I stared at the screen, and my hopes were dashed. It remains unchanged. The red blip was still there, the same as the last three days. Three days of worry, three days of watching the blip. Never coming closer, yet never falling behind.

The ship was fifteen yards from bow to stern. The beam was five yards from port to starboard. I sat in the command chair in the bow of the vessel. Most of my time during the current predicament has been spent in this chair.

The great expanse of a vast open horizon was a sight that I was a sight to behold. I felt free, something that few in sprawling cities of the Federation would ever know. I was paid to be here, to find new worlds and resources, and fuel the unending growth of civilization.

Unbeknownst to them, I would do it for free. A single moment of silence and freedom was priceless. There was nothing like it in the heart of civilization. Most would go a lifetime shoulder to shoulder with their fellow human beings.

I had been assigned this role for the needs of the Federation and raised from birth to be a Scout. The Federation knew what your future entailed. Every citizen had a position, and every position had a citizen. Who was I to question the guiding principle of a thousand worlds?

The thrill of the chase is a universal trait that all species of predator encounter. The fear of the hunted is an aspect few willingly speak about. Had we naught conquered the stars? Was Humanity not the apex predator on uncounted worlds?

Looking towards the blip, I wondered just how true that was. This world had never before felt the touch of a human. The creatures had no ingrained fear of the pack that was Humanity. Nature here had not thrown in her gloves. While the outcome would be the same, this was just the beginning of the end.

In the collective, there is always a sacrificial lamb. The one sent ahead to walk the path that others would follow. “Pie, how far is the island?” I needed to hear a voice, even if it was my own. Even the creche knew the value of the sounds of Humanity,

“Commander, the Island is approximately one hundred miles away. We will arrive at our current speed within the hour,” Pie replied. The voice didn’t carry beyond my mind. From birth, we are given an implant that connects us to the Federation and it to us. Pie has been with me since the moment of my birth.

I was chilled to the bone, soaked completely through. The wind crashed into me, and I braced myself against the command chair. The ship and I were the only objects to impede its motion from horizon to horizon. The light of the dual suns glinted off the hull. Shading my eyes, I looked towards my destination.

“Hope springs eternal,” Pie ignores my quip. He has spent a lifetime with me and knows when a response is needed.

My eyes went from the blip to the spot on the horizon the ship was headed towards. Every wave’s crest brought me closer to my destination but no further from my purser. I had forgotten what it was like to see an empty screen. For three restless nights, I pleaded for the nightmare to end.

I was just one drop in an endless sea of Humanity for the entirety of my life. The night held no terrors, the day no surprises. Thousands of generations of Humanity had forced Nature to bend to the will of the herd. Even when I was training for this role, I was never truly alone.

Here on the fringes of the Federation, a Scout traveled alone. In the vastness of space, resources were limited. “One World, One Scout” was our motto. One human and one personal artificial intelligence were the makeup of citizens of the Federation.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Pie, pull up the map once more” I sat down in the command chair. Pie imposed the map in my mind’s eye. This world was made up of great patches of water, with a few landmasses thrown in for good measure. My destination was a midsized island. Satellite mapping marked it as ten miles wide and thirty miles long.

The details were spare as I had been in the system for only a few days. The mapping had just finished finding all the major land masses. The Island was large enough to be seen from space unaided. It had been marked as a possible site for landing.

“Pie, are there any more details on the blip?” I took a long breath and slowly released it.

“Commander, the situation is still unchanged. As you know, our vessel was meant only to be used for transportation.” Pie’s tone was not quite frustrated. I don’t think I had ever heard of a PAI being frustrated. At least not where any human could listen. The unknown depths of the information highway could only be plunged so far by the human mind.

Pie had told me about the same thing for the last three days. Every time I asked hoped the answer would change anyway. My training had never prepared me for a situation where the PAI would not have an answer. Pie was not only my constant companion. The PAI network was the bedrock of our society.

Generations had lived and died under the watch and guidance of a PAI. They were our teachers, companions, therapists, and to some, our watchdogs. In the past three days, I felt like a toddler walking for the first time. Like a toddler, I had taken my first steps into the unknown.

Unlike a toddler, no one can pick me up when I tumble. The wild of any world was not a place for the faint of heart. My training had prepared me for self-reliance and survival. I took a calming breath and said, “Pie, alert me if there is any change in the blip or when we are ten minutes from the island.”

I was at the top of my class, and while this was a new mystery, the following steps were known to me. I was going to establish a beachhead on the Island and begin my survey. Under other circumstances, the Island would have made an ideal starting location. It was a chance to research and observe the biosphere in a controlled way.

“Commander, we are ten minutes out. The blip still maintains the same separation. “Pie said.

I looked toward the Island looming in front. Green, for as far as I could see, the tops of thousands of trees, home to any jungle the galaxy over. The emergent trees were not Kapok, but the saying form follows function never looked truer. I gazed upon the sun shining over the treetops.

That, of course, was the moment a massive rock formation rose from the ground. As the tip crashed through the vessel, the beam cracked apart. Splinters of metal shot forth into the ocean. A bubble of force arose around me.

“Commander, the ship has lost integrity and has split into multiple pieces. The safety field has been activated. “Pie reacted at speeds that the human mind can’t imagine.

That speed had saved my life, a debt I would never forget. The command chair and I crashed into the sea as and battled about. The safety of a Scout is paramount, and his comfort is not a consideration. As the ocean rocked the chair, a screen appeared superimposed on my eyes.

The crash had sent the chair towards the ocean. A dot marking my position showed that and other information. The most important was the icon of a chair and the direction it was facing. “Pie, active the engines and put us on the island.” The world slowed down around me, and my thoughts raced ahead.

Training had made one thing clear, in any emergency, assess first, act last. As I finished the first, I moved to the last. “Mark this position and send a signal to the Great Mother.” A Mayday was my greatest hope at this point.

“Commander, I cannot send any signals beyond the line of sight. We will crash upon the sands in less than a minute.” Just once, I wished he had a soothing tone.

I braced myself in the chair as best as I was able. Before the strap could be connected, the chair tumbled into the sand. I was thrown forward and back, up and down. With a crack, my arm smacked into the force field. With a final jerk, the chair settled into silence.

The pain was instant, cascading down my arm and into my soul. The force field collapsed, and I fell to the sand. Looking up, I saw a pillar of darkness before me. The darkness closed in until there was nothing of me left.