Darker Space

Lisa Henry

Brady Garrett is back on Earth. He’s living with his partner Cam and they’re raising his sister Lucy together. Life is better than some feral reffo from Kopa has any right to hope, and Brady knows it. He’s even grateful for ...
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Brady Garrett is back on Earth. He’s living with his partner Cam and they’re raising his sister Lucy together. Life is better than some feral reffo from Kopa has any right to hope, and Brady knows it. He’s even grateful for it, most of the time. He loves Cam, even though he’s afraid that he’s not good enough for him, but he’s still having nightmares about the alien Faceless. 

Cameron Rushton loved being a pilot once, and he still feels the pull of the starlight. He’s building a life with Brady now, and with Lucy. Life is good, even if it’s not without its complications. Both Brady and Cam are dealing with the endless cycle of interviews, tests, and questions that the military hierarchy hopes will reveal the secrets of the aliens who could very easily destroy humanity. They have each other though, and together they’re making it work.

But from out in the black, Kai-Ren is still watching and everything Brady and Cam think they’ve won, they stand to lose all over again.

  • Note:
    Darker Space
Some guys are meant to be heroes. I was never one of them.

There was probably never a time in my life when I didn’t want to try to become a better person, while at the same time seeing the sheer fucking impossibility of striving for anything at all, so fuck it, right? Disappointment was always easy enough to get used to, whether it came from my dad’s quiet, rueful smiles, or from that hot, angry place inside me that knew exactly how worthless I was, how pointless, and how I’d never be anything better than the reffo piece of shit I’d been born.

I stole. I lied. I got in fights.

I dropped out of school to look after my baby sister.

Kept stealing and lying and fighting, because even though I wanted to be better, those things had become the pattern of my life. The wanting came late at night, in the quiet moments, in the dark, and the certainty came with it: I could change. I could be better. But all my certainty, all my dreams, were as fragile and ephemeral as moments captured on old photographic negatives, created in the darkness and the quiet. Light and rough handling destroyed them. The daylight killed them.

In the daylight I wanted to be better still—I wanted a better future—but I discovered I had nothing in me but resentment and nowhere to direct it.

My dad’s job in the smelter ate his lungs away, day after day, but I didn’t know that yet.

Stole. Lied. Fought.


When I was sixteen, I was conscripted. After four weeks of basic training, I was sent to Defender Three, into the black, to sit and watch for the Faceless. To protect the people back home, except nobody ever said how being cannon fodder for aliens helped anyone at all. The Faceless could rip through our Defenders like they were rice paper if they wanted. If they ever came back.

Then, one day, they did.

First they sent Cameron Rushton, captured years before, as their messenger, harbinger, or whatever. I was his medic, his pacemaker, or whatever. When I touched him, it happened. Suddenly, we shared a heartbeat. We shared our thoughts and our dreams. I saw everything the Faceless ever did to him. More than that, I felt it. Claws sliding down his spine—my spine, as he—I—pulled uselessly at the restraints. Everything they did to him, I shared. I relived it every fucking night.

I still did.

I came up from sleep like from under water, gasping.

I sat bolt upright, shivering in the darkness as the tendrils of the dream slipped away.

More nightmares.

I couldn’t remember the specifics of the dream, but I didn’t have to. Fucking Faceless. Fucking Kai-Ren. My skin crawling as he touched me.

It took a little while for the unease to fade, and then I couldn’t sleep anyway. I lay back down and pulled the sheet up again and watched the blades of the ceiling fan cutting through the night. In the darkness they were hazy, and I didn’t know if I could actually see them at all, or if I only imagined I could. If I squinted, they seemed to stop altogether.

Beside me, Cam dreamed on.

I was still trying to be a better person. For Cam, for us. Still trying, and still falling short by miles. It wasn’t supposed to be so hard, was it? The happy-ever-after bullshit.

I turned my head and looked at the book on my nightstand. It was an old hardcover, the title long ago worn off the cracked spine. The cover was stained. The pages were so worn the edges felt as soft as velvet.

I’d learned to read from that book. It had been my mother’s, when she was a kid. Why she’d kept it, I don’t know, but she’d written her name in the inside cover in uncertain, childish letters: Jessica. Underneath that, separated by a few inches and about twenty years, was my name: Brady. And under my name an uneven scrawl put there by my little sister that was supposed to say Lucy but was mostly just a scribble.

I didn’t remember my mother, not really. Sometimes I imagined I did, but most of the stuff I knew about her didn’t come from my memory, but from what my dad had told me about her. Her dark hair, her crooked smile—both things I’d inherited—and the way she could light up a room just by walking inside. I missed out on that one, I guess. Anyway, she’d died before I could make any memories of her that belonged just to me, so I borrowed my dad’s, and I took the book as well and learned to read by listening to Dad’s voice and following the words along the page.

It was a book of fairy tales.

When I was a kid, I’d loved those stories. Maybe there was something in them that I recognized. Hungry, dirty kids—though never as hungry or dirty as in real life—getting saved by magic, by love, because they were good and clever and brave. They deserved it; they deserved not to be poor.

I got conscripted when I was sixteen, and my dad packed the fairy-tale book in my bag. The book went all the way into the black with me, to Defender Three, where I hardly looked at it, because I didn’t want to get laughed at or have the pages ripped out by some asshole who hated me, but mostly because it hurt so much to think of home and leaving Dad and Lucy behind. And later, when I found out Dad was sick, I hated even thinking of those stories he’d read to me in his gravelly voice, from the book my mother had once held.

Everything in my life then was loss and darkness and fear.

And then there was Cam.

If I were still a kid, maybe I’d say that Cam was like my fairy-tale prince, come to rescue me from my shit life. Except I’d never been good enough or clever enough or brave enough to deserve a handsome prince, and fuck it, life is not a fairy tale. Love isn’t.

I turned my head again to look at Cam’s profile in the darkness.

We weren’t a fairy tale, but he’d saved me all the same, and I was trying my hardest to be the sort of guy he deserved.

Sleep eluded me.

After a while I climbed out of bed and crept through the dark apartment. I checked on my sister, Lucy, first. She was sleeping, curled up in a tight little ball in her bed with her blankets pulled all the way up to her chin. I shut the door quietly and headed back to the kitchen. Lucy’s birthday present was sitting on the kitchen counter, shiny paper gleaming dully in the scant light, loops of ribbon cascading off it. I took my cigarettes from the top of the refrigerator, then slid open the door to the small balcony. I leaned on the railing and smoked, and tried not to look at the stars.

I looked at the city instead, across the road to the apartment buildings that receded down the hill. Most of the windows were black at this late hour, but the city was never truly dark, not like Kopa had been. People like me were still awake, I guess, watching their flickering blue television screens or moving in silhouette across the occasional tiny, illuminated squares of their windows. During the day I could see all the way to the park by the river if I leaned out over the balcony. At night the view was hidden by the darkness.

At the end of the street, on the crest of the hill, a steady stream of headlights swept by.

Cities were bigger once, bigger than anything we had left, but only the smaller ones had survived the coming of the Faceless. That was a long time ago, three generations past, but the Earth still had the scars: huge, empty charnel grounds of twisted metal and concrete, where tens of millions of people had died. A number like that, it isn’t real. You don’t see the faces when there are that many of them. They become less than they ever were. Just a blur. Just a number too big to really visualize. Too big to mourn.

Nobody rebuilt.

How could they?

And why would they?

Those big glowing cities of glass and steel, shining like beacons even in the middle of the night. Whole countries lit up. Whole continents. They were nothing but fucking targets, and the Faceless had burned them off the surface of the planet.

Sometimes I wondered if there was any time when people looked up into the sky and didn’t think about the Faceless. If we ever looked at the stars and weren’t afraid.

If the Faceless came once, they could come again. And all the Defenders hanging in the black couldn’t stop them. The Defenders were just as fragile, just as useless as the treaty that Cam had devised and Kai-Ren had signed.

I flicked my cigarette butt over the railing, watching as it arced through the darkness and landed in a burst of embers three floors down. I lit another one and closed my eyes, and waited to feel tired enough to drag myself back to bed and sleep.

The nightmares had been bad this whole week. They usually were when I was worrying about stuff, even dumb stuff like tomorrow.

The door slid open, and I turned around.

Cam blinked at me. “Brady. You okay?”


“I thought you quit,” he said, nodding at the cigarette.

I considered blowing smoke in his face just to be a prick about it. “I’m going to.”

“Okay.” He was obviously too tired to give me the whole lecture. “Just don’t throw your butts in the garden. It pisses off the rental association.”

“Fuck the rental association.”

Cam wiped his eyes. “You won’t say that when we’re living in a box in an alley.”

“I could handle it, city boy.” I turned back to the view.

Cam slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. “I know you could.”

The warmth of his body crept through me. I let the cigarette burn down to my fingers, then flicked it over the railing.

“Brady.” Cam sighed.

“You’re not the boss of me, LT.”

Cam slid one hand under the elastic of my pajama pants, his fingers moving against my abdomen. “Is that so?”

“Jesus,” I said. “If the rental association doesn’t like cigarette butts, I bet they’ll really hate if you jerk me off on the balcony.”

Copyright © Lisa Henry


Customer Reviews

5 stars = I freaking LOVED this book!!! Review by asgoodrich
I really appreciate it when an author can write a series of books in which each book builds upon the last, but each is its own distinct chapter in the characters’ lives. That’s exactly what Henry has done with both books in the Dark Space series. Darker Space continues the story of Brady and Cam’s life together since reuniting with Lucy and resuming their military service, on Earth. While Brady had a possibility of advancement when in space, back on Earth he’s been relegated to janitorial work and as much as he hates it, he comforts himself with Cam and Lucy – the only things in his life worth fighting for. But when residual effects from Cam and Brady’s time with the Faceless begin to reappear, the men are left wondering WHO they will be fighting against.

Henry has a wonderful way with words in Darker Space. With the story being told from Brady’s point of view, his introspective nature sucked me into his mindset. I felt Brady’s fears, his frustrations, and his anger at the military officials, the Faceless, and the universe. Even more, I felt his love for Cam and Lucy. And all of this was magnified when the mental connection between him and Cam was reestablished and expanded. While Brady reiterates in the story time and time again that he was never meant to be a hero, as the story unfolds, we find that he was far more of a hero than anyone ever realized – except for Cam and Lucy, because Brady would always be their hero. We learn that Brady was perfect in his imperfections and Cam and Lucy weren’t the only ones to recognize him for who he was.

There is a LOT that goes down in this installment and I’m trying my best not to reveal any major spoilers. I do have to reveal that after a series of events, Cam and Brady find themselves back on the Defender Three along with a cadre of other officers. While Brady’s self-doubt regularly leads to him feeling worthless, it is his experience as an enlisted man (basically drafted into service) that helps save most of his companions’ lives once things go bad on the ship. When forced to face his biggest fear, Brady also realizes that the fear of losing Cam and Lucy far outweighs all other fears he had – making him numb to them. Cam and the other officers might have been fighters, but Brady was a survivor and he learned just how far he would go to survive for those he loved. Because of this, I felt we saw a huge amount of character growth and development on his part. Although we don’t get the story from Cam’s perspective, we still get to see some of the events play out from his point of view through his and Brady’s connection. I actually loved how Henry made that connection work to give us events from more than Brady’s perspective – even if they were still filtered through his awareness. I LOVED the scene in which Brady flips off Doc and actually laughed out loud. But the best part, the very best part, is that while Darker Space is a whole story that concludes this chapter in Brady and Cam’s lives, Henry leaves the ending open for the next chapter – not a cliffhanger, but rather a whetting of the appetite.

I received a complimentary copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.
Reviewed by Angela at Crystal's Many Reviewers!
(Posted on 12/31/2015)
Loved book one and book two didn't let me down. Want more! Review by BJ
4.25 stars.
I absolutely adored Dark Space, so this book really had a lot to live up to. At first Brady’s self-deprecation and whining was getting to me but with one little italicized sentence, my entire attention was captured and everything changed. The story had me locked on target and flowed quick and smooth.

Brady had to grow quite a bit in this story, and I admired all the changes he went through (sometimes kicking and screaming). More than ever, this book highlights the differences between Cam and Brady. Brady is brimming full of emotion, anger being high on the list, but also love and fear. Once things started moving, I enjoyed his inner monologues, irreverent way of looking at everything, and liberal use of foul mouthing even in his internal dialogue and the middle finger. Cam’s faith and steadfastness were perfect. I adored Cam. Although I must say that little Lucy very nearly stole the show. What a great young character. Her fearlessness, wonder, trust, and even her bratty/spoiled moments were perfect.

The emotional connection between the two main characters is perfect, even during the parts where they struggle—maybe even more so at those parts. Brady put Cam on a pedestal; one he felt he wasn’t good enough to ever reach… and this is sort of his journey to get there maybe. The book has steam, but not quite the heat of the first book. Well, except that I absolutely adored the final scene with Brady, Cam and Kai-Ren. Now that was lovely! And the end? Well, it’s really more of a beginning. I absolutely can’t wait for the next installment.
(Posted on 12/24/2015)

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