Superstition’s Night by Kit Campbell
“…and they reached the safety of the light, and all was well.” Amara turned off her comp-pad’s screen and placed the device on the side of Braedon’s berth. She stood, straightening his blankets, before bending to press a kiss to his forehead. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.” She retrieved the comp-pad and headed toward the corridor. “Mom?” Braedon called. There was a little tremor to his voice that gave her immediate pause. She returned to his berth, sinking onto the blankets beside him. “What is it?” “The story–why were they so afraid of the dark? What was in it?” Amara chuckled lightly, tucking the blankets tighter around her child. “Oh, dearest, there’s nothing in the dark. There never was. But this is an old story, one your grandfather used to tell me his grandfather told him, back when they were still on Earth. They didn’t know any better, back then. The dark was scary merely because they couldn’t see what was there, not because anything was.” She paused, gazing out the porthole at the stars beyond, the edges of the asteroid they inhabited just barely visible from this angle. “Besides, it’s never dark here. Not when the light of the universe surrounds us.” Braedon nodded slightly, smiling up at her. “Thanks, Mom.” He rolled onto his side, and Amara took her leave. Poor child. Maybe the story had been too scary for him. But it was good to look at older stories, to see what humanity had…