MSV Endurance left its orbit around Triton with the transport craft, and both space vessels set off along the trajectory that would have surprised the first generation of astronauts. The signal to prepare for acceleration mode caught James in the pilots’ sleeping quarters, and he hurried to one of the safety chairs near the aft bulkhead. A standard acceleration mode does not require a significant power drain. All spacecraft systems continued to work in standard mode except the artificial gravity system, which was temporarily switched off. It was necessary not only to save power but also to reduce overloading for the crew.

Once again, just as when the spacecraft had left the Earth orbit, James felt an involuntary sensation of fear as everything suddenly blurred before his eyes; it seemed as if the air around him thickened and became more like a liquid. This state did not last long. These unpleasant sensations soon disappeared, and his eyes returned to normal. A few minutes later, another beep, duplicated by the information displayed on the intercom monitor, announced that the crew could leave their safety chairs. The artificial gravity system began to work again, and life aboard the Endurance returned to normal.

Days dragged on, one similar to the other. Training flights were suspended, but the pilots had no more leisure time than before. James and his roommates took turns at night duty again, did all other work assigned to the Squadron’s junior staff and attended tactical training courses, which many believed had been invented by the Squadron Commander to keep the personnel busy …

… James was in a great mood. He had just finished his shift in the living compartment going to the spacecraft crew’s mess because the Squadron’s junior staff mess had been closed after breakfast. He already knew how to leave the Squadron location unnoticed by Flight Sergeant Rowling and the senior officers. Such a manoeuvre turned out to be very simple. All he had to do was walk to the companionway with a concentrated look on his face, let everyone around to know that he was going somewhere on official business, and then, instead of going down to the hangar deck, go up.

Kevin and Lewis were working near the companionway. They had been assigned to clean the living compartment today. James came over just as Kevin rinsed the rag he had used to scrub the companionway railing thoroughly in a bucket of washing-up liquid.

‘Don’t be so tense,’ James said, grinning and patting his mate’s shoulder while Kevin brushed sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.

‘Rowling said –’ Kevin began, James grinning again.

‘Doesn’t matter what she said. I mean, this is just for… a pro forma. And you’re already sweating, I can see.’

Kevin snorted. ‘Well, what d’you suggest?’

‘Nothing unusual. Just take a rag and move it along the railing without exerting yourself. You’d think it was full of dirt. This is a spacecraft, not a submarine. The atmosphere inside isn’t completely sterile, but there are no layers of dust either. Look…’ James took the cleaning rag from Kevin and began to wipe the railing, slowly but with a strained expression on his face, though it was not hard to guess that he was not straining in the least. ‘Well, like this,’ he continued, returning the rag to Kevin.

‘Gee!’ Kevin laughed, took the rag from James, and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do?’

‘Yep!’ James nodded with a grin.

‘Mr Jenkins!’

James could not help but recognise this voice, which could only belong to the one and only person. And he was not mistaken. Flight Sergeant Rowling had, as usual, appeared at the most inopportune moment.

‘Have you nothing to do?’ she said in her usual icy tone. ‘I can easily find something for you.’

‘No, sir,’ James retorted. ‘I’m just –’ he stopped under the Flight Sergeant’s icy stare.

‘You already have two reprimands, Mr Jenkins,’ she said in her usual manner, ‘and I can see you are burning with the desire to add a third. Well, I can give it to you right now. Obviously, you don’t care what these reprimands do to your future, especially a promotion you shouldn’t have even dreamed of. However, I have no intention of continuing to tolerate the bad influence you are having on the personnel of our exemplary Squadron.’

With this tirade, Rowling turned on her heels and walked towards the airlock. As she disappeared around the corner, James recited after her,

A middle-aged lady from Ongar

went out for a walk, but it bored ’er.

And while she went back, a sex maniac

jumped out of a bush and… ignored ’er.

Kevin and Lewis roared with laughter. Suddenly, the Flight Sergeant appeared around the corner as if she had just taken a step backwards.

‘If you think this is funny, Jenkins,’ she said with no emotion, ‘you’re wrong. This is just stupid.’ She stepped forward at an almost marching pace and disappeared around the corner. James stood in the middle of the corridor, biting his nails.

‘Dumb cunt,’ he said through his teeth, immediately regretting it. Kevin and Lewis had rushed back to work when they saw Rowling, so it was unlikely one of them had heard him. But there was someone who had seen him, and that someone might well have heard him.

‘Jenkins!’ Flight Lieutenant Jennings’s vicious voice reached him from further down the corridor. He came closer and pointed his finger at James. ‘Forgot about tactical classes? Jump to the briefing room at once!’

James jumped …

… Lost in his thoughts, he barely listened to Squadron Leader Sawyer, who seemed quite enthusiastic as he showed some battle diagrams on his tablet’s virtual screen and talked about, as he called it, the new fighter control software being developed in Joint Command’s think tank. James missed most of this. Only after the lecture finished and Sawyer left the briefing room, Wil’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

‘Hey men!’ the A-Flight pilot called to them, ‘you’re all invited to my birthday party tonight.’

‘Oh!’

‘…Huh!’

‘…And how old are you? If it’s not a secret…’ several voices responded at once.

‘Twenty-one,’ Wil said back, a little embarrassed.

‘Where’s the party going to be?’ Sergeant Hancock asked, patting Wil on the shoulder, ‘In the mess?’

Wil shook his head with a regretful look on his face. ‘Nope. Rowling messed it up at the last moment, so our sleeping quarters, I guess.’

‘Nice place too,’ said Mike, chuckling, ‘and less crowded.’

‘Sure!’

‘I know a party without booze looks like sex without a partner,’ Wil said, spreading his hands, ‘but…’

Sergeant Hancock nodded. ‘That’s right, but nothing to do: dura lex sed lex.’

‘You mean a party or sex?’ someone asked with a laugh; James didn’t recognise whose voice it was.

The question remained unanswered; the entire team of pilots poured out into the corridor and made their way to the living compartment, James too. Wil had taken care of everything beforehand. A pile of snack packs lay on the table under the intercom monitor in the pilots’ sleeping quarters. The entire company was seated around the table in an instant.

‘I’d make a toast,’ said Ethan, Wil’s bunkmate, ‘but to be honest –’ he made a vague gesture with his fingers.

‘A toast without booze like –’ someone picked up.

‘Take your time, gentlemen,’ Mike interrupted, leaning over and pulling a small plastic container, which he placed on the table.

‘What is it?’ Wil asked wonderingly.

‘Well…’ Mike stretched enigmatically, ‘for those who haven’t forgotten school chemistry, two carbons, five hydrogens and one hydroxide. Three guesses what sorta substance that might be.’

A burst of joy was the answer, ‘Wow!’ ‘You’re a wizard, Sergeant!’

‘And for those who never knew?’ Kevin muttered. Mike slapped him lightly on the back of the head.

‘Alcohol, dummy!’

A row of plastic cups lined up on the table. Mike squirted some liquid from the canister into each, then diluted with water.

‘What about dura lex?’ Lewis grinned. Mike put a stern expression on his face. ‘Well… that’s important, indeed…’ His facial expression changed to an ironic grin. ‘But when the guns talk, the laws feel silent.’ He smiled and winked at his mates.

Six hands reached for their cups. ‘Cheers, Wil!’

It had been so long since James had a drink that he almost choked. The drink Mike had made was quite strong. The noise in the sleeping quarters immediately increased. James could no longer identify which voices belonged to whom and who was proposing the next toast, ‘To all of us!..’

‘To all of us for staying alive!’

‘Why is there such a mournful mood?’ Mike looked sternly at Kevin, and James guessed who had made that toast.

‘Exactly,’ Ethan supported, ‘this is a birthday party, not a…’

‘What’s a birthday party without music?’ Lewis shouted, interrupting Ethan.

‘And without dancing…’ Wil added with a laugh.

A strange feeling suddenly came over James. It seemed to him that something was wrong. He had no idea what it was, just a feeling.

‘…By the way,’ Wil went on. ‘The problem is easily solved…’ He stood, pulled a wire from his pocket and connected his communicator to the intercom monitor. ‘…This is music for all of you and especially for Lewis,’ he smiled and winked.

A melody that looked familiar to James came from the speakers.

‘Gosh!’ Lewis groaned. ‘Oh no!’

‘Why not?’ Mike was surprised. Lewis waved his hand dismissively.

‘Junk!’

‘Not at all,’ Wil said. ‘I like this song.’

‘Me too,’ Mike joined in. ‘My granddad was buried to this song,’ he added in a neutral tone.

‘Number two!’ Lewis exclaimed, waving his hands. ‘Only funeral music was missing!’

‘It’s not a funeral song,’ Mike disagreed. ‘It’s a really cool –’

‘Okay, okay…’ Wil gestured to stop this stormy debate. ‘We can do it ourselves.’ He winked again.

‘Can what?’

‘Music.’

‘That’s right!’ Kevin agreed.

What shall we sing?’

‘Whatever…’

‘Whatever but a good song.’

‘What do you mean a good song?’

‘I mean something not so mournful.’

‘And?’

‘Bring back my fighter!’ Wil yelled.

‘Yeah!’ Ethan supported.

‘…Cool!..’

‘…Right!..’ The pilots’ voices followed.

Eaton had a very pretty voice. James was even surprised. He had never thought that this guy could sing so melodiously that he had no need for musical accompaniment. The melody appeared all as if by itself. All the others joined in follow the soloist, at once drowning out the music with their drunken voices. Sergeant Hankook’s gift had done its work. For a while, James pulled follow his fellows, but then fell silent. He suddenly realised what was wrong and wondered why he had not thought of it before. All of a sudden, he felt himself very bad and very ashamed.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

‘Hey, mate…’ Mike seemed to notice his gloomy mood and patted him on the shoulder as the others continued to shout and scream the song. ‘Never say die. Cambria will not yield!’

James made no response and, when Mike looked away, tried to slip out of the sleeping quarters without anyone noticing him.

And nobody seemed to notice him as he stepped out into the corridor and headed for the nearest airlock. He found Tomyn in the vicinity of the junior staff mess. The Corporal has just eaten, and obviously not without relish. He looked very pleased.

‘Alright, Jimmy boy?’ he began holding his hand out to James.

‘We need to talk,’ James said, ignoring his hand. The Corporal’s eyebrows slid up a little.

‘Interesting,’ he replied with what seemed to James to be a predatory smile. ‘You heard something during your drunken party and decided to share it with me? Okay, I’m happy to listen, but only if you have something important. We might be seen together and I’m not sure that would be good for our friendly team.’

‘What’s good or bad for your team doesn’t shake me,’ James said, feeling as if he was losing his train of thought, affected by Tomyn’s enveloping voice. ‘I just –’ He stumbled and did not finish. The text he had prepared, which had seemed very convincing to him, evaporated from his mind.

‘So,’ the Corporal held on, ‘what do you want to talk about?’

‘I want to talk about Steve,’ James finally managed to articulate. Tomyn narrowed his eyes.

‘I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,’ he replied. ‘Your mate has committed a disciplinary offence. The decision is final and cannot be appealed.’

James heard the familiar sneer in the Corporal’s voice, which was beginning to annoy him.

‘You know very well, Tomyn,’ he said, trying to control himself, ‘it doesn’t matter now.’

The Corporal shook his head; a slightly mocking expression appeared on his face. ‘You’re playing a fool again, Jimmy boy,’ he said, stretching words. ‘The war is going on. Everything matters now. There is a possibility of sabotage as well as a possibility of banal sloppiness, which can have the same serious and negative consequences as sabotage –’

‘Bullshit, Tomyn,’ James interrupted. ‘You know this very well. The only thing that matters now is our duty. We’re here to fight the enemy, not to keep an eye on each other.’

‘Looking at you, Jimmy,’ said Tomyn made a sour face, ‘I’m surprised. You’re so naive. The boy stood on the burning deck from which all but he had fled. That’s you, Jimmy…’ he pointed his finger at James. ‘…You’d be standing on a burning deck while everyone else would save their lives. Say, what’s the point of dumbly hanging around a damaged cannon that can’t fire any more? Is this an example of inflexible devotion to duty? As for me, this is an example of inflexible stupidity.’

‘I always thought that poem was written a century before the Battle of Jutland,’ said James. Tomyn grimaced.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ he drawled scornfully. ‘It just proves that there have always been plenty of stupid boys like that who’ve taken the word “duty” too literally. Do you know what usually happens to them? They’re just dying dumbly.’

‘You can think whatever you want about me,’ said James. ‘As of today, you can consider our contract terminated. Tell this your closest bedfellow Moncroft. I don’t care if I have to testify before any commission again. It would be a great opportunity to tell them all about your tricks, isn’t it? Let’s see who ends up in shit and who doesn’t.’

James had not expected the reaction that followed. He waited for outrage, screaming, hysteria. Either Tomyn failed to take the hint, or the hint turned out to be a shot in the dark. The Corporal just laughed.

‘There’s one important thing you haven’t figured out yet, Jimmy boy,’ he began with a grin. ‘Our contract is not temporary, but permanent, or, as it’s sometimes written in orders, until further notification. However, such a notification will not be coming from you. You’re one of us now, and you must do what we demand of you. This is your duty now!’

James felt trapped again. Trying to calm himself down, he took several deep breaths and seemed to return to his previous state. His feeling of being trapped was gone. He saw a way out. It was not the way out he wanted, but at least it was a way out.

‘Understood,’ he said with a tone that sounded as if he was reassuring Tomyn, not himself. ‘I’m one of you, okay. But if I’m one of you, I think I’ve got the same rights as any of you, right? So I’d like to exercise my right. You forced me to become an eavesdropper, I broke down and said yes that was my mistake, but now nothing could be changed. Okay, I keep my end of the bargain, but you and your dearest bedfellow Moncroft keep yours. First of all, you drop all charges against Steve. I’m not interested in how it would be done, but it has to be done as soon as possible. You two can do whatever you want to me, except what you’re used to doing in bed together, but Steve must be back to the flying staff.’

‘Gosh! How stupid you are, Jimmy boy,’ Tomyn laughed. ‘I had a better opinion of you. By the way, your dirty hinting could be considered a breach of ethical standards.’

‘I’m not hinting at anything, and I fuck your opinion!’ James was almost out of control. His fingers clenched into a fist. ‘Understood?’

‘Well, let’s look at it from the other side –’ Tomyn began, James was not listening anymore. The desire that had raged inside him so long to wipe that mocking grin from Tomin’s face became simply irresistible. He had not even realised how he was swinging, and the next thing he knew, his fist had struck the Corporal’s still mocking face.

Tomyn felt something at the last moment and tried to turn away, but it was too late. James’s fist did not miss. He felt a blow and pain in his knuckles. The Corporal screamed first and then howled. James did not wait to see what would happen next. He turned and walked down the corridor, unaware of where he was going.

He only awoke near the companionway leading to the upper deck. He did not want to go back to Wil’s birthday party. Suddenly, he remembered that a lad called Max from the spacecraft crew had once invited him to visit him. That would be very helpful now. After some thought, he grabbed the railing and started to climb up. He soon found Max’s cabin on C-Deck, corridor 7. Max seemed a little surprised but welcomed him warmly. James had a good evening playing poker with the spacecraft’s junior officers, returning to his sleeping quarters long after lights out, unnoticed by the night duty officer. And he was not surprised when, after morning formation, the next day, he was summoned to the Section commander’s office.

‘Would you like to give any explanation, Astronaut First Class?’ said Flight Lieutenant Jennings.

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’ James reacted as if he did not understand.

‘You know well, what I’m telling about,’ Jennings muttered through his teeth.

‘No, sir,’ said James.

‘What does it mean no?’ The Flight Lieutenant seemed furious. James was well aware of what he was trying to get at by such a manner, but he did not even think of changing. ‘No means no, sir,’ was all he said.

‘What?!’ Jennings barked, not said.

‘I wouldn’t like to give an explanation, sir,’ James minted. It was evident that the Flight Lieutenant was struggling to keep his composure.

‘Guess what,’ he spoke up after a short pause and again through his teeth. ‘I can send you not only to follow Wolverton. I can send you even far away!’

James felt his jaw muscles twitch. ‘That’s your prerogative, sir,’ he said.

‘Damn it, Jenkins!’ the Flight Lieutenant had blown up. ‘It’s not my prerogative, that’s my duty. Understand?’

James had no answer to this obviously rhetorical question. Jennings looked at him with unblinking eyes that now showed no sign of the Flight Lieutenant’s taste for alcohol.

‘This is not a Trafalgar-era sailing ship,’ Jennings continued more calmly. There is no brig on board or any other room for prisoners. Nobody could even imagine…’ he intoned the last word, ‘such a thing would be needed in a spacecraft. You’ll be restricted to quarters until further orders. Understood?’

James remained silent. Jennings’s face turned crimson.

‘Get out!’ he barked, so loud James thought he could hear his voice echoing down the corridors.

Without knowing why, he turned around on the spot, as if in formation, and left the commander’s cabin at a marching pace. Just crossing the threshold, he thought it was stupid and unnecessary, just like all the other things he had done in the last few days.

Fortunately, no one was in the pilots’ sleeping quarters. He climbed into his bunk, lay down, and closed his eyes. If someone came in now and asked him what had happened, the result might be the same as his conversation with Tomyn. Nobody asked him anything, as if all of them knew why Astronaut First Class Jenkins had turned up under house arrest. Mike and Wil brought him dinner. Half an hour later, Sergeant Robertson of A-Flight, who was on duty in the living compartment, looked in and said, as if embarrassed by his own words, that James should call him if he needed ‘to go out’ as he put it rather than ‘to the shitter’ as he usually said. This East London lad did not mince his words.

He woke up as usual early next morning, and only then did he remember that he did not have to rush to the morning formation. He ate his breakfast delivered by Kevin and sat on Steve’s empty bunk, staring blankly at the intercom screen where the numbers were flashing one after the other, counting the time: fifteen minutes, half an hour, an hour… He did nothing because he had nothing to do.

His roommates had long since left for their official duties. Glowing numbers on the intercom monitor routinely counted seconds, minutes, and hours. He continued to sit and look at the monitor but saw neither the numbers nor the monitor itself. He saw the hull of the transport craft appear on the virtual screen of his flight helmet on the day it all began.

‘Hello, James…’ a voice, which sounded familiar, came to him. James, not expecting visitors, perked up and raised his head. Dr Kirkpatrick was standing in the hatchway. He stretched and said sluggishly, ‘Doctor? Is someone sick?’

She shook her head. ‘No one, I hope. I just came to see a friend of mine.’

‘A friend of yours?’ he replied. ‘And who is that, me?’

She nodded.

‘Wow!’ James continued to fool around, which made no sense, but his temptation was irresistible. ‘Am I already your friend? Unbelievable! By the way, how did you know I was stuck here?’

‘Rumours travel fast aboard this ship,’ she said with a smile entering the sleeping quarters. ‘Actually, Oliver told me.’

‘Oliver?’

She looked around the sleeping quarters, and her eyebrows arched slightly as if, in surprise, she shook her head and sat down on the bench opposite James.

‘Yep. Good boy, isn’t he? It’s just a bit strange that you two have become friends.’

‘Because he’s good and I’m bad?’ said James. She smiled again, but in a somewhat other way.

‘No, it’s just… you’re both very different. But as for you, you’re not as bad as you try to make yourself out to be.’

‘Are you sure?’

Dr Kirkpatrick nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

James nodded, too. ‘Well, what if I tell you a story about how I got here?’

She chuckled. ‘I think it’s a common story. You smashed someone’s face in.’

‘Not someone’s, but –’

‘…a rare bastard,’ she continued after him, ‘am I right?’

He nodded again in agreement, thinking that the doctor was right to characterise Tomyn that way, even if she knew nothing about whom he was talking about.

‘You’re right. But the main point is why I smashed his face in.’

Dr Kirkpatrick smiled. ‘Probably because this guy turned out to be a rare bastard,’ she said. ‘I think so.’

James shook his head negatively. ‘You’re wrong, Dr Jessica. I did this because I turned out to be a rare bastard myself.’

‘Oh…’ she raised her eyebrow, ‘you think you’ve done something… er… disgraceful, don’t you?’

‘Not just think,’ said he sorrowfully, ‘I’ve done it.’

‘Hmm…’ she paused as if thinking. ‘But you don’t want to talk about it.’

He nodded silently.

‘…That’s good,’ she rubbed her nose.

‘Good?’

‘Sure. At least you had the guts to admit your mistake.’

He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a mistake, it was a choice… I shouldn’t have done it, but I’ve done.’

‘Let me say –’

‘Doesn’t matter, Doctor!’ cried James, interrupting her. ‘I’ve already done it!’

‘Oh yeah…’ she nodded after pausing, taking a deep breath. 'What’s done is done… But those words, I suppose…’ She changed her posture. It looked like sitting on that hard bench for so long was not so comfortable and unusual for her. ‘…don’t have the same meaning for you as for Lady Macbeth.’

He smiled bitterly. ‘Uh-huh, I didn’t poison anyone or… whatever else she did. I just turned out to be a fucking coward and…’

She shook her head negatively again. ‘Nonsense. You’re not a coward at all. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have joined the Space Force.

‘One has nothing to do with the other –’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Doctor! –’ he cried and stopped. The right words seemed to have slipped out of his mind again. ‘You… you know nothing about me but you want to claim something. That’s not why I joined the Space Force. It was…’ He paused. Dr Kirkpatrick looked at him; got up from the bench she was sitting on, looked around the sleeping quarters, and sat down again.

‘Okay, tell me… or you don’t want to talk about it too?’

He shrugged. ‘Hmm… not at all. I can tell you why not. At least you’d understand what I mean.’

She tilted her head slightly. ‘Go on…’

‘Why did I join the Space Force? Um, how shall I put it… I guess… I wanted…’ He paused again. ‘Well, in short, I wanted to change my life… something like that.’

‘Yep,’ the doctor nodded. ‘You weren’t happy with your life?’

James shrugged mechanically. ‘Well, I just didn’t… um… the prospects weren’t very… encouraging. I mean… I think you understand.’

‘Honestly, I don’t understand,’ she said in a manner reminded James of his maths teacher at school. ‘So, what about the encouraging prospects?’

‘As I said, the prospects weren’t very encouraging.’

Dr Kirkpatrick looked at him intently and chuckled.

‘Can you be more specific, please,’ said she.

‘Well…’ he impaled his hands, ‘something like sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll, syphilis, AIDS, overdose.’

She smiled and shook her head. ‘I see… But I do believe you weren’t in danger of any of that. Well, apart from sex and rock ’n’ roll, of course.’

‘Are you sure?’

She nodded affirmatively.

‘Why?’

‘Well, firstly –’ she paused briefly, ‘because you told me about it. And then… your… um, how shall I put it, personality type doesn’t fit –’

‘Does my so-called personality type fit with what I’ve done?’ he interrupted snorting.

She shrugged and shifted again. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done. I can only guess, and I could be wrong. But I’d like to say that you’re not the type to be easily tempted.’

‘Are you a Medicine Doctor or a psychologist?’

She shrugged again. ‘Maybe, a little of both. By the way, a medical doctor should be a bit of a psychologist. Otherwise, it’s not always easy to figure out what kind of person you’re dealing with. But without it, it’s impossible to make a correct diagnosis.’

They were silent for a while.

‘Why are you so worried about me?’ he began again.

She smiled and shrugged. ‘Well… how can I put it… I like you…’

‘Wow!’ he laughed. ‘And what do you like about me?’

Now, she laughed, too. ‘Your cheekiness, for example,’ she said with a smile. ‘And you remind me of my son. He’s younger than you, of course, but –’

‘Huh!’ he chuckled, ‘a maternal instinct.’

‘Huh, you keep being cheeky,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘I suppose you were very popular at your school.’

‘Not so,’ said he. ‘One of my classmates was more popular.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep, he was a hooker, but I was a fly-half.’

‘Sometimes a fly-half can decide the fate of a match,’ she said. Then she got up from the bench and moved to Steve’s former bunk alongside James. ‘Well…’ she waved her hand, ‘it doesn’t matter. As for your problem, as I said, you almost solved it yourself. You’ve realised your mistake and admitted it, no matter how terrible it was, or vice versa, especially if it was a terrible mistake. It costs a lot. Many people don’t admit their mistakes at all. But that is quite normal, especially at your age. I made mistakes, too, believe me. Everyone makes mistakes –’

‘But not like mine!’ he shouted, interrupting her. She waved her hand.

‘All kinds. The problem is not that you made a mistake. The problem would be if you didn’t realise, you made a mistake. You did. You did it yourself, without anyone’s help or prompting. And most importantly, once you realise your mistake, you can always correct it.’

James shook his head sadly. ‘Not in my case, Doctor!’

She took a deep breath. ‘Well, I can’t say in any case, of course, but I’m sure there are no hopeless situations. I can tell you from experience that those who arrested you were also young like you, and they had similar cases. Rest assured, they understand…’ She smiled and stroked his head tenderly. ‘Hey, man of Harlech, march to glory…’

James shuddered. Wil’s birthday party came back to his mind, and Mike’s words prompted him to search for Tomyn, which he eventually did and never regretted. And he continued unwittingly, ‘…See, your banner famed in story…’

She smiled, and a moment later, they were singing together,

‘…Waves these burning words before ye,

Welshmen never –’

They had no time to finish the song. Suddenly, a heavy blow shook the ship, and James heard a sharp metallic grating. The overhead lights went out instantly, and darkness fell around him. He heard Dr Kirkpatrick’s loud exclamation. At that moment, his body lost weight and tore away from the bunk he was sitting in. With no time to react, he floated up and hit his head on the edge of the top bunk, feeling not only the pain of the blow but also a noticeable drop in temperature. The artificial gravity system had shut down of its own accord, along with the life-support system. Such a spontaneous and synchronous shutdown of these two critical ship systems could only mean one thing.