Think Len, think.
“Computer, I believe something is trying to disable life support in here. I can barely breathe.”
Another lie, but I need to do something.
“Officer Morrow, oxygen levels are normalized. Please access your medical system to run a scan on your health status. You could be…” Her voice tapers off and then there’s silence.
“Computer? Hello? Are you there? Computer?”
Something moves across the bow of the ship, projecting a shadow into the lab. I wrench my head around and rush to the port window in the back. I barely catch sight of a dark vessel floating out of my vantage point. It didn’t look like one of our salvation ships. All I saw was the smooth dark outer hull as it drifted out of sight.
I throw my body back against the hull wall just to the left of the port window. I need to think. Who or what are they?
“Computer, are you there?”
Still nothing. What if she's been disabled by whoever’s out there? If they did that, they’re not exactly friendly.
My mind reels with what to do next. Hide. I need to hide. Mask my life signs. Maybe they haven't detected me yet.
Searching the lab, I notice the emergency radiation suit made of Derlex material. It should block any scan…I hope. Nearly knocking over the workstation, I run to the suit hanging in the front corner of the lab and put it on faster than I've ever dressed before. All seals are fastened as I slip on the helmet and latch it securely. This was the only suit like this on the S1. It was meant to be a safeguard for any dangerous research that I needed to do on our mission. The crew could have survived if these suits were standard precaution for every section of the ship, but no one planned on that level of a solar flare. Their basic Rad suits didn’t stand a chance once the ship was breached.
The curved display on my wrist brightens as I activate the suit’s power. A radiation indicator flickers on in the right corner. The heat map scans close to forty yards out from me. It’s only reaching the sealed off sections I’m stuck in. Luckily, the walls of the inner hull keep me safe, but they also limit the suit’s sensors. Contained inside this suit, every deep breath sounds like Darth Vader’s in here with me. Before my death sentence on the ship I would have found that hilarious, but right now it’s only enhancing my anxiety. Time to move.
I activate the hatch panel and the door slides open, retracting into the wall. Stepping into the corridor, I turn to look down both directions. My mind’s full of mush and my nerves are on fire, increasing my heart rate. It doesn’t help that the suit keeps reminding me of that fact. Stereo warnings repeat every thirty seconds as a robotic voice counts it out.
“One sixty-eight over eighty-seven… One eighty-four over ninety-two... One ninety-four over ninety-three…”
Breathe Len, breathe.
I try my best to take in deep breaths and exhale slowly as I make my way to the storage room. The warnings continue. Fiddling with the wrist display, I thankfully find the command to turn them off. The hatch to the supply room is around the next bend.
Moving forward, a green light on the access panel on the entrance to the senior officer’s quarters catches my attention. Why isn't it locked down? I’ve ignored this door and the red restricted access symbol flashing on its panel for so long, but the new vibrant green haze stands out so much that I can’t overlook it. Tentatively, I peer through the small hatch window. Nothing. The once-darkened hall behind the door is now well-lit, but empty. I open my mouth to call out to the computer, but quickly clamp it shut. Who knows who else is listening.
With my advanced Rad suit on, I need to take advantage of this open door. I’m not sure how long it will stay like this, but if I open it and it’s still irradiated, I will contaminate the only livable space left on the S1. I will seal my fate. Living in this suit is not possible.
My eyes shut and I press my helmet to the hatch. I can’t exist like this anymore. Alone and counting down the days till I starve to death. This is the only chance I have to recalculate my odds. Most likely I’ll be lowering them, but I have to try.
On the lower half of the access panel, I press the pulsating green button that says ‘Open’. It whooshes back. I keep my eyes shut as if I’m expecting to be knocked back by some sort of physical radiation wave. Not possible, but invisible, untouchable radiation is just as scary.
I crack my lids open and raise my hand to look at the display. The radiation detector shows green. It’s… safe?
What?
Somehow the poison that’s been lurking outside my section of the ship is gone. Not that I trust the sensor fully. I have no intention of removing this suit. And if it is safe, who could do such a thing? Fully eradicating radiation is beyond our technical ability. Someone decontaminated the ship and this suit might be the only thing keeping me hidden from them.
Hugging the corridor walls, I move past the sleeping quarters. A hard swallow tames my emotions. I know what I’ll find if I open those doors. I need to get to the bridge to see what’s really going on. The rec room is just down this next hall to the right. Once I pass that, the bridge will be up a short flight of stairs.
I run out of wall to slide against. The rec room doesn’t have doors, just a big opening. I close my eyes for a moment, building the courage to look inside. My eyes open and I exhale slowly, inching into the opening.
A slumped body rests in one of the lounge chairs facing the game console in the back. The display is still on, replaying the game’s credit scene. Illuminated by the vivid screen, a blotchy arm dangles from the side of the chair. I creep forward and peer around the back of the recliner.
Trying to cup my hand over my mouth, I slap the front of my helmet, jolting back a bit at the horror. After a moment, I lean back in to get a closer look. It’s hard to make out who it is with all the deteriorating flesh, but the embroidered patch on his jumpsuit that’s not covered in dried vomit fills me in.
It’s Lt. Masters. We didn’t talk much, but he was fearless. I have no doubt he lived out his remaining days however he wanted.
Thankfully, no one else is in here, but the room only reminds me of the horror the rest of the crew went through. Looking at organic compounds in the lab is not the same thing as seeing your fellow crewmember melted away. It wasn’t fun, that’s for sure.
I reach the stairs to the bridge. This room was off limits unless the senior officers requested me. Even then, it was nothing more than for scientific advice. Before my foot even hits the first step up the short stairwell, something muffled comes from beyond the hatch. My body takes over and I step back, retreating behind the wall. Everyone's dead. I saw their final log entries. There’s no way anyone from the crew is still alive.
We’ve been boarded.
Friend or foe? I have no idea. No way I’m going in to say hi. I need to think of something else, figure out why they’re here. Best scenario, they could be here to save me. The worst? They’ll kill me and take the ship. I just don’t know. Engineering is where I need to be. I'll have more access to the ship’s systems there.
Slow but deliberate steps lead me away from the corridor. Heading back toward the officer’s quarters, I realize I’ll need an access key to get where I need to go. For that, I’ll have to go into the captain’s personal quarters.
At the end of the hall, Cabin 1 reads across the hatch. Captain North’s quarters. Walking up, I take a deep breath and press to open the door. A quick clanking rattle sounds before the door slides in. There was no need for North to lock herself in. She was cut off from everyone.
Radiation levels are normal in this room, too. Looks like whoever’s in the bridge cleaned the whole ship.
Guilt floods my mind, eventually finding its way to my chest. I survived. There must be a point to all of this. Living only to be taken by hostel beings now seems meaningless.
North’s stiff body lies curled up on the bed, agony frozen on her face. Most of her hair has fallen out and the blistering welts have overtaken her exposed skin. The operations
key is wrapped around her frail wrist. The curved, small device gives her access to the entire ship. A captain is required to put this in their safe at the end of their shift, but I don’t think she worried too much about it in her final days. I don’t need to hack into her safe, but I do have to pry it from her dead body. Pausing for a moment, I stare at her. North would want me to take it. Still, it feels invasive.
Slowly, I walk up to her bed, breathing deeply. I take her forearm and carefully raise it up. Her irradiated flesh peels back, hanging on, but barely. With my free hand, I unlatch the clasp on the underside of the device. It comes off with ease. I gently rest her arm back down at her side. Grabbing the covers on the bed, I pull them over her.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” I mutter under my breath.
It’s time to move. Exiting North’s quarters, I shake my head to jog my memory, my eyes moving back and forth. It’s been close to a year since the last training exercise had me working in engineering. The path gradually returns to my mind. Back of the ship, lower level, past the med-bay.
I run from corridor to corridor. My heavy breathing drowns out my nerves. Down the aft stairs, I come to a sealed hatch with ‘Engineering’ etched into the metal door. I pull out North’s key from my side pocket and press it up against the digital display to the left of the door. A beep followed by a clank sounds from inside the wall as the door releases and slides open. Inside, lights flicker on, brightening the large room.
Stepping in, I glance over the entire room. I put the key back in my pocket and zip it up. System displays cover the wall on each side with cockpit-like chairs facing each one. Luckily, no bodies are in here. I desperately want to remove this suit. While it’s fairly formfitting, it’s still stuffy and uncomfortable.
I plop down in the center seat to the right. The chair’s spring-loaded suspension drops down a bit before raising me back up. Okay, think. I need to listen in on the bridge without alerting whoever’s up there. There’s a commlink station at every post in the bridge. If I can just open one of those channels…
I navigate to the comm screen on the display and locate the bridge channels. This isn’t going as easily as I’d hoped. If I open any of these, there will be an activation sound at the post that will alert anyone to it.
“Officer Morrow.” The computer’s voice startles me. “Please explain why you are accessing comm channels for the bridge. You are not authorized to use engineering systems.”
“You’re back!” I spin in my chair and look up. “What happened?”
“Sir, you are not authorized to be in this room, or to access those systems. I must lock you out and activate security measures.”
“Wait, wait, I’m acting captain now.” With one arm raised, I reach into my pocket and pull out the operations key, lifting it into the air. “Captain North granted me access to her key.”
A lie, but an important one.
“The captain never entered the authorization into my logs,” she says. “You are operating against ship’s protocols.”
My brow furrows. I need to think of something or she’ll lock me out and probably tip off our guests to me.
Then it comes to me.
“Hold on,” I blurt out. “As the top level science officer on this vessel, I determined Captain North’s health to be critical. Based on protocol F256, a captain’s key can be repossessed until a senior officer can take over as acting captain. I have been unable to locate a senior officer, so I am captain. For now.”
“A ship-wide scan has determined there are no active officers on board,” she says. “Life signs confirm this as well. How can I assist you Captain?”
I can’t believe that worked. I’m the captain without a crew. I wasn’t promoted, I took it, but I still have full access to the ship now. It’s time to take hold of the situation and regain control.
“Computer, lock access to your program. Only I have access.”
“Yes sir,” she replies. “Access to my program has been restricted.”
“Computer, how did you know I was in here? Did you read my life signs?”
“Your suit has a tracking system in place. I am able to monitor your location. It is a safety procedure during emergencies.”
“Does that mean the bridge was informed of my location?” I ask.
“No. This is a passive monitoring protocol that is performed on all active suits.”
“Ok good.”
That way they probably don’t know I’m here still.
“Computer, I need you to open one of the back station channels on the bridge, but disable any sound alerts from the comm.”
“Operations comm open,” she says. “One-way listening only.”
It’s silent. Did I imagine those voices I heard? They could be investigating the ship. I stand and rest my elbows on the back of the chair, deciding I’d better move and find a place to hide. Before I have a chance to take a step, I hear a woman’s voice from the bridge. I straighten up, my body tense.
“If the vessel is abandoned, we should destroy it and move on,” an ethereal voice says. “Your orders, Theena?”
My mouth drops open. They must be human. They speak English, they have to be, but how did they get here? I don’t understand why they’re discussing destroying the S1 either. This isn’t making sense.
“Myra,” a woman with a more commanding voice says, “we didn’t travel to this sector to just destroy a lifeless vessel. All advanced life poses a threat to our kind.”
“What do you recommend?” Myra asks.
“We need to find this species’ origin planet. They are humanoid, and do share the historical language.”
Wait… they’re not human? I don’t understand. How do they speak our language then?
I pace the metal floor of the engineering room. A cool wave floods my body as fear draws the blood from my limbs.
“We are unable to access the computer’s AI,” a third female voice says. “I did find analog star charts, though.”
“That is all we need,” Theena replies. “We will go to their home world and eliminate them before they become a threat to the quadrant. They’ve already begun traveling beyond their solar system. We cannot allow this.”
This is not good. Not good at all.
“Computer?” I frantically call out. “What have your scans found out about these things?”
“My initial scans did not detect their life signs before system protocols shut me down, but I was able to gather data on their space craft.”
“Ok… Ok, that’s something,” I say. “What’s the ship’s tactical capabilities?”
“The vessel’s hull is comprised of several metals, as well as some unknown compounds. There appears to be four cannons as well as two missile bays. Weapon types unknown.”
“Can our plasma defenses take it down?” I plead.
“Their vessel doesn’t appear to have any shielding activated. There is a 74% chance our cannons will critically disable them.”
My mind races with the options. They're hostel, but who are they? The S1 has been vented of all radiation. The ship is livable now, and I can continue North’s mission. I’ll be alone, but I will have a purpose again.
None of this matters if I don’t take care of this threat.
“Myra, inform the Daughters that we will be returning to the Kyoria,” Theena’s voice echoes through the open comm. “We have no use for this crude vessel. Prepare to destroy it once we’ve returned.”
“Perfect,” Myra replies.
I don’t have time to figure out who they—what they are. Their ship needs to be destroyed before they board it.
“Computer?” I call out. “Seal the bridge and ready the plasma cannons.”
“Bridge has been locked down. Plasma cannons ready.”
With my eyes shut, I breathe in deeply and exhale the doubt from my core. “Open fire.”
The ship rattles as the weapons discharge. I grab the chair to steady myself and drop down into it. Touching the display before me, I acti
vate the forward cameras, giving me a front row seat to the action. Their ship rips apart as the energy of the explosion hits the S1. A steady rumble vibrates through the floor under my feet. A cool blue burst of light severs their craft in half before a cascade of new explosions ripple from its hull. There’s nothing left of it.
Now I have to figure out how to deal with these so-called Daughters still on my ship.
“Computer, can we shut off life support to the bridge?”
The harsh words make me cringe.
“I am sorry, Sir. Life support systems cannot be disabled for the bridge. Critical sections of the SalvationOne have emergency protocols in place to prevent catastrophic failures. There are several backup systems in place.”
Well, that just made things a lot harder. I jump to my feet once again and turn to find the weapons locker near the door. Rushing to it, I use North’s key to open the digital lock. The metal hatch pops open. Pulling it fully open, I find three plasma rifles lined up on a rack inside. Placing the key on the ledge, I grab a weapon and check to see if it’s charged. A green light indicator shows a full charge. These thicker gloves make holding the weapon difficult. I nearly drop it, fumbling it in my hands. I think it’s time to get out of this stuffy Rad outfit.
I rest the weapon down on the nearest chair and find the latches on the helmet. Pausing for a moment, I decide I have no choice. The open seal hisses as air rushes out from the glass mask. My heart pounds in my chest. I don’t fully trust the radiation-free indicator, but I have to act now. The suit slides down as I step out of it. I’m exposed now, leaving the suit on the ground as I pick up the rifle, but at least I can freely move again. My mind plays tricks on me. I can swear the air tastes different, but I need to push these thoughts out of my head. The rifle is firm in my grasp as I head to the exit. I clasp the key onto my wrist, adjusting the fit.
The engineering hatch slides back and I take a cautious step out. Something flashes before my eyes, but there’s no time to react. A heavy hit to my chest throws me back, sliding across the engineering floor. The rifle flies from my hands, skittering just out of my reach. Out of the shadows of the open entry, two figures emerge. The first woman is pointing a pistol at me. Her nearly-black flowing hair curls down to her waist. A tight, black body suit hugs her defined curves. She’s fit, and the dark around her eyes gives her an intimidating gaze. Out from behind her, the second woman struts in. Tall with nearly white blonde hair and wearing the same outfit, she’s beautiful, and just as fierce looking. I turn to look at my rifle when the first woman shakes her head and steps closer to me. Sitting up, I show my hands to them and stay put.
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 32
