It was time for dinner.

Of course, on mission days before this, all that meant was it was time to pick up our meals and head back to our sectors. Perhaps we might pass another crewmate in the corridors, but mainly it was just an unwritten agreement that we wouldn’t ever do what Spacca recommended- eat dinner all together to further ‘bond’. So, it was quite rare that there were more than one of us in the dining room at one time, and if there were, it would only be in the period between getting someone’s meal deposited and then leaving. This would be perfect and in fact ideal for avoiding the inevitable confrontations that were clearly on the horizon.

But sadly I am also a great fan of Murphy’s Law. To take a bastardisation; Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.

I had a feeling that this was not going to be a typical meal- and by abnormal, I mean even for this situation.

Dan now had a fear of Allison- a deeply rooted fear, not a surface-deep nervousness. And I had a feeling that would be a great inhibitor on any rational thoughts he might have had on resolving this situation peacefully.

Although Allison was trying to ‘play it cool’ in the sense that she was trying to show that the whole situation hadn’t gotten her on edge, her violent actions over the past few days provided reasoning to the contrary. Both Dan and I had been recipients of her anger, leading me to suspect that she too was being pushed to the limits of her mental and emotional capacity.

Saskia was hard to read, and if she was attempting to ‘play it cool’ like I suspected Allison was, she was doing a much better job. But Dan’s death had definitely had some impact on her – I remembered leaving her in the dining room alone after telling everyone of his death.

In addition, we had to throw in the fact that Dan now had a sort of ‘evidence’ that would place a lot of suspicion onto Allison. And due to his fear of her, I doubted he could be persuaded to take a step back and look at the facts objectively.

Even if the others managed to step back and look at the reality of the situation- that those blood flecks didn’t match the pattern of blood stains around Mason’s corpse- It would open the door for people to throw accusations around, likely beginning with a defensive accusation from Allison.

And that chaos was likely what our killer wanted to happen- for us to lose any sense of unity that we might have, allowing them to pick us off one by one if that was her plan.

It was clear that each of the crew members was hiding something, big or small. And it was just as clear that we weren’t going to have a little heart to heart session and solve all our differences, sharing all our secrets in the process. This wasn’t exactly a situation where I could say “it’s alright, this is a safe zone where no one will judge you!”

I wasn’t like a movie protagonist, who could give a rousing speech and unite the whole crew all the while picking up on the small mistakes that the bad guy did. I simply didn’t have the social skills, and as for the mistakes, I was starting to get suspicious of exactly how ‘good’ they were at accomplishing whatever motive they had. The killer had managed to work amongst our group for a whole year with their motives undetected, they had managed to kill someone aboard a ship with every inch of space covered in security cameras, and the Academy back home didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

And we still had absolutely no idea who was doing this even thot her were only 4 of us left. They were that good. Too good.

They had to be getting some help on the outside or at least have planned this outcome meticulously, weeks in advance.

And I didn’t like that. That meant we weren’t just up against a killer, we were up against a killer with a plan- likely someone professional.

* * *

I had arrived in front of the room.

There was no more stalling. I opened the door to the dining room door and went straight to my chair.

A little about the food dispensing system. We merely grabbed a plate and placed it in front of the dispenser- a rectangular opening in a raised pillar, resembling a bollard, in the middle of the table. Upon the raised pillar was a fingerprint scanner which would verify two things; your identity, and whether you had a meal that was available upon your request. This stopped the crew members from overdrawing their rations in normal mission allocated time. In critical situations in which the ship was damaged, or the flight plan was changed, there were surplus rations held as per regulatory standards, and would be dispensed in accordance with needs.

The food itself had barely improved from days of old space age exploration- rehydrated freeze-dried food. The variation in meals and dishes had increased of course, with more extravagant meals having been created since, but the principal was the same. Add water, or hot water if you were feeling fancy, and you had a ready-made meal in front of you that required no refrigeration and lasted a very, very long time. But the machine did that all for you these days, simply spitting out a packaged box that would open to contain an already hydrated meal.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

We had a seven mission day rotation on meals, and they were fairly stock standard, pasta one night, a type of meat roast, a curry, and so on. These meals also contained additional nutrients that Spacca had deemed necessary or beneficial for their astronauts to imbibe during the duration of the mission.

So, I knew something solid, brown and shitty was going to hit the fan when Dan wasn’t sitting down and eating his meal, or in the process of ‘ordering’ it. But there he was, sitting, back straight as always, in his chair, with nothing in front of him. Either he had already finished with his meal, or hadn’t even ordered, but either way, he was waiting for someone, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew who.

I would’ve dearly loved to just have just grabbed my meal and walked back to my sector to eat it, however, I knew that it would be quite a poor move strategically not to find out what was about to go down.

Dan looked at me, acknowledging my presence with a small nervous head nod before returning to look at one of the entrances to the dining hall. Tucked under his arm, I could now see, he held a small case, obviously the laptop with the recording feed primed to play.

As if on cue, the door opened again, with Saskia and Allison walking in together. Together. That was real bad. Had they formed a sort of alliance?

That immediately put both me and Dan at a disadvantage. We weren’t in any sort of partnership and hadn’t arranged anything before this impromptu meet up. I didn’t want to partner up with Dan, because I still felt that he was hiding something- and it was likely that Dan felt the same way about me as well.

If the girls had really formed a sort of team or alliance, that automatically gave them a humungous advantage regarding both safety and placing blame. If they trusted each other enough, then they really could just hide out in their sector, one taking a watch while the other slept. They also could rely on the fact that one person would back them up- meaning if one of them was, I don’t know, accused of murder- then the retaliation accusations that would inevitably follow would have twice the push behind them. And unless I stood up for Dan, which would effectively cement my position of a theoretical ally on his ‘side’- something I did not want to do- Dan would be outnumbered.

The two girls stopped their conversation as they entered the room, and I could tell by the way that Saskia looked between myself and Dan that at least she thought we were now paired together.

“So, what has brought you two to wait for us before grabbing your meals? It’s awfully nice and very well mannered of you- but it’s quite the change in schedule as compared to the last 11 months or so! Care to explain?” Saskia queried.

I looked over at Dan, to see if he had the confidence to say what he had obviously planned out.

Dan broke eye contact under Saskia’s intense stair down, looking down at the table instead. Just when I thought that I was going to have to say something to avoid the awkward silence, Dan spoke up. Although 'spoke up' might have been a bit of an exaggeration- it was more of a mumble.

“Murderer” he mumbled.

“What was that? Try speaking a little louder if you want us to understand what you are saying.” Saskia retorted.

“I said; murderer,” Dan spoke up, clearer, and a little louder than before. He looked up, straight into Saskia’s gaze.

Saskia’s face hardened immediately. There was no joking around now that someone had been accused.

“That’s a  heavy claim, Daniel. This isn’t at the level of petty thievery or violence- you’re talking about accusing them of an unforgivable offence.” Steely-eyed, she spoke those words directly to Dan, as if there was no one else in the room.

I looked over to see what Allison’s reaction to the accusation was. At a cursory glance, her pursed lips and impassive face seemed to convey nonchalance. However, it was her stiff expression that gave it away- she was rattled. By what, I wasn’t sure yet. But it was clear that she wouldn’t be able to keep up the faked attitude of indifference to the situation any longer.

“So, you better be extremely sure of yourself. Because these accusations aren’t something to be bandied around. Otherwise, I will take it upon myself to personally investigate into why you felt the need to reduce the number of our crewmembers with fake accusations.” She finished, her tone as cold as when she started.

The two women were still standing, not having been offered the time to sit down. Dan and I were still seated, not having moved since the women had come in. But now Dan stood up, showing a level of confidence that I had not expected from him. Some of it, I could see from the tenseness in his shoulders was mere false bravado, but regardless, to be able to stand up to the people (or person) who had reduced you to a nervous wreck only hours beforehand was no mean feat.

Dan put the laptop that was held in his hands on the desk and reached into his pocket- all while keeping his undivided attention on Saskia and Allison.

Now it was Saskia’s turn to be confused, as Dan brought the piece of cloth out of his pocket and motioned for Saskia to take it. As she took it, Dan turned back to his computer and started to turn it on.

Saskia looked down at the fabric and, not finding anything interesting, turned back to Dan to give a scathing remark. However, I managed to get her attention, as I mimed for her to turn the ripped fabric over.

As she did so, her eyes widened as she zeroed in on what Dan had wanted for her to see. And as she looked up to ask what this meant or where this had come from, Dan looked up at her and directed her to his laptop.

Allison had now leaned in as well, to see exactly what Dan had given Saskia. Saskia relinquished the cloth without a word, and without looking away from Dan’s screen.

I stood up at this point, not to try and see what was on the screen, like Allison and Saskia, but just in case things started escalating.

Dan hit the space bar to pause the video and then paused and began zooming in, to show Allison’s hand.

Dan then looked over at Saskia, waiting expectantly to hear her thoughts on the matter. But she didn’t respond- she still had that shell-shocked expression on her face.

Why was she so shocked? Did Allison not tell her everything that she was hiding? Did she-

-THUD-

I was interrupted by Allison slamming her fist on the table, as the piece of cloth dropped to the ground.

“I DIDN’T DO IT!” She practically yelled.

I took a step back involuntarily, but I was standing the furthest back out of everyone else in that room. Both Dan and Saskia got the full brunt of that yell- however Dan’s reaction was much more exaggerated, wide-eyed, his arms flailing in front of him, as he stumbled backwards.

“See??!!” Dan exclaimed when he had gotten steady, “is this not proof?!!”

Allison’s head swung round to Saskia, searching to see if she still had any trust left. But even I could see the visible flinch the Saskia gave as Allison’s attention focused entirely on her.

“I’M NOT THE KILLER- YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG BLOODY PERSON!!” She yelled again.

Then she bolted for the door, kicking it open before she sprinted down the corridor, away before anyone even had a chance at laying their hands on her.

Shit.