“If they’re humanoid, maybe they breathe oxygen. You think we can breathe in here?” Mackenzie asked, Juno listening over the radio.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” Hadden replied, “Even if they did, the ship could be filled with all sorts of foreign bacteria. Taking your helmet off might kill you. Even worse, if we returned to the ship contaminated we could infect the crew with who knows what.”
“Keep those helmets on,” Juno commanded for certainty’s sake.
There was only one place left for Juno to investigate: the adjacent hallway she’d seen earlier. With the bravery of a timid mouse she peeked in her head.
The hall had thick glass walls on either side looking into odd sets of shadowed rooms. It was stunningly dark inside.
None of the lights seemed to function on this side of the ship, that was, except for one at the far end of the corridor. A door sat beneath it, suspiciously lit like a beacon in the dark.
An uneasy feeling followed Juno as she stepped inside. There was no hum of an engine, or the dull whisper of a ventilation system. The ship was completely still. For Juno, there was only the sound of moist breath in her helmet, and the cautious rhythm of her feet.
Peeking through the glass, she could just make out some type of metallic room. The outer wall was also made of glass, and the stars peeked back at her from the other side. The shapes of science junk littered different tables. Glassware and strange devices slept in the dark. Everything was where it had been left, as if about to be used before whatever fateful action occurred; a litany of scientific discoveries forgone by the emergency.
What a shame.
“I found some kind of science wing on this end. It looks like a set of labs. I think this ship was a research vessel.”
“Can you tell what kind of research they were doing?”
“No clue.” She tried to imagine the lab busy with alien scientists, heads down in their research, the looming image of Cautlus ever present outside their windows. It was a view Juno envied.
The ship obviously had money. This wasn’t a private venture.
Juno, like a tantalized moth, made her way to the door at the end of the hall. Inside, she spied a similar room to the AI core, but without an AI port. She noted the keypad on the lock.
Upon inspection this keypad had something different about it. Instead of dead, colorless plastic, the buttons were backlit green, one by one in a calm sequence, repeating over and over. Juno fiddled with a button or two in curiosity. Both bled red at her touch.
Seems like we’d have to cut open the doors if we wanted to get in anywhere.
“Hadden, Mackenzie. You find anything?”
“A locker room, of sorts. Having trouble getting into the lockers. Might try busting them open soon,” Hadden said.
“Don’t bother. This ship looks dead. I don’t see the crew anywhere. We’re chasing ghosts. Let a rescue team inspect the salvage.”
“Yes, ma’am. Permission to stay aboard. I want to look around some more.”
“Go ahead. Mackenzie you have leave to do as you please. I’m headed back to the ship.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Juno turned from the odd room to go when the light above the door suddenly died. The hall flooded with darkness. It flickered back on a second later.
Juno gave it brief attention, thinking the timing odd, but ultimately went on her way– The light flickered again before her next step. She stopped.
Could it be the AI? She wondered. What was it trying to get my attention?
Juno stepped up to the door once more. The keypad still blinked green… this time each key in the sequence blinked twice. It suddenly clicked. It’s the code. The ship is giving me the code.
Juno pressed one of the green blinking buttons, but it was out of sequence. The button flashed red. However, the whole keyboard went dark. Then one single button flashed. She pressed it. It glowed green in response. The ship gave her the rest of the sequence.
In a whisper of hydraulic pressure the doors split open.
Inside, a terminal awoke: the first signs of true life. In contrast, a lifeless suit sat propped up against the wall across from it, as if just deciding to sit down and fall asleep. Its legs were out straight, arms limply at the side, helmet drooping over the chest.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Although, this one looked oddly… filled.
Juno’s inspection brought her closer to the suit, where she knelt by its side. Out from the glass bowl hemet, a strangely inhuman skull peered sidelong at her. The image was grisly.
“I found a body,” was what Juno planned to say at the exact moment the doors shut behind her. Snapping to, Juno frantically tapped the inside keypad. The buttons all glowed red when she pressed them. She was trapped. Her anxiety only worsened when all the lights in the room shut off.
Only the terminal remained lit. Its face spilled out onto the opposing wall, catching the dead body’s head. In grotesque mimicry, the dead astronaut appeared to be watching the terminal. After a moment of self reflection, a calm settled over Juno. The AI is just trying to show me something.
After a deep breath, she stood before the terminal. The lights in the room flickered back on.
“I found a terminal. The AI has locked me in the room. I think it wants me to read it.”
“It’s locked you in?” Pressly was dumbfounded.
“We’re on our way, Commander,” Mackenzie said.
“No, no. It’s alright. Stay where you are. I’d rather not freak this thing out.”
“Commander. This shouldn’t be possible. A ship AI wouldn’t have clearance to lock up crewmembers.” Pressly said.
“Whatever it wants must be important. I want to see what it has. It might tell us what happened here.”
“If those are your orders, Commander. If you send us some scans of the language, we can translate whatever’s on it.” Pressly said.
“I hear you.”
Juno pressed a button on a physical keyboard on the console. The display lit up with options in alien text. Some were red, and some were green. Others were completely grayed out. She scanned the screen with her suit scanners.
“Alright. Sending scans to the AI module. Give us a couple moments,” Pressly acknowledged.
In her helmet, a small series of emitters displayed the translation across the inside of the glass. The alien runes morphed one by one into the more readable Human Standard.
“We don’t have a database of alien languages, so we still don’t know who was speaking it. We can take this data back to the Nerus and I’m sure they can find out.”
“Understood,” Juno replied looking over the newly translated terminal options, “It looks like this terminal houses a number of functions relating to the labs. I see a quarantine option, but it’s not selected. The ship looks to be in lockdown, not quarantine. I’ll keep looking for answers as to why.”
!LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT!
Ship Logs
Lab Activities
AI Quarantine Status [OFFLINE]
AI Ship Control Status [ONLINE]
AI Ship control status? She pressed that option.
AI Ship Control Status [ONLINE]
Status of the ship: LOCKDOWN IN EFFECT
Ship AI has been granted full access to ship capabilities. Access granted by Captain M’Lius on !#$#@!@#
The translation Is incomplete. It’s probably a stardate.
Resume onboard control?
/Y
/N
Juno chose the option: /Y
WARNING: Ship control will resume. All LOCKDOWN procedures will be lifted. Ship will resume normal function. Continue?
/Y
Juno pressed the option but the button flashed red.
Do you wish to continue? All LOCKDOWN procedure will be lifted. Ship will resume normal function?
Undeterred, she pressed it again. Flashing red, the button color faded and the keyboard became colorless. In a fit, she pressed it again.
LOCKDOWN lifted. AI has returned command to the crew after 300 DAYS and 4 HOURS of control. Crew now in command. Captain M’Lius resumes command of the ship.
Suddenly, the door split open and the lights in the hall flickered to life one by one. The labs were soaked in harsh white light.
“Power’s back. We should have access to everything now.”
“Good work, Commander,” Hadden said. Juno continued her search. She chose:
Ship Logs:
Juno was inundated with strange glyphs and scripts. The logs went on and on. She’d have to focus on that later. Let’s see what they were researching. What kind of lab is this?
Lab Activities:
Litosa’s Logs
Research Logs
Cautlus Reports
Funding Limits and Restrictions
Ship Internals
Juno chose Litosa’s Logs
Litosa’s Logs:
(This is personal! Stay out, N’trayu)
…………………………………………..
Cautlus Expedition Logs
Personal Logs
The Cautlus Expedition Logs contained dated data about collected materials, outpost locations, and various minor details concerning their expeditions. It was useless research.
Personal Logs
Day 1
Day 10
Log 30
…
Day 1 …
Cautlus. It was just a white ball when we first saw it. I couldn’t believe this was the place ‘N’chago had talked about for days on end back in the university. It was nothing more than a frozen marble. As we approached I could feel the excitement in the ship growing. As for me, I just couldn’t see what was so special about it.
The crew chattered on about Cautlus, Cautlus, Cautlus ceaselessly for months while we prepared for the first voyage planetside. By the end, I was sick of it. I didn’t care about this ice ball. I didn’t care about whatever fantasies the team conjured up about it to fill time on the station. And I sure as hell didn’t care for that stick-up-his-ass Captain always breathing down our necks. Back then, I wished I had never accepted this stupid job, which was a shame. By the time we returned from our first expedition, my mind had been completely changed.
I sit back now, writing this with a mind whirring with ideas. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight. I’m too excited.
I can’t believe I ever doubted ‘N’Chago’s mind. He is the smartest person I’ve ever known. But there was no way to anticipate what we discovered. Not even ‘N’Chago with his brilliant scholar’s mind could admit the certainty of such a find beforehand. How was I supposed to know what was waiting for us down there? How was any of us supposed to know?