I woke hours later to find the fire out and the boy curled up with the beast, asleep. I could hardly get back to sleep myself, too many thoughts buzzed around in my skull.
The chamber was still aglow from the crystal ceiling. I could not tell whether the crystal merely showed light from the surface or whether it glowed of its own accord, another mystery in a place that was full of them.
Wandering the cave, I decided to cross through the the chamber beyond the rubble.
The gaps between the stones were a confusion to me, and I could not get through the same way I thought I’d done before. In fact, I found the way I tried went up slightly, and before I knew it, I was right up beside the ancient rocketship.
The open hatch was right nearby, and I climbed up and pulled myself inside.
The floor was pitched, so that the whole thing sloped forward. The metal of the walls and floor was not rusted, for the elvish race of Selenium had discovered metals that would not succumb to this, although it was warped and dented in many places. Electric lamps burned and I became away of various details of the room.
A carpet had been draped along the floor, and there were upholstered wooden chairs as well. I noted that one chair, one with a lantern placed beside it, had several dirty drinking glasses beside it, and a stack of books.
I went up to it, and as I did, I reached my hand out for support. The object I touched was the stasis chamber.
Yes, I thought, that must be a part of this mystery.
Perhaps the boy had been a part of a crew that crashed long ago. Perhaps only he had survived, then he put himself into the chamber to await a rescue.
Briefly I rifled through the books, but I wound up putting them all back. I poked around the cabin, looking under cushions, in the old compartments, some of which had pinched shut in the crash. Lastly I entered the pilot's chamber, which was at the bottom, the way the rocket was situated.
The crystal viewing port was almost entirely covered in caked on gravel and sand. Were it not for the torch I had brought I should not have been able to see too well in the chamber.
One of the seats was marked, the ancient stain of blood still on it. I sat in the other and looked through the mess on the control board.
There were fragments of machinery, articles of clothing, warped plates, pieces of weapons… at last I found what I’d been looking for: the log.
What I read explained much:
LOG LN 19/13/ZZZ,O,ZII
Could not secure orders to patrol the threatening systems around the homeworld. Council has been convinced that no real threat to us or the Promised World could come from that quarter. Have resolved to lead my crew there just the same. The council have called me a hero and they have called me dangerous, well, we will see what they call me now.
20/13/ZZZ,O,ZII
The mystery of the council’s change of heart has been solved, at least so far as I am concerned. Up until the day of their refusal, I had much support for my plan to visit the neighboring systems, and I learned from Bamba Lo that a communication arrived that soured all sentiment towards my plan.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
This would be a mystery, my the message came at midday on 18/13 and from the same part of the space ways through which this ship passed. I checked and double checked the message log from that day, and discovered that the message had come from this very ship!
I have been sure of every man in this crew and would lay down my life for them, save one.
It is no secret that I have no great trust for the cloying alien who came among us on The Promised World, the one called Earth by the people there. The human race lives in ignorance of our struggle to keep them free of The Satellite Lords, and we give a long careful look at those who become aware of us. I warned the local command of this alien who ingratiated himself to us there. His honeyed words played so well with everyone, his ideas about making a scientific study, his promises not to panic the local populace.
Now I have proof that this human, this traitor, this Heldo Xird has in fact been working against us.
His real name is something like “Henry Sirk” or whatever passes for a name among those primitives. He insisted from the first that if he was to aid Selenium he must take a name that would be easier for us to say. I can easily picture the enemy instructing him in this!
Back at local control on Earth, things went missing from time to time and certain ships developed problems, seemingly at random. I suspected then that it was Xird, now I know it was.
22/13/ZZZ,O,ZII
So far I have managed to keep my designs a secret. Xird himself does not appear to suspect our true course. I orchestrated a fault in the electrical system which will prevent anyone else from using the long range communications.
Before the plan was rejected, I received the results of a logistical study of the systems. It appears that the world of Ardon is the most likely site from which an enemy might stage a secret attack on Selenium. We should arrive within a few hours.
24/13/ZZZ,O,ZII
Mission a total disaster.
My guess must have been too correct, for when we descended to check a sinister looking volcano, Xird showed his true colors and opened fire on the crew. He had wounded me and killed half of them before I managed to blow the weapon out of his hand.
I wish I had killed him! We began to lose control and I had to take the wheel, while I did, the traitor stole the escape pod and flew away to safety.
We were too badly damaged by then to pull out of our spin. We plunged down to the mountain, only just missing a lava flow, and blasted a hole in the black facing of the rock. Somehow this did not destroy us, in fact the mountain contains great hollows. a few of which we punched through, before crashing to a stop.
It may be a mercy of the gods that we were not burned away to nothing, but we are truly trapped here. The flows of molten iron prevent our signals escaping.
Villeroy and Tor Var survived the attack, but they died in the crash. I am alone.
The chance of the ship ever being discovered is almost nothing. If we are found it may only be by the enemy. I have checked the readings on the air outside the ship, and the gasses of the mountain make breathing impossible. Even in one of the survey suits, I would not live long enough to reach the surface. Had Tor Var lived we might have repaired the engine enough to blast our way out, but he is gone and so is his knowledge.
I am going to retire to the stasis chamber, with a setting to wake once a century. May I live to see justice.
LN ??/??/???,?,???
Mercy of the gods, we are loose from the prison. How much time has passed? I know only one thing…
Revenge.
I stood up and closed the log, then I found the board with the ship’s personnel roster and read off the names. It still seemed insane to me that a record could survive for so long, but the civilization that spawned Selenium had used a paper made with tiny fibers of rubber and glass which was almost impervious to breaking down.
I climbed the interior of the ship and reached the rear storage area, looking at what remained of the old survey suits, of which I had learned very little. One space was empty, a few had pinched shut, and one had mostly disintegrated. Of that one there remained only a pile of dust, of fur, and five lenses.