eyes, and that tiny smile that only revealed her upper two front teeth, which looked like they belonged to a rabbit rather than a human, a fact he joked about with her many times. His heart felt like it was being wrung like a towel. Everything hurt inside him. And the thought that he would never be able to hold her or to share his life with her killed him. This was the reason he signed up for this mission. Staying on Earth would’ve been too painful for him. Only the darkness of the infinite ocean of stars could soothe his aching soul. “...okay, man?” said a voice from behind him. Caspian turned around and saw Valentine. “I’m sorry, Val,” Caspian said, wiping away the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “What’d you say?” “I said, are you okay, man?” Val frowned. “You look like you just received the worst news of your life.” “Oh, sorry about that. I-I was just remembering Katerina.” He paused. “God, I can’t believe it’s been ten years since she passed.” Valentine grimaced. “Katerina? Who’s that?” “My wife.” “Caspian, you don’t have a wife. You’ve never had a wife.” “What the *hell* are you talking about,” Caspian snarled. “Of course I do--did.” Valentine shook his head. “No, you don’t. In fact, the people aboard this ship were selected for this mission because none of us have or had a spouse or children or a significant other for that matter.” He pointed to Perceptio’s surface. “It’s the planet. It’s feeding you false memories.” “N-no, that can’t be possible.” Caspian rubbed his head. “Is it?” “You’re not the first one to be fed a phantom memory by the planet.” Valentine said. “Cable’s also fallen victim to it. She believed she had a daughter named Estella. She doesn’t. She’s never had children.” He frowned. “She even believed Albatross had stowed away on this ship, and she swore she had a conversation with him.” “Hey, Cas, what’re you up to?” Caspian looked over Valentine’s shoulder and saw Cable walking up to him. “Nothing. I think I fell victim to Perceptio’s effects or something.” he said. “If it wasn’t for Valentine bringing me out of my phantom memory, I think I’d be totally lost.” “Who’s Valentine,” Cable said, furrow-browed. Caspian glanced around the room and saw no one except Cable. “Cas, are you feeling alright?” He peered out the oval window at Perceptio, catching his reflection and nothing else. Caspian rushed to the *Lancelot*'s cockpit and set an immediate course for Earth. The Interstellar Academy, after reviewing what went wrong onboard the *Lancelot*, and committing Mr. Viator, began preparations for the crew of the *Tristram*.