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  “Perimeter search and evaluate. Basic soldiering one oh one,” he muttered as he got to his feet.

  A separate elevator and stairs led down from one corner of the bridge to a suite of rooms for use by officers. A briefing room with much finer quality furnishings than the one he discovered on deck 4, a room that looked like the Captain’s personal office, and another office. The only access to this suite of rooms was via the bridge so Tearan guessed they were for the sole use of the Captain and his most senior officers. Back on the bridge, he left and went down the main stairs to deck two and studied the map on the wall. This deck contained the Senior Officer’s dining lounge and kitchen, Senior Officer’s observation lounge, Senior Officer’s quarters, computer lab, and science lab. The kitchen and dining rooms were empty, but he found the food preparation systems working perfectly. The observation lounge offered another breathtaking view but little else other than snack and drinks dispensers, which were also functioning properly.

  “Well at least I won’t starve to death.”

  All but one of the Senior Officer’s quarters were empty and Tearan gaped as he entered to find clear signs of the room being inhabited. A pile of discarded clothes lay in a box in one corner, all made for a man of similar size to himself. He held a pair of pants up against himself. “I bet these would fit me perfectly. I know where to come if I need a change,” he mused. The bathroom contained a man’s washing necessities, the uncapped tube of toothpaste having been squeezed in the middle. This fact alone told him whoever occupied this room was neither a soldier nor an officer. It takes discipline and hard work to become a good soldier or officer and a man with a disciplined mind would never squeeze the toothpaste in the middle and then leave the cap off. Such a lack of care shows a certain attitude and Tearan decided that a man with such an attitude was not someone he could look up to. It is not a case of being obsessional, it is the kind of self discipline and attention to detail required of good soldiers and effective officers. A wasteful soldier will run out of something quicker, would have to go without sooner, and when roughing it on some shit hole of a planet for weeks at a time, those small comforts make the experience that bit more tolerable. An officer who showed such lack of care for the little things that might at first seem unimportant would be less likely to think of the little things that might save the ship in a battle situation. No, this room may have been designed to house an officer, but its current occupant was anything but.

  Tearan quickly found he had an aptitude for neither computers or science, as neither of the labs brought forth any recognition or memories. The science lab was large and had sections for the various disciplines. Biophysics, chemistry, astrophysics, anthropology, and many others, all were represented and all abandoned. He brushed his fingers over the consoles, dials, and switches but felt nothing stir within his mind. “So I’m not a scientist either.” As with everywhere he had been so far, the drinks dispenser worked perfectly, as did the lights, heating, food preparation, and water. He knew that he was on the brink of an important realisation but trying to force it forwards made it retreat even further into the empty void inside his mind. Not having any memories was frustrating as well as frightening and he was anxious to start filling that void as soon as possible. At each elevator and stairs, a map of the ship adorned the wall and Tearan studied the one on deck 3 as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Deck three contained the main computer, gravity field generator and control, life support systems generators, main sensor array governor, ballistics and weapons control, security, and a large briefing room. Tearan found the computer array operational, the flickering lights, beeps and updating readouts told him that, but whatever it was operating was a mystery. The gravity field generator was working, which was no surprise as he had been able to walk around without floating into the air. As there were no signs of life, he left and went next door into Life Support and found the whole place alive with beeping, flickering lights, and readouts.

  “So this explains why all the food and drinks dispensers are working, the swishers are still operating and there’s heat. Anything connected with life support is functional, but nothing else is. The ship’s engines are dead, as is navigation and the weapons probably are too. I can however, get food and drink, I can breathe, I can walk around normally, and I’m warm. I can stay alive but I can’t find out where I am or go anywhere else. This is too weird.”

  Sure enough, next door in ballistics and weapons control, all was dead, but Tearan did find flickers of recognition stirring within as he touched the various dials and switches. “This is familiar too, just like in navigation. I know this.” The security centre had him grinning from ear to ear when he discovered several arms lockers that offered him all manner of arms both large and small. “Hello baby,” he grinned as he took down a Cortik 4 laser pistol and caressed its smooth lines. Familiarity flooded into his mind and he almost cried with relief as he registered the knowledge that he had handled this weapon before. After pocketing half a dozen spare cells, he found a door that led to a firing range and spent a little time putting it through its paces before restocking with cells and continuing his search. The security centre had its own small kitchen and dining area, vidicom movie screen, gaming table and several cots for on duty personnel to catch some rack time. A small area at one end was kitted out as a gymnasium and martial arts practice area and more flutters registered in Tearan’s mind as he did a tour of the rooms. The place felt comfortable and catered for all his needs, so he decided to use this as his base until further notice. One cabinet yielded a whole lot of key cards for the various lockable rooms on board, and with the aid of a well thumbed manual he found in a drawer, he was able to reconfigure the lock on the main door. This generous space afforded him food and drink, arms, exercise, a place to sleep and even some entertainment. Most importantly, it gave him a feeling of safety, somewhere to call home and defend.

  After locking the door behind him, Tearan reached up with the marker pen he had pocketed from the deck four engineering briefing room.

  ‘Inter-Galactic Elite Command, Unit 389C4 Headquarters. T Lindo Commanding Officer.’

  Satisfied, he headed for the stairs. Having already investigated deck four, he headed down to deck five. The map showed this deck to comprise of staff quarters, kitchen, dining area, and recreation rooms and like everywhere else, they were almost devoid of any signs of life. Two of the staff quarters showed similar signs of occupation as in the Senior Officer’s quarters on deck two. In one room, he found a large selection of knives and blades hidden under the bed, which told him he was not the only one aboard interested in defending himself.

  “Wow. Let’s hope he’s just a collector and not a user,” he muttered to himself as he went to explore the kitchen and dining room. As before, all things related to the storage, preparation and cooking of food seemed to be in perfect working order, as was the water treatment system and waste disposal. The vidicom movie system was not working, but the gaming tables were. “So I can’t watch a movie but I can play myself at Tapshots.” After making plans to return and raid some of the staff quarters for bed linens and washing necessities, he made his way back to the stairs.

  Deck six contained the medical bay, isolation ward, medical research lab, morgue, funeral room, and multi denominational temple. A blip of emotion coursed through his body as he entered the morgue and stayed with him as he examined the funeral room and temple. He was aware of the feeling inside him, a heavy weight on his heart that pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he was unable to explain it. Finding himself within the temple, he wondered if anyone would mourn him if he died. Was there a family somewhere worrying for him, a lover missing his presence, children perhaps? He had no idea but there was something about this area of the ship that moved him.

  Deck seven comprised a shuttle bay and massive storage hangar. Tearan approached the shuttle bay and stopped, the flashing red sign above the door explaining why it would not be a good idea to enter.

 
‘Danger – bay doors open – enter via airlock only.’

  Peering through the round glass window, the open bay doors at the far end of the room revealed the infinite void of space beyond. Two shuttlecraft sat on pads within and several hover loaders stood idle along one wall. Around a corner, another door announced itself as shuttle bay preparation and airlock, so he entered. Racks of space suits and breather units hung along one long wall, magnetic soled boots standing sentinel beneath each one and Tearan felt a vague sense of familiarity as he gazed at each in turn.

  “I’ve worn a suit before,” he said to himself as he approached the first and reached out a hand to touch the fabric. “I know how to do this.” Glancing over the breather unit, he felt recognition within and knew that he could enter the shuttle bay safely. Deciding to return at the earliest opportunity and check out the shuttle bay itself, he left the room and went in search of the storage hangar. The space was huge, and contained cartons and crates of everything imaginable. There were food supplies to last years if he was careful with it, as well as clothing, cleaning supplies, and medical supplies. Another section of shelving held all manner of stuff that he guessed belonged to the engineering section, digital components, and all manner of things he was unable to identify. Several hover carts stood around the edges of the room and he decided his first task must be to stock his new home base with food and essentials.

  Deck eight contained a single room that announced itself as a hazardous storage bay. A notice pinned to the door told him that under no circumstances was he to touch anything without first donning appropriate safety clothing; that if he had not been trained and certificated in handling hazardous materials to grade three or higher, he was not to enter without the supervision of someone who had.

  “Well fuck you,” he retorted as he pushed open the door and entered. A large space spread out before him, containing twenty-seven drums strapped to racks that were themselves bolted to the floor. Each one sported a digital display that beeped quietly, a readout giving the temperature and status of the contents. Apart from a small room containing cartons of safety clothing and a bin for clothing to be cleaned, there was nothing of interest. Having searched the whole ship and found signs of life that told him there must be four others aboard, but no actual people to account for those signs, Tearan was more than a little confused. He knew he had not searched thoroughly; he knew it would be easy for someone to avoid him by backtracking, but why would they do so? Why were they avoiding being found? Did that mean they were hostile or afraid that he might be? He had no way of knowing but he was tired and hungry, so he made his way back to security and his new safe base for a meal and some down time. His priority now was to secure his own position and safety first before thinking about the larger situation. He would make more of an effort to find the others later, he decided.

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  2

  The pain in his head drove him to wakefulness from an empty and dreamless void. Opening his eyes slowly so as not to exacerbate the pain that throbbed in his temples, Mykus found himself on a bed within what appeared to be a cheap hotel room. The frown that furrowed his brow deepened as he realised he had no knowledge of where he was nor how he got there. With one swift movement, he swung his legs to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to focus his mind. There were no memories of how he might have arrived at this room, so he thought back to the day before and was horrified to find no memories of anything at all.

  “I can’t remember anything? What the fuck is going on?” he said as he grasped his head in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m Mykus Romin. I’m twenty-eight and I’m from Arlenika Prime. I’m a mechanical engineer and I, I umm, that is I.” He let out a shriek when he found nothing more within his mind, a shriek more of fear than anger. Fear swept into his empty mind, grasped his senses and sent him panicking into a crouch on the floor, his back to the bed. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he shivered and cried under the weight of vulnerability. After several minutes allowing panic to direct his inaction, Mykus wiped his nose on his sleeve, dried his eyes and stood. No one had come to accost him so far, so he risked indulging his curiosity and went to investigate his immediate surroundings.

  The room was basic but comfortable and offered him a bed, closet, nightstand, desk, and chair. Through a partition wall, he found a toilet, basin, and shower. His fingers caressed the washcloth that hung over the side of the basin, he lifted the tube of toothpaste and examined the label but nothing stirred within his mind. Although the items he found within the bathroom were more than adequate for his needs, he felt no familiarity with any of them. He did not know whether those particular brands of soap and toothpaste were his favourites or not. They were there, as was he, so he assumed they were for his use. The face that gazed back at him made him jump. For a fraction of a second, the face was that of a stranger, but then a finger of recognition stirred and he knew it was his own. The sense of it belonging to him was tenuous but he did not doubt its truth. As he stared at himself, he felt he were meeting a friend he had not seen in many years and examined the reflection in detail so as to fix the image within his mind once again.

  Slipping the key card he found hanging from the door handle into his pocket, he opened the door and peered out. The number eighty-eight was painted on the door, and he slipped it into his memory alongside the image of his own face as he looked both ways down the corridor he found outside. His boots tapped on the metallic floor as he walked to his left, past more numbered doors which he chose to assume led to similar rooms to the one in which he had woken up. He knew immediately that he was not within a building built on solid ground. There was something about his surroundings that told him he was on board a ship of some kind, but he did not know what gave him that conviction. Maybe it was the lack of windows, or perhaps it was the metallic floor and walls, he was not sure but he knew without a doubt that he would not find himself opening a door and stepping out into a sunny afternoon. The large kitchen and dining area he found were deserted, despite his calling out and he thought it strange that a space ship large enough to warrant such a large dining room would have no staff busy in the kitchen preparing for the next meal.

  “Perhaps it’s the middle of the night,” he muttered as he wandered along the corridor and found a recreation room that was also empty of life. When he eventually found himself back outside door number eighty-eight, he retraced his steps to the elevator and stairs he had passed. It was here he learned that he was indeed aboard a space ship as the map on the wall confirmed. Studying the map closely, he learned he was on deck five, and that everything to do with engineering was one deck above. “There’s always someone on duty in engineering,” he mused as he punched the button for the elevator. More than a minute passed by, during which Mykus stabbed at the elevator call button several times, before he gave up and took the stairs two at a time.

  ‘Main engineering – authorised personnel only,’ the notice on the door announced. Mykus hesitated for no more than a second before opening the door and peering through. Expecting to be refused entry, he was dismayed to find no one in the immediate vicinity, so he entered and called out.

  “Hello? Can someone help me? Hello?” His call echoed around the large space but no reply was forthcoming. After calling out again, he made his way into the engineering section and soon found the entire place deserted. Not only was he alone in the section, but nothing seemed to be working. He recognised all of the consoles and workstations but why was nothing operational? When he reached the mezzanine overlooking the engine bay and peered down at the huge bullet shaped object, he had no problem identifying it but was dismayed by its condition. The green sludge within the clear casing told him the unit had been switched off at least three months ago, for he knew that was how long it took for this particular type of engine system to revert to this state of non-operation. The two liquid gases that power the engine are normally kept in a state of constant motion much like a food processor mixing ingredi
ents. The two liquid gases are not able to mix while in this state of motion, and it is this dynamic flow that produces the energy to drive the ship. When such an engine is switched off, it takes three months for both liquid gases to cool and then combine into a green sludge.

  Three hours later, he sat down and ran a hand through his hair. His investigation had revealed nothing that might explain why the engine was non-operational. There was no obvious damage to any of the systems that he found and everything seemed to be in perfect working order. Once he had replaced the last of the panels, he realised he had been alone in Main Engineering for hours and had accessed all systems without being accosted by security. This should not have happened. A stranger would never be allowed to wander freely in the engineering section of a space ship and fiddle around as he had done.

  “I have to go and find someone,” he said aloud and left the room. By the time he found himself back outside Main Engineering, he had found the engineering storeroom, two offices, a workshop, and a meeting room, none of which had yielded any personnel or explanation for his situation. In one corner of the briefing room was a drinks dispenser with two used cups nearby. Their contents was cold but Mykus knew it meant he was not alone. Written on the wall above was something that made his heart leap in his breast.