“But why not wait for us to dock before the drill?”
“Dunno,” David said. “Perhaps the point of the exercise is to cater for situations where one of the teams isn’t on board yet. That could be why the Photon-I never took off. The crew attended the Orion part of the drill and in two weeks when they return, they’ll go through what we just did while we stay on board for that part of the training.”
“Even at the risk of a crash and the destruction of the entire station?”
“It’s not the first time we had to dock manually. Forcing us to learn how to perfect the maneuver could prevent a possible crash in future.”
“I hope you’re right,” Steven said.
David became distinctly aware of his heavy breathing in his own ears. The usual ambient sounds that were always there—but what he never consciously heard—were now totally gone: the gentle droning sound of the plasma propulsion engines, the soft humming of the aircon, and the normal buzzing of people talking or going about their business. Now there was nothing, and that only added to the hollow gnawing in his gut.
“Geez, it’s cold in here,” Jim said and blew out a small plume of vapor to prove his point.
“It’s the air con,” David said and pointed at the roof above them. “We’ll need to get it up and running as quickly as possible.”
Jim nodded. “I’ll handle it once we find our people.”
“Thanks,” David said. He liked the lad and was glad that he decided to join him and not Jason. They would sooner or later require his electronic skills, so having him at their side was an added benefit.
The passage made a sharp left, and one-by-one, the crew of Photon-II slipped around the corner into what appeared to be another endless corridor. Red, Blue and Green lines painted on the floors and walls marked which way to go. Red led off to the Infirmary, Green to the living quarters, and blue to the work bays, all based within—and around the food court. In the red alarm lights, all the lines appeared to be different shades of black, but David’s shoulder light allowed him to differentiate between the three colors. He knew the layout of the ship by heart and didn’t need to see the lines to know where he was going. Still, there was an odd sense of comfort in double checking his memory.
“Should we split up?” Steven asked when they arrived at an intersection of passages. The passage to the front stretched out long and dark for as far as the eye could see. To the left, the passage made a sharp left several feet down, and to the right, the passage ended in a sliding door.
David knew that the passage with the door led to the living quarters. If they went left, they would eventually end up at the infirmary. “No,” he said. “We stick together, until we get to the food court at least.”
“Roger that,” Steven said and followed David further down the corridor.
A bit down the hallway, something hard crunched under David’s boot. He instinctively shot a fist up and everyone behind him halted dead in their tracks.
“What is it?” Steven asked as he knelt down beside David.
“Glasses,” David said and held up the pair of eyeglasses to the light that was cast from Steven’s shoulder.
“Any idea whose it could be?”
There were over a thousand people on board the Orion, and around a third of them wore specs. “Beats me,” David said and flipped them aside. He stood up and motioned for the rest to keep following him.
* * *
On an average day, the food court would be a hive of activity as those on board the Orion Space Station went about their everyday business of work and social responsibilities. Now, like the space station itself, it was eerily deserted and devoid of any sign of life. David scanned the beam of his shoulder light along the various shops and stalls surrounding the enormous enclosure.
“Okay,” Steven said, “Seems like no one’s home.”
David didn’t say anything. He washed the light over the tables and chairs strewn about in the inner court yard, a tiny tingle trickled down his back to the base of his spine.
“Something went down here,” Steven said. “Looks like whoever was here left in one heck of a rush.”
“They wouldn’t just overturn tables and chairs during a normal evacuation exercise,” Duanne said. “Something bad happened here.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions here just yet, guys,” David said. “Let’s get all the facts first before we unnerve one another.”
“Hang on a minute,” Jim said. “I know of a control panel that might be able to shed some light on this for us.” With that, he disappeared into the shadows.
For the first time, David really worried about the wellbeing of Beverly and Amy. He consoled himself in the knowledge that if something really did go wrong, that they would most likely be safe and sound in an escape pod on the way back to Earth. They would probably confirm this once they arrived at the Infirmary where everyone would have boarded the pods.
There was a slam sound and a few seconds later, fluorescent lights flickered on and off and then finally illuminated the entire food court sector.
“How did you do that?” David asked and clicked off his shoulder light.
Jim raked his fingers through his curly hair. “I used to date a girl that worked in one of the food shops,” he said. “We came here for a little romance one evening after her shift ended and thought we’d dim some of the lights to make the mood a bit more romantic.” His lips broke into a smile and he waved his hand around. “We accidentally managed to trip all the lights. The peace keepers and Captain Hendricks were on us before we could sneak away and, needless to say, the rest of the evening was not as romantic as we had hoped it would be.”
David managed a chuckle. “Certainly came in handy now,” he said and pointed down a hallway. “Why are those still dark?”
“The control panel only works in here,” Jim said. “As far as I know, there are other panels scattered all over ship that control the lights for different sections, but I have no idea where they’re hidden.”
Steven picked up one of the chairs and sat down on it. “This wasn’t an evacuation exercise at all, was it?”
David shook his head. “Don’t think so, no,” he said. “I just hope that the women and children are safe.” Until proven otherwise by hard facts, David resolved that he would cling to whatever fragment of hope he could, no matter how unlikely.
“So what do we do now? Infirmary?”
David nodded and pointed down one of the dark passageways. “It’s where all the escape pods are. If there really was an emergency of sorts, that’s where everyone would have headed.”
“Agreed,” Steven said. “Let’s go.”
David held up his hand and walked over to one of the walls. There was a metal box attached to it and David smashed through the glass cover with a chair. He stuck his hand inside the box and from it he produced a razor sharp axe. “If something bad really did go down here,” he said, “I’m sure as hell not gonna leave anything up to chance.”
“Good idea,” Steven said and everyone disappeared into the various shops. A few minutes later, they joined up with David again, each armed with sharp steak knives and meat cleavers.
David was about to give the instruction to move out when he froze; his eyes fixated at a distant spot at the end of one corridor.
“What’s wrong?” Steven asked.
For what seemed like a long time David said nothing. He could have sworn that he saw a shadow move at the end of the passage. He kept staring to see if he would see it again, but finally he was convinced that there was nothing there and figured that whatever he saw was merely a figment of his over-tired and stressed out imagination. Around the corner was a red light that kept flashing and David realized that what he saw might only have been an illusion, a trick caused by the rotating light. “Nothing,” he said and clicked on his shoulder light. “Let’s go.”
“Alright guys,” Steven called out to the others. “We’re heading out to the Infirmary. Stay close together and wa
tch each other’s backs.”
The others clicked on their shoulder lights and tightened the grip on their weapons. Once satisfied that they were sufficiently armed, they all entered the darkened passage.
Billy Kramer
Billy woke with a gasp.
Although he was surrounded in utter darkness, he could sense that he was in a confined space. How long had he been in there? Minutes? Hours? He honestly couldn’t tell. It took a few seconds before he remembered that he was in a maintenance closet. The machine gun that he clutched in his 17-year-old hands confirmed the memory: He was trail blazing his way through twenty levels of Fire at Will, a console game—heavy metal blasting through his headphones—when a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. Billy could still remember the icy pang that shot through his body when he spun around and found himself staring down the barrel of a real gun.
It was Edmund, one of the four peace keeping guards on board the space station, and a good friend of Billy. During free time, they played a lot of co-op games together and Billy’s parents didn’t seem to mind their friendship despite the fact that Edmund was about twice his age.
“Thank God you’re safe,” Edmund said softly and lowered his weapon.
“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Billy asked louder than he intended because of the lead singer still screaming through his headphones.
Edmund held an index finger to his lips as he yanked off the headphones and switched off the television.
It was only then that Billy heard the muffled screams coming from the hallway outside. “What’s happening?”
“Hush!” Edmund said and knelt down so that he could address his young friend eye-to-eye. “If they hear us, we’re dead, understand?”
Billy nodded despite the fact that he indeed did not understand. “They?”
Edmund pinched his eyes closed as if trying to lock out images so bad that he was afraid that Billy might catch a glimpse of it in the reflection of his eyes.
“Who are they, Eddie?”
“Hush!” Edmund insisted, his voice barely above a coarse whisper.
Despite the seemingly rude snap in Edmund’s voice, Billy could hear that the word was laced with urgency and fear. “What’s going on out there?” he whispered.
“I…I’m not sure, but we need to get out of here right now.”
Billy scanned his eyes around the room. “Where’s mom?” he asked. “Where are my parents?”
“I don’t know,” Edmund said and shoved a machine gun into Billy’s hands, “but we’ll try to get to them, okay?”
“Okay,” Billy said as he rubbed his fingers over the metal of the gun. He bobbed it up and down a few times to gauge its weight. It sure felt heavier than it looked like in the movies and the games that he played. In those games he would run around for hours while carrying a load of various weapons and an endless amount of ammo. He would never tire as he cut down enemy after enemy, and for a split second, a smile slit across his face. The thought of actually living out one of the games was enticing and he wondered if he alone—with his hours of practical gaming experience—would be able to save everyone on board the space station against whatever enemy was out there.
Edmund stood upright and held his ear near the door. The screams outside had subsided, moved elsewhere on the ship. “We have to go,” he said and tugged at Billy’s arm. “Now!”
* * *
Billy slowly opened the closet door and peered out. The hallway outside was completely deserted. There was no sign of Edmund or anyone else. He looked up and down the passageway and once he was sure that there was no one in either direction, stepped out from the confines of the small room.
An eerie silence lingered in the darkened passageways of the ship, a kind of unnerving quietness that unsettled the boy. Billy briefly considered getting back into the safety of the closet, but decided against it. He clutched the gun tightly with his sweaty hands and took a deep breath.
Just before Edmund had shoved Billy into the closet, he flipped on the gun’s safety clip and then gave him a crash course on taking the safety off again. Once again the endless hours of playing games came in handy and Billy grasped the instructions easier as what he would have had without it.
Which way? he wondered as he pressed the button that closed the closet door with a soft whoosh sound. In one sense, he was nervous about what lay ahead, but at the same time pure adrenaline flushed through his veins and he was excited about blasting the first bad guy he came across full of holes. The only problem was that he didn’t really know who or what he was looking for. The ‘thing’ that jumped Edmund just as the closet door whooshed closed appeared human in form, so if it were aliens that attacked and boarded the space station, they very much appeared human-like. Billy didn’t particularly believe in aliens as such, but he had killed enough of them in his games to know how to handle them in the event that his beliefs—or lack of rather—turned out to be wrong.
Thunk!
Billy spun around and held the weapon at ready. He almost fired, but managed to keep himself from doing so. Don’t wanna run out of ammo on Stage 1 already, he thought and a grin spread across his face.
Something down the passage had made that noise, so Billy figured that he would start ‘Stage 1’ in that direction. If it was a bad guy, he would mow him down and find out what he was up against. If it was a good guy, like Edmund, they would fight together in winning back their space base.
‘Okay, let’s do this,’ Billy whispered and unclipped the safety as he slowly started down the darkened passageway.
Jason Clark
Jason Clark stepped into the empty staircase with one objective in mind: to reach the control room and find some weapons. The heart of Orion was situated on the third, upper level, right in the center of a large hall area. Seven months ago he was allowed in the room during his induction and it left no impression on him. It was more practical than scenic; a perfect square with large, thick windows, wall-to-wall on three ends.
The third wall was solid steel and held the armory, only accessible from the inside. The induction was brief, but in that few minutes, while listening to the captain’s monotonous welcome, he absorbed every detail like a super computer through his photogenic memory. Small for such a big operation, it was manned only by the captain, four general officers and two lightly armed peace keepers to keep the armory safe. Opening the armory was through a simple access card—low tech stuff—however, only the captain and guards possessed the cards and clearance, so their success in finding guns would depend on one of them being inside the control room.
The cold staircase greeted them with total darkness and was so large that it completely smothered any attempt of their shoulder lights to guide the way.
They were barely able to see their boots and the bullet holes and blood by the elevator made Jason second guess the decision. Not that they had a choice. There was no other way to the control room.
When the staircase door shut behind them, Santa hummed the theme tune to the movie, Jaws, increasing in volume and tempo with each step they took.
“Stop it dude,” Charlie said with real fear evident in his voice. “You did see the blood, right? You know, the bullet holes and shit?”
Santa shuffled his body past his friend and spoke in a low unnatural voice “Chill out dude, haven’t you noticed we are in the middle of freaking space, on an abandoned freaking space station, in a freaking dark staircase.” He pointed his index finger at Charlie’s face. “And you know why?” He didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetoric question. “I will tell you why! Because the only freaking damn elevator is shot to smithereens. So I’m asking you…bro…with tears in my pretty blue eyes, if this does not qualify for some dramatic effect, well then, what will?”
“Well, now that you put it like that,” Charlie said.
“I do say it like that.”
“Only one thing dude...”
“What Charlie? What can possibly be wrong with my explanation?”
“Your ey
es are as blue as mine, and you know I am black, right?”
Jason walked over to the first flight of stairs. “Stop your yapping,” he said. He felt conflicted about continuing up the stairs. He was not a man of faith or prayer, so instead mouthed a short but audible curse only to be surprised when a proverbial bright light showed them the way forward. It penetrated far and wide up the stairs, and everything was illuminated towards the third floor door.
“Damn, Bruce,” Charlie said with sudden confidence and pointed towards the white camera light.
“Like I said before, my name is Noah.”
“And like I said, Bruce, so nice of you to be useful for a change.”
Against his nature, Jason was grateful for the cameraman’s initiative and followed the light towards the upper level. Their ascent was uneventful, thankfully quiet, and soon they reached the door leading into the third floor deck.
More cold air entered and clung to their faces when he pulled down the handle and entered the floor, but there was one small mercy and being stuck in constant darkness, it was welcomed by all. The floor was lit up like a suburb in Christmas time with hundreds of tiny emergency lights stretching around the enormity of the room. The source pumped right out of the heart. The control room was on full power and stood enlightened in the middle of the large hall like a shrine fed by an emergency generator dedicated solely to it.
“Turn off all your lights,” Jason said and waited a moment for the team to comply. “We are going to need it again.” He looked at Noah. “That also goes for the camera.”
He turned and scanned the vast openness of the hall leading towards the control room. During the induction, he felt it to be a wasted area, unused space in an already crammed environment. He later learned that it was originally designed for an assembly of sorts, but in his time on Orion, no such event was ordered by the Captain. Normally this area was a hustle of feet, worker ants scurrying information towards the queen, a stark contrast from the cold emptiness they now faced.
To their left, the hall bent gradually to the right. It stretched for a bit and then ended at a large science facility. The other way led past the control room and bent away into the biggest storage facility in space.