Introduction part 1: Difficult Beginnings
How can you begin a story with neither a start nor an end? It wasn’t easy for me, but I’ve had a lot of time to think and I believe I’m finally ready to tell my story. I have no idea what will happen to this diary from this point, but if you are reading it, please do not dismiss it as the ramblings of a doped mind. My pills ran out hours ago and I am coming down little by little. I am writing this with a clear mind, perhaps clearer than I have had it in years. Hindsight will do that to man.
Before we begin, why don’t I start with a little introduction? Nothing much to say about me, but my name is Lars Leland. Although I’m short, I’m also fairly strong and I keep my blonde hair short. I was head of security on a spaceship a long, long way away from Earth, our mission: to test the survivability of man in space. Suffice to say that things did not go entirely as planned. Where I am now is not where we start out. And my thawing went so smoothly.
TRIBULATION INTRODUCTION 1: DIFFICULT BEGINNINGS
He awoke slowly by the sound of tapping fingers on glass. He had slowly been waking up the last few days, dreams eluding him and sensation returning to his limbs. The lid slipped open and the world returned to him in a haze with a muffled, echoing sound, but that was to be expected. After all, he had been asleep for so long, lying in a white metal pod with only a small window above his face for his lifeless eyes to study the ceiling. Slowly, the face of the man who had been so nervously rapping on his little chamber came into focus, a man he would recognise anywhere.
“Dammit, Lars, don’t ever make me that nervous again!” The voice was still distorted somewhat and the ringing in his ears didn’t make it any better. His throat was hoarse but he still heard himself speak.
“You know I was scheduled to wake a week after you, Ulrich.” Lars grabbed around the edges of his small compartment and heaved himself up, but Ulrich took him under an arm and helped him out on his feet. He was in his own quarters, a small red room of some metal. The sleeping pod stood opposite the entrance, a desk on the right side and a drawer for any personal effects on the left. An opening next to the drawers led to his private bedroom.
“Oh yeah... guess I forgot,” Ulrich replied and chuckled. He was a tall man with long limbs and a face full of sturdy red hair; a bushy beard and shoulder-length hair with a bald crown. Unlike Lars, Ulrich was a cheerful man who always smiled and took things lightly. He had a quick wit and was always dependable.
“Perhaps if you took things seriously for a change,” but Lars’ voice failed him and choked in his throat. Being frozen for so long had made him stiff and standing up made him dizzy and nauseous.
“You’re lucky, old buddy. I was the first to awake, ain’t no one there to help me. Had to crawl my way on all fours to the medical bay,” Ulrich said and assisted his friend through the room and out into the hall that ran like a metallic tube through the ship and connected the various rooms. Lars and Ulrich had been lucky enough to get their own rooms placed conveniently close to the sickroom. The rest of the security team slept in large dormitories with only a chest to call their own.
Ulrich was dressed in a deep purple one piece suit with black metal boots, which only made Lars realise he himself was naked. His left arm was slung across the shoulder of his friend, but managed to examine his face with the other. Everything was still there and his cheeks and chin were still smooth. His blonde hair had not grown either and was relatively short.
Lars blacked out for a second and found himself parked on a chair, where he spent the next minute getting his bearings again. It was just a small consultation room made of the same nondescript metal with a coating of red paint. The room was decorated like his own with the addition of the chair he was sitting on next to the desk, a large medical cabinet and some holo-posters with diagrams of the human anatomy. Ulrich emerged from an adjacent room opposite the desk with a cup of foaming, sizzling water and placed it on the table next to Lars.
“Drink. It’ll wash the antifreeze right out of your system and clear your head,” Lars said and peered down at his friend, to see if everything was all right.
Lars grabbed around the glass, shivering, and spilled the liquid all over himself on his hand’s way to his mouth. He managed to get enough inside to satisfy his friend, who gave him a smile and a light pad on the shoulder. “Didn’t expect it to be this bad, did you? It gets worse. Once you start feeling okay, your body will have some uh... residual waste to be disposed of. I would find the toilet now if I were you.”
There hadn’t been much time to inspect the ship apart from drawings. It had been assembled out in space and the various parts had been sent to a temporary docking station and there assembled. He, along with Ulrich and the rest of the security force, had been among the first to arrive, followed by the scientists and maintenance crew. The cryostasis had commenced shortly after their first round of inspection.
Lars got up from his seat and shuffled back to his room. His legs no longer felt like leaden weights, so the stuff he had drunk must be working. Now, however, it felt like his stomach was on fire, spreading out through his limbs and into his head.
He went back into the corridor and saw his room just down to the left. He placed a hand on the door which promptly vanished. It wasn’t real, nothing more than a force field designed to resemble a door. The same was true for the door into his bathroom. It was equipped with a bucket-like instrument, the toilet, and a small compartment, the shower, for his convenience. A spare set of clothes had been placed on the floor.
Lars returned to the medical bay about an hour later, visibly paler, but walking straighter and with the exalted gait of a man in his position. He too was now dressed in boots and one-piece like Ulrich, except Lars’ uniform bore an emblem identifying him as captain of the security force. Ulrich had taken his seat and was examining one of the holo-posters which he had taken off the wall.
“Wanna grab something to eat?” Ulrich asked and got up on his feet, but Lars turned noticeably green upon the request.
“I’d prefer it if we could do the rounds now,” Lars replied in his best business tone.
“Just woke up after three years and the man already wants to do his duty,” Ulrich said and threw an arm around his friend.
“I was chosen for my position for a reason, Ulrich.”
“Yes, yes, I understand. Come along then, if you insist.”
Ulrich took the lead with Lars following just behind, taking him down the hall and away from their living quarters. The other members of the security force, also dressed in purple liveries and black boots, greeted him as they passed the various dormitories and mess halls and Lars made sure to show his respect and greet them back, every one of the fifty members on his staff.
It took them some time, understandably, before arriving at their destination. The hallway ended abruptly into a dead-end where nothing but a large silver orb had been pressed into an indentation in the wall.
“Bio-dome 01,” Ulrich said and a hatch opened in the silver bubble. He gave the “After you” gesture and Lars entered the silver ball and sat down on a bench, Ulrich taking a seat opposite him. The hatch closed and the inside filled up with white foam that pressed them up against the sides.
The silver bubble took off in a bright flash that rocketed it forward at a tremendous speed. The spaceship consisted of kilometres after kilometres of tunnels and halls and rooms, with several layers up and above, so this was something like an elevator, just sideways. Bubbles like these tumbled through the ship at extreme speeds through the small subways hidden deep beneath the ship with several exits all over the place.
It would have taken them hours to walk the distance, but with this curious mode of transportation, they arrived only minutes later. The foam that filled the bubble was shock absorbent and they barely even noticed how violently they moved or even that they had ceased to move. The foam was sucked back into walls of the metal ball and the door opened again. Both men stumbled out, like they had just been sitting in a rollercoaster.
“After such a long time, you’d think they’d have found some better way to get around,” Ulrich said and cracked his back.
“You know what they say: don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Lars said and came out behind Ulrich.
They were once more in a hall similar to the one they had come from, except the colour scheme here was blue. A nifty way to differentiate the different parts of the ship, which could otherwise get confusing when everything was so similarly built. For extra clarification, a holo-sign just above the bubble announced clearly that they were now in Bio-dome 01. Or rather, the hall leading there.
“Loosen up, mate. Ain’t no one here to tell you what to do,” Ulrich said as they started down the hall.
“I’ll remind you that I am the highest authority here. I need to set an example, something that I trust you did in my absence. I just hope your lax attitude hasn’t demoralised the entire crew in the past week,” Lars said unassumingly.
“You never change, do you, Lars?”
“The fate of Earth rests upon our shoulders. You’ll have to excuse me if I withhold my enthusiasm.”
“Yes, yes, Mr Captain,” Ulrich said and waved his hand. “Bio-dome 01 is running as expected and the thawing of everyone went according to plan. As for the project, well... you’ll see when we get there.”
They passed a lot of doors on their way, leading to dormitories and dining rooms, among other things, for the scientists. The corridor ended out in a small lobby that doubled as an observation deck with bathroom on the right and office on the left. A large window opposite the entrance allowed for a view of the dome, all of which was crawling with plants and trees of all shapes and sizes.
A scientist dressed in white shoes, blue jeans and a white coat came out of the office to greet them when he heard them coming. He had long curly brown hair and smiled.
“Good to see our security chief awake again. I tried to tell your friend here to stop worrying, that you weren’t scheduled to wake for another week,” he said and shook Lars’ hand.
“Pleasure meeting you again as well, Dr James,” said Lars and nodded slightly in reverence.
“Please, just call me Ronnie. I’m not a god, you know?” the scientist said humbly. “Although I do admit that the things we’ve accomplished here is nothing short of divine. Just take a look down there”
Ronnie led them over to the window and threw an arm into the air. Lars came up beside him, and he could see what Ronnie meant. Everything looked small from up here, but Lars could see that the ground was covered in grass and trees and bushes. The area was enormous and seemed almost like a wildlife park, except there were only plants and vegetation here.
Androids, built slightly larger than humans and with visible metal skin, did the chores down there while humans in white lab coats went around and checked that everything was running as planned.
A shining red apple lay on a table just under the window, and Ronnie handed it to Lars. His stomach was slowly settling down and he began to feel unmistakable pangs of hunger. He had eaten a large meal before he was frozen to keep his minimal bodily activity working, but that was long gone by now. He bit into the apple and his face immediately assumed a grimace.
“Bleargh,” he said, forgetting his official manners for just a second. “This tastes nothing like an apple, you know?”
“That’s because we can only grow so many things here,” Ronnie said with a smile. “All the vitamins and nutrition have to be received by a smaller variable of food items, so we developed apples that would be extra healthy and doubly satiating.”
Lars gave the apple a disappointed look and put it down on the table again. “Please tell me at least that Bio-dome 02 was a success as well.”
“Well why don’t we go take a look?” Ulrich said. He was still standing in the doorway, grinning broadly at his friend’s reaction.
Bio-dome 02, as opposed to 01, was a large glass dome designed to test the prospect of having animals in space, in particular ones that could be used for eating and wearing. Pigs and cows roamed on an enormous area with plenty of grass and water, and androids ensured optimal conditions for the livestock in the absence of humans. Various small houses had been established here for observation and slaughter alike, everything they needed to get the hides or meat or milk from the animals living here.
They arrived by bubble to this dome as well. The hall was similar to the previous dome’s with doors on all sides leading to the recreational areas dormitories. Likewise, the layout of the lobby was identical as well with toiletries on the right, office on the left and window right in front. The area here just had a green paint scheme with green walls.
The head scientist for this project didn’t exactly have a welcoming aura about him. He simply stood before the window overlooking his project, looking up at the see-through ceiling, his gaze lost in the stars beyond. He didn’t even turn around to greet them, but Lars could see that he was a tall man with long silky black hair and purple-tinted glasses perched on his nose.
“Head of security, Captain Lars Leland, checking in for a report,” Lars said. The scientist slowly pried his head away and turned to look at him.
“John Osborne, head farmer around here,” he said in a tired voice. “The animals have been left alone for three years but do not display any significant signs of going feral. Must be the contact with the stand-ins”
“In other words, everything here is just peachy,” Ulrich said and came up on Lars’ right.
“No, everything’s bloody well not peachy,” Osborne said and looked at Ulrich. “We have far fewer chickens than we should have, everything taking into account. The survivors show no sign of disease, and we can’t seem to locate the corpses. Not to mention someone’s been eating our provisions”
“Do you have any idea why?” Lars asked concerned.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation!” Ulrich said. “I mean, they are the smallest in the chain around.”
“Are you suggesting the cows ate the chicken? And what about the stored food?” Osborne asked and gave Ulrich an incredulous stare.
“Well... perhaps not cows, but -”
“Humans,” Lars said and finished Ulrich’s sentence. They all fell silent for a moment to contemplate the ramifications of such a prospect. “But we’ve only been awake for a week by now, so it could only have been someone from your staff doing some unauthorised population regulation,” Lars said in a tone to suppress the matter. He was, after all, the captain of security and any failures in keeping anyone or anything safe around here would be his responsibility.
“I trust my people as I would my children. There must be a stowaway on board,” Osborne said detachedly.
“Now listen here,” Lars said, his voice rising in volume from anger. “We swept the entire ship before departure, and all transport ships were thoroughly screened. There’s no way anyone could have snuck into the ship.”
Ulrich placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Mr Osborne, we’ll be sure to go the whole ship through, but I can guarantee that there is no one on board who shouldn’t be.”
Osborne looked first at Ulrich, then at Lars with his purple glasses, before deciding that there was nothing to be gained from pursuing the subject further and returned to the heavens with his skywards glance. Lars was feeling hot under the collar but knew better than to antagonise the people he was supposed to protect. He turned around and walked as dignified as he could muster with Ulrich catching up to him.
“What the Hell, man? You’re as uptight as ever,” Ulrich said in an unpleasantly surprised tone. He was right, of course, and Lars took a deep breath to regain his posture.
“I want a full status report ASAP, you hear? I want to know about every little crack, every little complaint, I don’t care, big or small, have it on my desk by the end of the week.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Ulrich responded and gave a half-hearted gesture. “Why don’t we have a drink together once I’ve assembled the men?”
“This ship has been abandoned for three years until one week ago, with only robots to do the maintenance,” Lars said, his knuckles whitening from clenching his fists so tight. “You and I will help check the rest of the domes and the cargo hold and the machine room. I want a full inspection and every available man out and about. If there is indeed a stowaway on my ship, then I want him found.”
Ulrich grunted in dismay but relayed the orders to the men via a little green button stuck to his neck. The ship had never seen so much activity since its construction was completed. The purple-clad officers of security were busy scouring every inch and every surface for possible hideouts and all crates and barrels were tested.
The stress was getting to Lars who only had a bite of an apple to eat since he awoke from his long slumber. He was beginning to feel some after-effects from the extended sleep and he was sweating and panting as if feverish by the time they reached the cargo hold. His vision was swimming and he could only stand with the help of a crate. Fortunately, one of the men had brought a food bar which he accepted. It helped him regain at least some of balance.
The cargo bay was a small area at the bottom of the ship which warranted its position as the last to be checked. The walls were unpainted here and displayed the grey metallic colour all the walls would have underneath their coating. Metal crates were stacked high towards the ceiling right from when you got off the bubble and it was a maze navigating between them. Someone could easily have hid here, were it not for the security system. Via cameras in the ceiling, one could easily get an overlook of the area from a monitor on the wall. Robots not only patrolled here, they were also designed to pick up crates and bring them to the front of the room.
A few hours had gone by at this point and everyone on board the PC Mournheld had been checked. No one out of the 206 man crew was missing, no additional individuals had turned up and no imposters had been discovered. Lars was satisfied, if a little tired, with how effective his unit was and he was relieved to find no illegals. Still, if the chickens had been slaughtered and the provisions eaten not by an outside force, it could only have been one from the staff. He decided to shake it off and leave that speculation for when he felt better. Now he just wanted to check out and get some rest.
It was just then that had he saw something pink flutter just outside of the periphery of his vision. He had thought at first it must’ve been someone’s uniform, but when he saw it again, it resembled cotton candy. He blinked, and it was gone in between the crates. He looked around but no one else looked like they had seen anything.
He excused himself from the search party and went the maze. No one had bothered going deep into the room when it was all displayed on the screen, but he kept seeing that pink fluffy thing wiggling at him. Every time he rounded a corner, there it was again at the end, going down another corridor between the boxes and crates. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that he was seeing, but it was like bait on a hook to a fish. In the end, however, nothing was caught; neither Lars nor the thing he had thought he had seen. He ended his fruitless endeavour in a dead end.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” Ulrich asked. Lars looked around for a moment, hopeful that his second in command had followed him and seen it too, but he was just speaking through the green button on the inside of his collar.
“Just thought I saw something,” Lars mumbled. Whatever he had seen, it had disappeared again.
“Well you better come back out of there. Stand back, I’m sending a robot in there to pick you up”
An oversized black trash can soon hovered in between the spaces between metal crates and metal ceiling and scooped him up in its retractable arms and carried him back to the bubble. The rest of the team had disbanded and only Ulrich was left waiting for him.
“Find anything?” Ulrich asked with his arms in his sides.
“No. Just my overworked mind playing tricks on me,” Lars said as the robot released him. “I think I better call it a night for now”
***
He had gotten something to eat, a delicious meal consisting of meat sauce and pasta with cheese and a glass of water, and was now sitting by his desk, relaxing and trying to gather his thoughts. He was tired, exhausted even, but he had just eaten and wanted to digest it first. His dreams would always drift far away into the lands of the unimaginable if he slept on too full a stomach.
He took the green button from his collar, twisted the ends and pulled them apart to reveal a green cylinder. The design had not changed in a long time, but the improved material had allowed for better storage and durability. Another twist of the ends revealed both a screen and a keyboard. Lars placed it on his desk and closed his eyes, his fingers hovering on the light keys. What would you tell yourself and where would you start?
16 days, 3 months and 1,986 years after the war (16 February 4072 AD)
My name is Lars Leland, head of security aboard the PC Mournheld. I, along with my oldest friend and second-in-command, Ulrich Pendragon, must ensure the safety of everyone here, from the mechanics to the scientists. We’re only fifty security officers, us included, but it should be sufficient for the task that lies ahead of us, a grave one indeed.
We are testing the chances of colonising space, since Earth will soon be uninhabitable. A strange disease called the Crimson Plague has begun to spread, at first killing the weak and the old. Vaccines with a 0.05% success rate are all that we have accomplished in the past century and we have no choice but to look at the stars. I’ve left my wife Charlotte and my newborn daughter Diane for man’s last-ditch attempt at survival. It’s taken forty years and just as many billion dollars to make, but this is it; the final collaborations between the five nations of the world.
“You’re actually doing this?” Ulrich said from behind Lars. He had not even heard him come in. “Kinda gloomy.”
“The therapist ordered us to do this, remember?” Lars said. “I hope you’re working on yours as well; you know how pissed Doctor Burton can get.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Ulrich said and waved his hand to dismiss the matter. “Speaking of doctors, did you check in with Wendy yet?”
“I’m not feeling it today. I’m still a little woozy, but I’ll do it tomorrow,” Lars responded and tried to sound like nothing was wrong. He decided that that had to be enough writing for the day, so he folded the computer back into a button and re-attached it to his collar.
“I know you always push your health back in the queue, but you just awoke from an extended cryostasis. A little check-up wouldn’t hurt,” Ulrich said. “Well, you’d best get some sleep then and make it your first priority when you awake”
“What’s the time down on Earth?” Lars asked and got up from his seat.
“Why, it’s... around 9 in the evening,” Ulrich responded.
“Wake me bright and early then. I’m not sure I trust this little thing to do the job,” Lars said, referring to the computer button, and went over to his pod. It was designed to sustain life under low temperatures, but was comfortable enough to double as an ordinary bed.
“I’m not your damn maid, just attach it your neck!” Ulrich said jovially.
“Nah, it always makes me itch. Just around seven, if you please.” He went inside the chamber and closed the hatch. That was the end of that discussion.
He couldn’t remember having had a dream for all his time asleep, so he was looking forward to his first one in three years. He was back on earth again with his family; Charlotte with her orange curly hair and Diane with shoulder-length blonde hair. In his mind, he lived through the life he could have had, watching his daughter grow up and giving her a brother to play with.
It wasn’t something he was willing to wake up from. He tried desperately to clutch at the dream, even as his name reverberated throughout the halls of his mind. It was not the voice of his wife or of his children nor even that of Ulrich, but the voice of a man he faintly remembered from his security team. Lars squinted and stared up into the face of a man older than himself, a man with curly black hair. He had a surly and not all too sober grimace.
“Captain... Lars Leland, please wake up sir,” the man insisted. He had already opened the hatch and decided to shake Lars back among the living. He tried to push away the stench of alcohol and the wrinkly features, but he was back on the Mournheld. There was no going back from here.
“What do you want, Gary?” Lars said and rubbed his eyes.
“There’s been a murder, sir.”
It took Lars a few moments to realise what Gary had said. He still felt drowsy and heavy in his head. Postponing his doctor’s appointment might not have been such a good idea, and neither was sitting bolt upright. Stars twinkled before his eyes for a moment and he grabbed his head, trying to get in control of his vision once more.
“You all right, sir?” Gary asked concernedly and held his superior office by the shoulders.
“There’s been a murder?” Lars asked to see if he had heard right, not wanting to bother going into the details of how badly he felt right now.
“Yes, sir. Doctor Burton, the therapist.”
“Lead the way, soldier,” Lars said and crept out of his pod with a little help from Gary. Once he was safely down, Lars grabbed a hold of Gary’s shoulder with his left hand and clutched his head with the right.
“You sure you should be standing?” Gary asked.
“It’s nothing, just a slight headache from waking up,” Lars replied.
“Well, Doctor Williamson is already on the scene along with some of the security officers. I’m sure she has something for your headache.”
Lars assured himself it was just cryostasis fatigue and nothing more serious. There was one thing he knew it could be, but he did not want to contemplate such an option. Fortunately, Dr Burton’s office was placed in the same sector as the security force, further down on the left from Lars’ room. It would probably be unwise to use that gut-wrenching bubble for transport in his condition. Still, the corridor had chosen to bounce all over the place.
“Is Ulrich there?” Lars asked, once he made sure opening his mouth wouldn’t make him spill the contents of his stomach.
“No sir, SIC Ulrich has not responded to our calls. We suspect he might be off eating somewhere.”
“Heh,” Lars said and chuckled weakly to himself. “That sounds like him. So, why did they make you go fetch me?”
Gary didn’t respond at first and looked away. “I was having a drink with Doctor Burton just prior to his demise.”
“For God’s sake Gary, I didn’t bring you here so you could get drunk off your ass.” The sudden agitation upset his stomach which forced him to play it cool for now.
“And I told you not to bring me. Being locked away in this giant tin box millions of miles away from home... it doesn’t sit right with me. Doctor Burton recommended I’d have a drink with him if I promised only to do it in his presence,” Gary replied defensively.
“I brought you because you were a fine soldier, Gary, and you still are. Anyone but me would have fired you a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t let you down again.”
That was not the first time Gary had said that, and it wouldn’t be the last. Lars wanted to say something along those lines, but his vision and his limbs completely failed him now. He fell forward into the black, painful void of nothingness and drifted on a sea of stabbing, searing needles for what seemed like an eternity of agony.
When he regained consciousness, it was at least to the beautiful face of Doctor Wendy Williamson. Her white hair, smooth as silk, drifted down her shoulders and accentuated the feminine grace about her that was quickly lost in her mannerisms and speech. She was dressed in the white coats of the scientists, opened to reveal a blue top that showed much of her ample cleavage.
“Feeling better?” she asked and took a step back when she had assured that he was coming around again.
He felt sticky around his mouth where fresh vomit still lingered, he felt his head ache slightly less worse and he felt like his hands and feet had been filled with lead. He took a look around him, not sure where he was. The light from overhead consumed his tired vision and only Wendy stood out clearly enough for him to discern.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said and wiped the cold sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone, you stupid git?” Wendy asked angrily.
“About?” Lars asked innocently, unsure what she could possibly mean.
“You have the Crimson Plague!”
He clambered up on his feet with the wall as support, slowly getting his bearings again. “I would have missed my chance on going on this mission if I had told anyone. Besides, it’s no big deal. It only kills the weak and the old, right?”
“That’s not the problem here!” she said, half-shouting and stomping her feet in anger. “The very reason we’re up here is because of that disease!”
“It can’t transfer from humans to humans though,” he replied in defence.
“Did you even consider for a moment what would happen if you died?” she asked angrily. He looked at her mournfully, and she began to understand. “So that’s it. You didn’t want your family to know you were ill, so you travelled away from them... Oh you incredibly foolish idiot!”
“Ulrich can easily take over my duties in the worst case scenario. Just lay it on me straight,” Lars said and took to his head. It was still pounding slightly, but he was definitely nowhere near collapsing again.
He could also see now that he was leaning up against a holo-poster of bass. He had been brought to an office of some sort, a somewhat small but homely room with a desk opposite the door where a computer and a small statuette of a war hero stood. Whoever lived here had been a music lover, and beside the poster of a bass, that someone also had one of a guitar on the left side of the door.
“Your time sleeping awakened the disease to an extent. Your young age, however, means that your body is fighting it with all that it has. You could experience more blackouts like that one if you get your blood pressure too high. You should change these patches weekly for a month and then take one whenever you feel the floor disappearing.”
Lars accepted a small roll of what looked like band-aid. He could already feel one attached to his neck, and the instant desire to scratch it off.
“Any chance I could get that in pill form?” he asked.
“We abandoned pills for a reason,” she said affronted and gave him a frown.
“Sorry. I’ve just never gotten used to have things applied to my skin,” he said and subconsciously began to scratch at the patch. She slapped him hard on his hand.
“I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps you’d be interested in the murder that happened?”
He had almost put that out of his mind completely and when Wendy stepped aside, he saw that he had been brought to the office of Dr Burton. Various musical knickknack and assorted memorabilia had been spread out over the floor and the bookcase they had been standing on had been toppled over.
Burton himself was now lying underneath it; only his face, feet and hands visible. His torso and lower body, on the other hand, had been squished underneath the heavy metal frame and it looked like he had died quite painfully. There was surprisingly little blood at the scene, most of it pooled under his head and matting his long curly blonde hair. He was a young man, late twenties if memory served Lars right. This was no way for anyone to go.
“What happened here?” Lars asked and went over to the bookcase, careful not to step on any of the figurines or shards of pottery. “An accident?”
“Well, I haven’t been able to examine the body yet since I need you to release the scene,” Wendy said and came up behind him. “I can safely say though that this poor man was murdered.”
“What makes you so sure?” Lars asked and squatted down next to Dr Burton. He stared back at Lars with lifeless eyes.
“He suffered a blow to the head shortly before his fateful encounter with the bookshelf here. Moreover, all furniture here is securely fastened to walls and floor. Someone would have to remove or destroy the bolting before any bookcase tipping could be done,” Wendy said and shoved her hands into her pockets.
Lars got up again and examined the back plate of the murder weapon. The ending of two metal rods poked out, and the wall they had been placed in still contained their holders. Someone had taken something like a small thermal lance and wedged it behind the shelves and severed them. A small thermal lance or an energy weapon cranked up to full intensity. Why go to this length, though? If the killer had the opportunity to whack Dr Burton over the head and had access to tools or weapons, why the bookcase? A symbolic meaning perhaps?
“What could drive someone to kill in this way?” Lars asked and touched the rods. They had been crudely melted, but were smooth at the ends.
“Hard to say. Perhaps I’ll know more once I get him on my slab.”
“Well, you’re welcome to take him off my hands.”
She called to the guards that was posted outside the doors and two people in deep purple suits marched in and helped lift the heavy bookcase right side up again. Doctor Burton was not a pretty sight anymore and a small figurine was lodged near his sternum. Plenty of other trinkets were sprawled over his abdomen and all around him, some of them compressed against him by the shelves and the frame.
“I had hoped this wouldn’t be necessary,” Wendy said as she watched the officers lift the corpse up on a small trolley. Lars went over to the desk to give them space. “16 years with healthy people in perfect condition and no deaths is not too much to ask, is it?”
“I... can’t say, Dr Williamson. I want the report on him when you’re done. And check if he was inebriated prior to his death.”
“Yes, I heard he might have been drinking with one of your men.”
“Exactly.”
Wendy nodded and walked with the men out of the room, leaving Lars alone with a small pool of blood. A young officer, who had been politely waiting outside, entered when she was sure Lars was done with the examination and now stood where Lars had been sitting, hands closely knitted in front of her. She had a tall, slim face with long, black hair down her uniform. She jumped slightly when Lars addressed her and quickly flustered to assume the appropriate gesture of fist under chin.
“At ease, soldier,” he said, humoured by how intimidated she was of his status. “You were first on scene?”
“Y-yes sir!” she said excited and stood rigid in her position, starring off into the distance, forgetting she had been ordered to stand at ease.
“I expect your statement to be on my computer before day’s over, Kim.”
She was young, perhaps one of his youngest officers on board, but she had showed great promise. Her performance anxiety must have compelled her to come speak with Dr Burton, only to find him crushed on the floor. She was taking it relatively well, although she was shaking quite badly. She was not one to forget protocols like a certain second-in-command, so it would be safe to leave her in the room without reminding her of her duties to oversee the cleaning.
Lars wasn’t ready to leave the case and sit around waiting for the reports just yet. He was a hands-on kind of man and had always wanted to do the work for himself. Many others in his position acted only as supervisors and allowed their inferior officers to do all the work, as they were rightfully entitled to. But Lars wanted to make sure whether this was murder or not, and there was only one who could assuage his doubts.
A throng of people had gathered outside the therapist’s room, some of them the mechanics employed here. He especially recognised a tall dark man with a small dense afro of black hair standing in front of a ragged group of rough-looking people, all dressed in yellow jackets and black pants. Their yellow headquarters was located at the other end of the ship so they had come a long way for a murder.
“Hey copper, I heard there’s been a murder,” the dark-skinned man said.
“I can’t confirm or deny that at the moment, Phil. I need to know if the furniture here could get loose on its own”
“Man, what is this?” Phil said and threw his arms in the air. The people behind him chuckled. “You trying to blame us? Think it’s impressive you know the names of all the people onboard?”
“Just answer the question,” Lars said a little firmer than he cared for. He always had trouble keeping his temper in check, but he tried his best.
“No,” Phil answered curtly. “Me and the boys went over every inch of this place to make sure everything was in order. If anyone could have killed the therapist, it would be one of you guys.”
“And what do you mean by that?” Lars asked in a threatening tone. The two men were having a fight with their eyes, to see whose stare was the deadliest. A small crowd was forming around them, not just mechanics, but scientists as well, all curious what the raised voices were about.
“You’re the guys with the guns, with the training. You know how to kill, and you know how to cover it up.” The men around Phil shared his hard stare. They were all thinking the same, and the people milling around them began as well.
“I might be a soldier, son, but that doesn’t mean I’m accustomed to killing.” Lars voice was getting dangerously loud and threatening. “You think you know how it’s like to kill someone till you actually do. The regret will gnaw at you in your dreams and the guilt will stab you when you’re awake. It’s never enough to just pull the trigger. You have to make up with yourself why this person has to die and you have to live. Not even a beast kills for the kill itself.”
“Lars... Lars, goddammit, calm down.” A pair arms came from behind him and up under his armpits. He had been just moments away from totally flying off the handle had it not been for his old buddy, Ulrich. People were giving him strange glances, and he flushed at the embarrassment. He pushed his way through the mob with Ulrich just in his heels.
***
“What was that all about?” Ulrich asked when they finally settled down in the canteen. Lars had not said a single word during the whole trip and had stormed off several paces ahead of his friend. He had shut everything off to get his emotions, and thoughts, under control.
“If you had come to the scene as you should, you would know,” Lars said and poked his mashed potato unenthusiastically. He was starved, but his concentration lost. “There’s been a death only a week after we woke up and now everyone thinks it’s the work of the security force.”
“Let them,” Ulrich said in a casual tone. “They’re still a little paranoid from the scare you gave them yesterday. We didn’t find a stowaway, so it couldn’t be a murder. The bookcase couldn’t have toppled over its own, so it can’t be accident. Just leaves suicide. A young man realises he’ll never get back to Earth, and rather than be trapped up in space forever, he does something irrational and offs himself. Case closed.”
Lars gave him a disbelieving glance. Ulrich would hopefully change his opinion once he found out the details of the death. “And where were you?” Lars asked with his mouth full of potato, pointing his fork accusingly at Ulrich.
“Ah, we experienced some turbulence earlier so I cut myself rather badly while shaving. See?” There certainly was a deep red gash along his left cheek. Both of them were now clean and smooth which left only a circle of red hair around his mouth and a tuft on his chin.
“Turbulence? We should be in a relatively safe part of space,” Lars said and lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, the eggheads said they might have found a miniature black hole not far from our position.”
Lars snorted. “A miniature black hole? Why would the scientists down on Earth plot a course that would lead us near a black hole?”
“Well it IS called black for a reason, Lars. Relax, it’s too small to harm us directly. We’re just experiencing some pulse waves or space debris or something.”
“Hm. Just be more careful, Ulrich, all right? I doubt Dr Burton committed suicide, but we still have someone out there who slaughtered all the chicken and ate of our storage. I need all my men in fighting condition. Don’t go slicing your own throat”
***
I have not been writing in my diary for a month now. The death of Dr Burton discouraged me somewhat, but recent incidents have made me question my own sanity. The Crimson Plague kills by draining the victim’s strength until you’re too tired to do anything but wither and die. Hallucinations have not been described as a symptom yet and what I have seen is too bizarre to be real. Maybe if I write down my thoughts I’ll see how bad my condition really is.
Lars was humming to himself as he strolled around the kitchen. He was in a good mood today. Not a single death for a whole month and he could finally stop wearing those god-awful patches. It had been Hell to keep himself from scratching AND he now had a whole jar full of pills in a pocket under his one-piece uniform. It was time to celebrate in the best manner possible; baking.
All you had to do was to take a cup of flour and add it to the mix. Now just take a little something sweet, not sour and.... something else. He wasn’t even sure where he had picked that song up, but it was a silly little melody that fitted his mood perfectly.
The kitchen in the security section canteen was, like all other canteens in the ship, separated from the sitting area by a low wall where people would grab their meal and then go back to their seat. Although the process of making food had been simplified over the years and demanded few machines to do it all, Lars was only too happy using the older tools that he was more familiar with.
It had been a while since had last baked, but he had spent most of that time frozen. It all came to him naturally, even spinning the form plate on his finger. The second batch was better than the first, and the third was simply divine. The whole kitchen was smothered with dough when he was finally done, but it was worth it. Even a head of security could allow himself a few hours of frivolous activity, especially with how quiet things were. He placed the last platter of muffins on the counter, just as Ulrich entered.
“Are you sure Butler will enjoy you using his kitchen in such a carefree manner?” he asked and chuckled as he went through the room and directly for the kitchen.
“I’ve already asked the old geezer, chum. Besides, I agreed with James and Osborne to test their latest harvest,” Lars said and wiped his brow and only managed to smear more of the thick mass all over his face. It was a good thing that he had the foresight to wear one of his old, worn uniforms.
“I didn’t know you could bake, much less muffins?” Ulrich said and took one. He chewed carefully to see if this was an attempt to poison him, but his gleeful expression told Lars that he had succeeded.
“Charlotte was always hungry for ‘em when she was pregnant and I got tired of having to go to the store in the middle of night,” Lars said and took one for himself.
“Charlotte? Your wife? But she’s always hated muffins.”
“It’s what the baby wanted. I think she got a little too round, but no arguing with a pregnant woman.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Ulrich said and his cheerful expression was, for just the slightest of a moment, hidden behind a sad mask. “I’ve never been able to find me the perfect woman like you did,” he said and gave a boisterous laugh.
“Well, how about I clean up this mess and then we can go on patrol?” Lars asked.
“Why bother? I can have several of the rookies down here to do it for you.”
“Thanks, but it wouldn’t sit right with me,” Lars said and turned his attention back towards the kitchen. So many appliances, many of which he knew nothing about. To get the best taste however, you had to do it from the bottom. None of these instant meal machines where you just had to feed it the ingredients and tell it what you wanted and hey presto! The old methods did tend to leave everything everywhere, probably why Butler had been reluctant at first.
Lars was just about to grab another muffin when he paused. “We both agree this 24 plate was full, right?” Lars asked.
“Ah, probably, I didn’t notice,” Ulrich said and inspected it.
“But there are only 16 now... you ate one and I ate one, meaning that there should be 22.”
“You probably just ran out of materials on your third try and filled it up only mostly,” Ulrich said and grabbed another one of the delicious treats. Lars gave him a serious glance. “What? You don’t expect me to believe a chicken slaughterer converts to muffin stealing?”
“I guess not,” Lars said. “You know what, call on some of the men and have them clean the kitchen. If they find any traces of anyone having been here, have them call me.” Lars grabbed the plate with the remaining fifteen muffins and darted out of the room.
“Lars! How could he have stolen the muffins and left again unnoticed? Through the air vents? Are you telling me our thief is a foetus? ‘Cause that’s how small he would have had to be! Lars?”
Ulrich still wasn’t too concerned about any madmen being onboard and had dismissed the death of Dr Burton entirely as a suicide despite evidence to the contrary. He was either too trusting or.... hiding something? Lars shook his head at the notion. Ulrich was the most trustworthy man he knew after all.
Perhaps Lars was going slightly off the deep end, but if he could lure their potential stowaway out of his hiding with muffins, then so be it. The poor man was probably starving. Whoever their stowaway was, he had had the whole ship to himself for three years, stealing provisions and feeding off the animals completely unnoticed. But now his hiding places and his options for sustenance had been severely limited. If someone was hiding somewhere, he was about to go crazy from the lack of food. The rich smell of muffins must have been too good for him to resist.
The conference room had been unused for days and lay in a quiet part of the ship. Whenever Lars had something to say or when he wanted a report, he would call his men to this room to gather the troops. It was an otherwise empty room with just a long table and some chairs. The most unique feature was the rug that had been placed over the floor, something not seen otherwise on the ship.
Lars placed the tray on the table and quickly hid behind one of the chairs. It was his job to ensure the safety of everyone aboard by whatever means necessary. Even if that meant having to do some seemingly mad things like this.
He peeked over the back of the chair, hoping for some activity soon. He had to shoo one of his security boys away who was tempted enough by the muffins to enter. The man was surprised to see his captain down on his knees with only the top of his head visible and quickly left with a little grin.
Ten boring minutes went by without anything happening at all. His knees could not handle the pressure anymore and he finally gave up and leant up against the sleek metal wall. He massaged his kneecaps and closed his eyes for just a moment, enjoying the silence in his little corner of the room.
Once again, he had worked himself up an unnecessary sweat and he was doing the exact opposite of what the doctor had told him to shy away from. What was he thinking getting worked up about a few missing muffins? Honestly, he couldn’t even remember how many he had made. 24? 22? Did it even matter? He was about to call it quits when he heard someone, or something, moving the metal tray around.
He sat quietly behind the chair unable to see what was making the noise and trying intently to assess the situation. Damn. He would have heard the first signs of warning if the floors hadn’t been so thickly carpeted. He had no choice but to go down on all fours and stealthily moved across the floor and just hope that the culprit wasn’t one of his men. All he could see was a pair of grey legs and a grey body from his vantage point, clothing that was highly unusual on the spaceship. Finally the chicken slaughterer revealed himself.
The man was deeply engrossed in the muffins and ate them loudly, so it was easy for Lars to sneak around the table. He jumped up, intending to take the fellow by surprise. The surprise, however, was on him. It was not a man at all who was busily munching on his baked goods, nor a male anything at all.
Before him stood a horse, little over half his height, with its front hooves on the table and its face planted in the muffins. It gave him a surprised, cross-eyed look and Lars took a step back and fell against the wall. The world was suddenly spinning before his eyes again and he could feel another blackout coming on. He quickly fished out one of the pills and swallowed it. He was starting to hallucinate worse and worse. First flying candyfloss and now... a pony? It would all just go away in a minute once the pill had been digested, but no. The pony was still there, walking over to him with a worried expression.
She was a fine mare with a glistening grey coat, a short blonde mane with a tail in the same colour and... wings? She also had, for some reason, bubbles tattooed on her haunch. Her whole face was covered with crumbs and she looked eerily human.
“You okay, sir?” she asked a bit loudly.
“You’re... real then?” he asked, to which the mare nodded, happy to see that the man was okay. Just to confirm, he gently stroked her face. “You’re the one who ate my muffins?” She nodded again. “And did you kill our therapist as well?”
“No,” she replied and shook her head and stood, looking to both sides with a scrunchy expression.
“Do you have a name?” he asked. The pill was starting to work and for the next few minutes, Lars would be visiting la-la land. The medicine not only alleviated his symptoms, it also filled him shortly with serenity, inner peace and giddiness. In his state, he would not doubt a vision like this.
“Ditzy Doo!” she replied happily. “But all my friends just call me Derpy.”
“No kidding?” he replied and chortled. “I’m Lars Leland and I’m head of security here. Have you seen anyone suspicious onboard?”
“No,” she responded and shook her head.
“Well I can’t exactly say I have ever seen a talking horse before. Amazing,” he mused and got up on his feet again.
“Thanks for the muffins,” she said happily and placed one on top of her head. He thought for sure it would fall off quickly, but she was astoundingly well-balanced. Her smile quickly turned to worry. “I’m not really supposed to talk with anyone,” she said and turned around to leave.
“No please, tell me, where are you from? H-how did you get here?”
“I can’t talk about Ponyville either,” she replied and went out of the door. Lars quickly ran after her, but she had vanished just by turning the corner, and he bumped into Ulrich instead, nearly knocking both of them down. Lars grabbed his friends by the shoulders.
“Hey Ulrich! Did you see it? Did you see the talking pony?” he asked with a merry laughter. Lars stared at him curiously, but quickly noticed the empty tray with muffins. He smirked slightly at his friend.
“Okay, buddy, I think you’ve had enough,” Ulrich said and parked his friend on a chair inside the conference room. “Sugar and medicine obviously don’t mix.”
“What?” he replied and looked at the room. The mystery horse was gone, if she had ever been real, but the mess she had made was undeniable. “No! No, I didn’t do this! It was the pony... Ditsy Doo.”
“I’ve rarely seen you so upbeat, Lars. It’s starting to unnerve me,” Ulrich said.
He was right, Lars would never let himself go like this and his face was soon flushed with embarrassment. He must’ve gotten pretty agitated in all the excitement of meeting a speaking, winged equine. No, that had to have been another symptom, not the cause. He had come in here, eaten the muffins and then had another blackout. Or had he fallen asleep while hiding and then someone had come in and then eaten them?
“I’m fine,” Lars said and returned slowly returned to his old self. “Sorry if I made you worry, guess I got a little too carried away with baking and remembering and all. I’d better take what’s left to Ronnie; I promised him that he could taste the results.”
“Why don’t I handle that?” Ulrich said and wiped his nose with a finger. “I’m going on my route soon and I’ll be by Bio-dome 01 in ten minutes.”
“I might as well. I could do with the walk.”
Lars got up and took the tray with him as he went for the bubble. What he had seen was too absurd to be anything but a doped brain at work and he felt foolish for having actually believed what he had experienced. It was his longing for his wife and daughter, bringing back with it distressed memories, which had gotten him so excited. The pills hadn’t exactly helped either.
The bumpy ride cleared up his head better than fresh air could, which was good since there wasn’t any available. He had the muffins tugged inside his uniform during the whole ride and held on to the lump for dear life. The bubble roared forth and stopped only seconds later and Lars toppled out, slightly nauseous from the ride.
He entered the office overlooking the dome and placed the platter on the table beneath the window. You could sit here and enjoy your lunch and look down at the crops and all the people and machines toiling over the demanding soil or watch as workers picked off fruit from the trees.
Ronnie was nowhere to seen. He would usually be up here, supervising from his vantage point or sampling the fruits of their labour. A half-eaten apple was still placed on the table.
“Dr James? Dr James! Ronnie?” Lars called out, but to no avail. He might have gone down into the bio-dome and then how was Lars supposed to find him? He still had another two batches of delicious treats, but he would have preferred Ronnie to taste the best of them. Leaving these muffins here was sure to attract the attention of others. Lars sighed at how bothersome this day had become and turned to leave, when he heard a slight moan on the left.
He quickly turned his head to see what could be making that sound when he noticed that the door to a side room was open. A white shoe was sticking out, still attached to its owner’s foot, somewhat hidden by the darkness inside. Lars quickly rushed into the room and turned on the lights, hoping against hope that he was not about to see what he feared he would.
The once so formidable Dr James lay on his side, dead, his hand clutching his stomach and his face contorted in pain. Lars rushed to his side and turned him on his back, but he was gone. The moan he had heard had been a slight death rattle as his good spirit left this mortal world. His fingernails had turned blue and he had foam at his mouth; couple that with his agonised expression and you would get poison. Dr James must have realised this himself and quickly entered this side room and tried to contact someone, anyone, but expired just short of reaching the table where he had placed his computer.
There was nothing Lars could do for him and he went over to the green cylinder. Ronnie had been writing down notes and expressed his thoughts when he had been interrupted. The last entry was dated only minutes ago. The apple out in the lobby must’ve been how the poison got introduced, which must mean that the culprit couldn’t be far away. Lars was closer now to catching his supposed criminal than he had ever been. He tore through the opening and sprinted into the main room, looking up and down.
The lobby was not a big room and worked mostly as an observation post. There were five doors in here. One was the entrance from which Lars had come from, and since he hadn’t encountered anyone on his way here, the perp could not have escaped. The door on the right lead to a bathroom and the one on the left was the office of Dr James. The last two doors were placed on either side of the central window and lead to scaffolding that encircled the walls which was equipped with stairs to the ground floor of the dome.
There were no one out on the catwalk, so the killer could only have escaped into the bio-dome itself, hoping to lose his pursuers amongst some of the dense foliage. Perhaps he even lived down there and had been hiding until Ronnie had found him or stumbled upon something that would lead to his discovery.
It was only minutes ago since Lars had swallowed the pill, but the calming effect was wearing off. He once again felt his anger boiling his blood as he ran down the stairs to the ground floor, hoping to see any suspicious activity from up above. The dome was enormous and he could search blindly for years without ever covering the entire area, but he could not let that deter him. He would find this blemish on his reputation, and the killer only had a few minute’s advantage. It could be any of the workers, or perhaps he had just poisoned an apple and hoped it would be brought before Ronnie’s attention.
He ran across the grass-covered ground, scanning his surroundings rapidly. Small dirt paths diverged from this central circle and snaked their ways in all directions. Lars was unsure which one to take and furiously looked the paths up and down. Some led to the trees, others to the fields. Curious gardeners and scientists, all dressed in their white lab coats, observed him with alarm. None of them were yet privy to the murder that had just occurred and were left to wonder what had riled the head of security up like this.
A large hand placed itself on his shoulder and Lars turned to see the face of his second in command.
“Whoa, easy,” Ulrich said. “What’s going on? One of the workers giving you a bad apple?”
“Something like that,” Lars replied and panted violently. He would have passed out long ago if he had not taken his medicine. “Dr James is dead,” he heaved.
“What? How! Where?”
“Poison, I think,” Lars said and wiped his mouth. “He was still fresh when I came here so I thought I might find the murderer down here.”
“Good luck. But you know, it’s weird,” Ulrich said and pondered. “I just saw Gary run away very quickly from the dome.”
“Gary? Oh God no.”
“Well, there are a lot things being produced down here that could be distilled to alcohol, with a little will and hard work. He was the last to see Dr Burton, mind you.”
“I don’t believe it,” Lars said, and together, the two went back upstairs. “Call on the security and Wendy; I want every available man on this case. Find Gary, alive, secure the premises; question the workers, the whole nine yards.”
“Of course, but what about you?” Ulrich asked nervously.
“I think I need to lie down... for just a moment or ten,” Lars panted.
We did not find Gary. I don’t know whether he’s hiding in one of the domes or somewhere in the heart of the machinery, but I have upped the security level. It was a risk I had to take, now that there was no doubt anymore of murder. The whole ship is on pins and needles and I can’t say I blame them. I refuse to believe Gary is involved in this in any way, but it sounds like he might know something. I have to find him and question him, but if I didn’t know better, I’d almost say he’s running from the real killer.
Introduction part 2: Security Guard With A Grievance
The mission was not going well at this point. I was having trouble keeping the crew calm, and my periodic hallucinations weren’t helping matters. I was chosen to be captain of security for my exemplary military service and two previous trips into space, but I had no previous experience handling civilians. I learned just how differently soldiers think in contrast to civilians. We had not found Gary yet although he was running out of places to hide. The scientists hadn’t been helpful and mostly kept to themselves, whereas the maintenance crew had been downright obstructing our affairs. I feared that they might be hiding things from me.
TRIBULATION CHAPTER 2: SECURITY GUARD WITH A GRIEVANCE
Lars Leland was a well-built man, muscled and also rather short, always with a cleanly shaved face and neatly trimmed, blonde hair. A man of just 34, he already had several accomplishments under his belt which had earned him the spot as head of security for the spaceship PC Mournheld. His responsibility was securing the lives of 205 men and women; scientists, soldiers and mechanics.
But he wasn’t alone up here in the vast expanses of the sky. With him was also his oldest friend, Ulrich Pendragon, just a year older than Lars. Taller and faster, Ulrich is a bit more haggard to look at with messy red hair and a small beard that covered his mouth. He had recently begun to shave his cheeks to display the cut on his left cheek. Originally a simple shaving accident, the wound had settled as a scar and the stories of how he had gotten it grew ever more imaginative.
“This is the life, eh?” Ulrich said and slipped his naked form into the large, bubbling tub. “Everyone else is doing patrol or working, but the two of us can do just as we please.”
“Mmm,” Lars said, not quite listening. He was trying to relax, but he had way too many things on his mind. Even now, sitting in this warm water and bathing all the grime from his body, he could not release his duties as a security officer.
“Come on, old pal, relax,” Ulrich said and slapped his friend on the back, nearly sending his friend nose first into the water. “It’s been two weeks already. Gary don’t have a whole lot of other places to hide in, we’ll find him.”
“I still don’t think he’s the killer.”
“Who would you rather think the killer is? Dr Williamson? Or Private Kim?” Ulrich said the last part with a grin and nudged Lars. “I bet you wouldn’t mind searching her cavities for concealed weapons.”
“I’d rather not think it about any of the people onboard,” Lars said and sighed, leaning back against the wall and rested his head, starring up into the ceiling. “I wonder how they’re doing down on the Earth. A whole month gone by and still no word.”
“I’m certain they’re all right. We were warned that contact with Earth might be impossible.”
“Well you can’t blame me for wanting to get into contact with my family?”
Ulrich gave a disgruntled grunt, but eventually nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t have left Charlotte for anything in the world, you know. I never understood why you chose this mission instead of staying home and watch your daughter grow up.”
Lars still hadn’t told him; in fact, only Wendy knew besides himself. Lars was afflicted with the Crimson Plague, an epidemic that had ravaged mankind and for which no cure was known. It only killed the weak and the old and a man as strong and vigorous as Lars would not experience the tiredness and fatigue associated with it. But he was ill nonetheless, with the very disease that had forced this billion dollar spaceship into the air to research the possibilities of survival in space. He didn’t need to take any medicine yet, but stress and raised blood pressure in general would make him nauseous and faint. As far as Ulrich knew, Lars was just experiencing adverse effects from the antifreeze and some trouble from acclimatising himself to life in space.
“This is extremely important and I’m the most qualified for the job,” Lars simply replied.
“Lars Leland, the man who always put the safety and happiness of others before anything else. Striving to get a medal and a reward ceremony?” Ulrich teased.
“The future of mankind is at stake. Who wouldn’t do it with such a burden on their shoulders?”
“Certainly not me. Call me selfish all you want, but the army has plenty of qualified people.”
Lars didn’t respond. The whole conversation was ruining his mood, of which there was little left to ruin. He sank deeper into the tub so that only his face above the nose was visible, making bubbles with his mouth. It would just so happen that Kim, one of the young recruits Ulrich was wowing with his tales, entered. She wasn’t fazed by two naked men together in tub. She came from a society with a looser sexual morale and even in the heat from the water acted as professionally as expected.
“Kim McManus reporting in,” she said and put her closed right fist under her chin.
“I know who you are, Kim, at ease. What is it?” Lars asked and returned to the surface.
“Well,” she said, flustered by being addressed so casually. She was a pretty young lady of 28 with long, smooth, black hair. “Philip Leonard wants to see you, sir. He says it quite urgent.”
“I’ll be right there,” Lars replied, but he was firmly shoved back into the water.
“Not so fast,” Ulrich said. “You just got in!”
“But I’ve been trying to get that weasel to talk with me ever since Gary went missing. This is important.”
“And allow him to think that we dance just because he starts singing? I say let him cook for a bit. Tell him to wait or leave a message, we’ll get back to him.”
Kim looked at Lars, still standing in honour, waiting for the final judgement. He sighed and shrugged. “You got a point of course. Very well, as Ulrich said.”
“Y-yes, sir!” she replied enthusiastically and turned around, through the door that melted on her contact and gone.
“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about dipping your thing in that,” Ulrich said, only because he knew there was no chance of her hearing it.
“Drop it,” Lars said and disappeared completely from the surface.
***
He emerged thirty minutes later, smelling freshly of shampoo but otherwise completely dry and in his deep purple uniform and black metal boots. He was surprised to find Kim sitting in the corridor outside the unisex changing rooms, nervously clenching the purple fabric she herself was wearing. She stood up like shot from a cannon and stood in honour again. Lars chuckled to himself and wiped his mouth.
“Yes, Kim, how may I help you?” he asked.
“Philip Leonard requests meeting you, alone, in the machine room beneath the ship. He says it’s important.”
“You could’ve just left me a message,” he said.
“I realise that, sir, but it was urgent,” she replied, still without looking at him, afraid to enter eye contact with a superior.
“Very well. Did he say why?”
“No, sir, he did not, not even on my insistence.”
“All right then, guess I’ve no choice.”
Ulrich was already gone as he had patrol duty to take care of, but had insisted that Lars remained behind and enjoy the time he had left here. The spa was for everyone to use aboard the ship regardless of status. It was one of many boons that had been provided for them, but Lars definitely preferred his own shower. He had trouble unwinding and just wanted such a simple thing as bathing to be over with quickly. Still, it was nice to spend some time with his oldest friend. They had grown up together and had been thick as thieves all their life.
The spa was part of a common room in the middle section of the ship. The walls had been painted white to signify the impartiality and lack of rank in here. Everyone had equal right to use the facilities in here, not just restricted to the spa. There was also a cinema that would show movies every night, an all purpose court that could easily be redesigned for tennis or soccer or lacrosse, the national sport of Prima City, and a café.
There was only one way out of here, aside from the various emergency tunnels that would naturally only be used in case of an emergency, god forbid. The bubble used for transport around here was set into a depression in the floor and was surrounded by a metal cage that acted as the foot for a small statue. The image of John Kilburne, the greatest hero of the war nearly 2.000 years ago was placed her to inspire courage in the team and remind them that mankind had suffered greater crises and survived.
Lars took a moment to admire the statue. John Kilburne was dressed in the iconic clothing that had inspired freedom fighters for many years: tall brown leather boots, blue jeans, a white shirt, a black trench coat, dense shades; his long hair tied up into a ponytail and wielding a revolver in his left hand. Perhaps Lars’ likeness would one day be put up on a pedestal for people to gaze up at in awe and reverence.
A single bubble system would be unrealistic back in Prima City, but with a population of only some two hundred people, it hadn’t caused any problems yet. Other exits had been clearly marked if a fire erupted and people needed to evacuate quickly. There were more bubbles hidden inside the ship and were perfect shelters due to their resistance to almost any thinkable disaster. They were not hermetically sealed, however, and would prove ineffectual to sustain life in a vacuum.
People wandered round, chatting merrily and able to forget their duties for a few hours. For Lars, duty now called and he had a job to do. He was eager to finally get a chance to talk to Phil. Damn bastard had lips sealed tighter than a clam. At least you could knife a clam and pry it open.
Lars approached the bubble and announced his desire to go to the machine room far below, deep into the bowels of the ship. The spherical taxi opened a hatch and Lars climbed inside and got comfortable on a bench. The hatch closed again and the interior filled up with foam that pressed him firmly against the walls. So shock absorbent was the material that he could not even feel the bubble move as it tumbled around like a ball inside a pinball machine.
It was a roller coaster of a ride and something that commuters had to endure each and every day. Few people had access to cars anymore, only those with money or companies that needed to haul large cargo around. Of course, cars wouldn’t be feasible either when they had to exploit the space they had as sufficiently as possible.
It came to rest only seconds later. One major reason for not finding better alternatives was the old adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” It could cover America coast to coast in less than an hour and space would only be minutes away.
Lars emerged from the ship and looked not to be overall fazed by the trip. A man like him, who had grown up in Prima City, was used to a ride like that.
The machine room was inexplicably covered in black paint. One reason might be a lack of anymore colours to use or to heighten contrast to the common room. It was always hot down here, like an early day of spring where not a wind is blowing.
He was in a narrow corridor that slithered forward, with many doors that lead this way and that. The maintenance crew also lived down here, but their dormitories were fortunately cooled down lest they should perish in the heat. Other doors led to the various mechanical parts of the ship, like the engine, the power distributor and the main computer that ensured things were running optimally.
When Phil had said that he wanted to see Lars down here, he had implicitly meant near the bubble. Despite this, the place was deserted and only the hum of the machines sounded. Lars was discontented with this behaviour. When inviting someone, you had better show up at the appointed place. Granted, Lars had taken his time and Phil had his own duties to attend to, but he could have left someone here to guide him. Lars didn’t know the layout of the machine room or where Phil could possibly be.
He was about to leave and contemplated a proper reprimand when he spotted something by his feet. Lars crouched down and ran a finger through the liquid... it was blood. He looked ahead and saw that someone had been dripping as they walked towards one of the engine rooms. Whoever it was had tried to stop the bleeding by pressing hard against the wound, but was losing too much to effectively handle it without bandages.
Lars feared for the worst and quickly rushed into the engine room. Here and there, small trickles of blood adorned the stairs downwards. They were still wet, and though it could have been a worker who had cut himself on a tool, it still disturbed Lars.
The pockets of these jumpsuits blended in completely and were a good as impossible to discern at a glance. He took from one of these pockets the standard issue concussion beam blaster handed out to all the security personnel. It was shaped like a musical horn with a nozzle in one end and a sphere in the other. Turning the sphere would result in various intensities of power in the blaster and cranking it all the way up to twelve could even turn it into a welding torch at the risk of overheating and exploding.
The temperature was intensifying down here, but the all purpose jumpsuit shielded him from the brunt of it. The working uniforms of the maintenance crew was even better isolated and they were barely inconvenienced from the warmth.
Lars didn’t know exactly what the engines looked like or how they worked. The vital parts were encased with the same sturdy, protective material of the bubbles, just sprayed dark grey to match the surroundings. There were two enormous square blocks in here and plenty more in other parts of the ship.
The blood trail was leading him to the engine on the right. It stopped abruptly and Lars looked the intricate machine up and down. He knew that there were accessible points if the need arose to enter the engine and check something up, but that would normally be done by specialised robots. Still, someone could enter if they wanted to. Lars had access to all parts of the ship as his position as captain, even down here. He ran a hand across the area where the blood stopped and the hatch opened for him.
The engines were covered all around with an industrial-sized freezer to keep the temperature down. It was too cold inside for anyone to survive long in there so the engine that needed a check-up would be turned off completely before anyone ventured forth. Furthermore, there was no way to get trapped. The hatch could be opened easily from both sides. But then again, if your hands had been tied behind your back and you were bleeding from a wound on your torso, it would get much more difficult.
Phil Leonard was lying here, covered in a thick layer of ice, his position demonstrating the despair he must have gone through. He was dead, not from a loss of blood, but hypothermia. Lars quickly closed the hatch again, not because he had been rocked from the sight of it, but because of the bone-chilling frost. The blood was fresh, so whoever had been behind this had to be close by.
“Gary!” Lars bellowed angrily. “I swear to Christ, if you did this, I’ll make you pay!”
Something moved down at the end of the hall. He had been watched by someone that quickly retreated again, but Lars would not let him get away. Whoever this was had been stealing their rations, killing their livestock and now had three lives on his conscience.
Lars rounded the corner as well, but the shadow had disappeared already. Lars was not the fastest runner and was more of a confrontational guy. He hated these games and it always frustrated him how short his legs were. Still, this guy shouldn’t have disappeared like this. Perhaps into the engine? Lars ran a hand against it the smooth surface. It was quiet and was probably just a backup in case they needed more speed. Defrost the insides and you would have an excellent safe house.
The door had to be around here somewhere and Lars carefully searched the exterior with his hands. Trained mechanics would easily be able to find it, if nothing else, based on their deep understanding on how these machines worked.
Lars never did find that door, however. He never heard the person sneaking up on him, nor did he even have a chance to see his attacker. The last thing he felt was a sharp blow to the back of his neck and the rage behind it. The crude iron rod fell to the ground next to him, abandoned like he himself was. He was alone down here and no one but Kim would know he had come here.
He tried to push himself up again, but his limbs would not react. He tried to scream, but only a hoarse whisper escaped his lips. He panicked, but could not move. He had never felt so despondent before in all of his life, like a kid trapped in a well.
A pool of blood formed under his cheek. It was hot and sticky and he could feel it on his skin. The crimson colour swirled before his eyes and after just seconds of lying there, a small whirlpool had formed beneath his unmoving face. He was staring in disbelief as his blood became transparent. He could see into the pool and gazed at a wooden library beyond. Was his life passing before his eyes? It couldn’t be, he had never seen that location before.
A small purple and green dragon came into view and stared back at him with a raised eyebrow. It could actually see him.
“Twilight, an inter-dimensional portal has opened downstairs,” it called.
“What?” came the response, followed by the sound of hooves on wood. A purple unicorn with dark purple hair soon emerged and pushed the dragon aside. “Oh my gosh, you’re right... what am I looking at?” she asked.
“Help... me,” Lars whispered.
“Come again?” the unicorn asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Help... me,” Lars whispered again, but the unicorn simply shook her head.
“If you can hear me, can you tell me who you are? And what you want?” the unicorn asked.
His voice failed him completely and he was gurgling his own blood, sending a feast of bubbles rippling across the surface. He had managed to retain his consciousness for this long, but that was soon going the same way as his mobility. A pair of large hands reached under his armpits and heaved him up.
“Wait, why did you call? Hello!” the unicorn asked, but she was gone as well. The portal closed and left was only his blood and nothing more. He fell once more into the darkness he had gotten so used to, uncaring for what would happen to him.
***
Lars had no dreams that night. It was like when he had been frozen, so he had to have been put into a medical coma for whatever purpose. He could not say for how long he was out, but he was eventually woken by voices. He was too tired to stir, but felt the familiar feel and scent of his capsule. So he was back in his room at least.
“Cut it out,” Ulrich said from somewhere miles away.
“Don’t fret so much, I just want to take a look at your scar,” Wendy said.
So it was those two he could hear. Lars was glad to be visited by his friend and that cute doctor. If only he could tell them.
“There’s nothing to look at. I cut myself when I was shaving, end of story.”
“This is not a simple cut... you must’ve burnt yourself.”
Why did they have to argue? Couldn’t they just be happy that Lars was alive and getting around? He tried desperately to wiggle his toes or flap his arms or something to get their attention.
“You’re out of your mind, you know that?”
“Look, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You overcharged your gun during practise, right? It overheated and exploded and then a piece nicked you?”
Lars put all his efforts into moving his body. He groaned with the effort which eventually caught their attention.
“Lars, you’re finally awake! I was starting to worry about you!”
He opened his eyes and saw his room in all its redness. The lights were dimmed, no doubt to better help him sleep, and the lid was opened as well. The lid would only be closed during extended sleep.
“Don’t try to move your body at all,” Wendy said. She looked tired and had her sleeves rolled up. “The assailant severed some of your spinal nerves, but I was able to repair the damage after seven hours of surgery. Your body needs rest and time to integrate the new nerves, so don’t try to move for a few days.”
“It’ll be okay, buddy. After all, you have me to take care of your duties in your absence,” Ulrich said and beamed down into the pod. His otherwise unruly red hair looked even more rebellious today. He always had been one to worry. Strangely, Lars was usually the one to get himself into a jam despite being the more cautious of the two. “Listen, I know you can’t have any, but if you awake later, well... I left some of your muffins on the nightstand.”
“Get some rest, captain,” Wendy said and dragged Ulrich out.
Once again, Lars was left to the darkness. Thankfully, the medication was wearing off and he was allowed to dream again. If he had died up here, what would become of his family? He didn’t want to dwell on it and slowly soared back down among them. There he found his refuge and it worked better than any pills he could swallow. Whenever the going got tough, he simply relished his memories of beautiful Charlotte and their newborn daughter Diane.
He could almost smell the hair of his little daughter as she jumped up on him, falling asleep on his stomach after a long day of play. He was starting to feel his body again and that was more than a dream. He blinked, unsure what was going on. He woke to find a familiar grey pegasus all tuckered out on his abdomen, her face covered with crumbs. He tilted his head and saw that his muffins were gone, but he didn’t really mind. He reached out a hand and stroked her blonde mane gently. She smiled in her sleep.
Why did these things keep happening to him? This wasn’t the only time that he had encountered these ponies and it just kept happening. He rested his right hand on her slowly heaving body and relaxed in his pod. It was always under great stress that he was visited by these eldritch equines, so they were most likely nothing but fabrications of his disease-addled brain. Still, hallucinations had not been documented as a symptom of the Crimson Plague, so perhaps he was truly going insane? Before any answers came to him, sleep overtook him again, aided by the warm bundle on his stomach.
***
He woke next morning to the flashing of bright lights and noise. He shielded his eyes and tried to orient himself, but he was still drowsy from sleep and his body had only just recovered from an injury that could have paralysed him for life. He looked up at the cheering face of his second-in-command and saw that many others from the security force were here, even a few lab coats.
The mood was high and dominated by Lars’ return to health. They had somehow managed to put up streamers and a get well banner all while he slept.
“Ulrich, why did you think this was a good idea?” Lars said and rested his left hand on his brow, too tired to properly move it.
“You ate your muffins, so I knew that you could move again and that you had gotten your appetite back. Licked clean!” Ulrich said.
“But I didn’t -” Lars stated, but knew the futility of discussing this. Whether his fantasy of talking ponies was real or not, it always ended up impacting the reality.
“Besides, when I told everyone that you had gotten better, I simply couldn’t keep them away.”
Just to prove his point, Kim shuffled over, nervous about approaching a superior officer. Like everyone else, she was dressed in her security uniform. You were defined by your work in Prima City, and most work uniforms doubled as personal clothes.
“Uhm, Captain Leland, Sir,” she said and fidgeted with her hands.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Ulrich said with a smile and clapped Kim on the shoulders, before going over to a group of young officers who he frequently entertained with his wild stories.
“I just want to tell you how sorry I am for leading you into that trap,” Kim said and looked at her feet.
“Don’t sweat it,” Lars said and relaxed in his pod.
“I’m just glad I told Officer Pendragon about the whole thing as well. He was very curious when he came out before you.”
“You told Ulrich?” Lars asked interestedly.
“Oh yes, he was very anxious about knowing the details. To think, if I hadn’t told him, he would never have come down to check up on you.” As if feeling a chill, she began to rub her arms. She smiled down at Lars and then went away to mingle.
Several other officers came over to check up on him and extend their best wishes and congratulation; even Wendy came to him to check if he was all right. What he really wanted some answers, but none of the people he talked with knew much. It started to annoy him greatly and he lay fuming for a while until finally Ulrich came back to his side.
The party had started thinning as people went back to their various duties. They only had a few minutes to spare to see their captain before heading back out. But Ulrich was still here, and he had a slice of cake in his hand which he offered to Lars. He accepted and pushed himself up in a sitting position and took the cake.
“Now,” Lars said and began eating the cake. It was a lovely chocolate-strawberry arrangement, “would you mind telling me what I have missed while I was out?”
Ulrich nodded and started explaining. They hadn’t found the culprit, but it was in all likelihood Gary. The iron rod had been left behind and was full of Gary’s prints. Knowing that they had been betrayed by the refugee that they had sheltered, the maintenance crew surrendered and confessed to everything.
“I couldn’t very well arrest them all, so I let them off with a reprimand. Those involved will be forbidden from enjoying the recreational facilities of the ship for a month,” Ulrich said and finished his recounting.
“Good choice. Still, I’d never thought Gary would do something like this... and leave evidence like that behind,” Lars said.
“He hasn’t had a drop to drink for weeks. He’s probably delusional at this point.”
Lars looked at up Ulrich, his eyes not really seeing. Ulrich had said something about delusions... if two people were seeing things not there, could it be a coincidence? There might be something wrong with the air filtration! But that should have afflicted a larger group of people. No matter how Lars wracked his brain, he couldn’t come up with any good excuses for the ponies he kept seeing other than insanity.
“You all right?” Ulrich asked.
“I’m fine, just... trying to make sense of it all. Have you found Gary yet then?”
Ulrich shook his head. “No. From the machine room, he would have access to the tunnels running under the ship. But he just alienated his last friends on board, so it won’t be long before he has to surface again.”
“Why did the maintenance crew harbour him in the first place?”
“I’m not sure,” Ulrich responded and scratched his chin. “I think they believed in his innocence, much like you did.”
“That’s it? There has to be more to it than that,” Lars said, but Ulrich simply shook his head.
“I doubt it. Most of them aren’t too clever.”
Lars raised his eyebrow in perplexity over that statement. “Most of them have degrees in engineering and are highly educated people. They aren’t exactly the overweight slobs with grease stains on their bellies you can find docked under your car.”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? Gary has found a hole to crawl into, but I’ll look through the status rapport to see if the main computer has picked up on his trail somewhere.”
“So, did Wendy say when I could get up again?”
“Not until tomorrow,” Ulrich said and placed a hand on Lars’ shoulder. “She actually told me you should take the week off, but we both knew we couldn’t restrain you for that long.”
Lars resigned himself to the fates and relaxed in his pod again.
“Don’t do something I wouldn’t until tomorrow then,” Lars said.
Ulrich nodded with a grin and left the room. Lars was now all alone and already bored out of his skull. He felt around his uniform and found the computer lodged to his collar like he preferred. His duds weren’t bloodied, so he could assume this was a spare pair that Ulrich had probably dressed him in.
With nothing to do, Lars finally found the time to go through some of the paperwork he had pushed aside for a rainy day. It wouldn’t get much rainier, not even being able to move out of the bed. He sighed and filed through the various items with a bored expression. He’d much rather be out on patrol and look for Gary. He was just thankful he lived in a time where spinal injuries were a minor surgery.
After a few hours, Wendy visited him again and checked his mobility. She made him lift his arms and legs and wriggle hands and feet. It was hard to do it with his joints aching, but Wendy was apparently satisfied. She slapped a patch on Lars’ neck that would help him sleep, and when he woke, he would be back to his old self again. He had his doubts he could sleep again already, especially with an itchy patch on his neck, but he soon dozed off again.
***
His dreams this time around were more difficult to remember and wholly inconsequential. It was about midday back on Earth when he fell asleep and it was very early morning when he awoke again. His limbs were stiff and his throat was dry and he wasn’t entirely sure what had awakened him. He blinked his eyes and stared into the darkness, trying to get his bearings. He felt something brush against his hand and saw that a mint green pony was studying it curiously.
Seeing that Lars was awake, the lights turned on by themselves and lit up the room. The pony looked up at him in panic, frozen to the spot. It was a unicorn this time with big, curious, yellow eyes and a harp on her flank. What had been in that medicine?
“Relax, I’ve seen too many ponies by now to care,” Lars said and covered his face with his left hand to shield his eyes from the light.
“You can see me then?” the pony asked enthusiastically.
“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve already seen a grey pegasus, a purple unicorn and I think I saw the pink tail of another. What’s so special about you?”
“I’m not really here! I’m just dreaming I’m here. None of the other people could see me. Where are we? Who are you?” she asked inquisitively and eagerly.
“I’m Lars Leland, head of security and captain onboard the spaceship PC Mournheld. What about you?”
“I’m Lyra! Lyra Heartstrings... you know, I was once a human too!” she said and began to bounce excitedly.
“Is that a fact?” Lars asked and relaxed in his pod. Perhaps this would all go away if he just played along with it. “How does that work?”
“Well, I’ve always wanted to be a unicorn! So when my fiancée and I found a magical portal, we immediately entered it. Unfortunately, he wasn’t particularly happy about being unicorn. We kind of broke up after that. He sells donuts in Canterlot now, but he still comes to Ponyville to see me from time to time!”
“Heh,” Lars said. He began to chuckle, first lightly then slowly climbing to a hearty and deepfelt laughter. He couldn’t help himself. The absurdity of the tricks his mind was playing on him was enough to split his sides. He clenched his face tightly with his hand as the roar of his merriment watered his eyes.
“What are you laughing about?” Lyra asked heatedly.
“I’m sorry, but that’s just the most ridiculous thing that I have ever heard,” Lars said, his cheeks aching from the effort. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let loose like that and just laughed and laughed. It was like a lifetime of sombreness broke like a levee and a flood of mirth filled him.
“Oh yeah? Well... I came here thinking humans were nice beings, but I can clearly see that they’re all still jerks,” Lyra said angrily with tears flowing down her cheeks. She stormed out of his room and through the door which she no doubt had no access to open.
“Wait... come back,” Lars said, still giggling slightly.
He was barefoot and didn’t want to bother finding his boots. The floor was comfortably warm though and he quickly forgot all about footwear. He didn’t understand himself what had made him lose control like this but it felt good.
The hall was empty however. The pony, Lyra as she had called herself, was already gone and left Lars standing smiling sheepishly. It was only then that he realised he had been running, that he was standing. It looked like his recovery was complete. He felt so good, in fact, that he decided to skip protocol and just go on an unannounced patrol right then and there. He was about to go back inside to fetch his boots when he noticed another light down the hall.
It was quiet, but the lights were on in Wendy’s room. The doctors and nurses and other medical staff were divided among the sections so that all parts of the ship had a little clinic and sufficient health personnel. Wendy, the head doctor of the security department, was also trained as a coroner.
Lars went down the hall, sprinting more because he could than any perceived notion of urgency. He didn’t know the exact time of day, but it had to be early morning. The ship was quiet and there no one about. Someone out on patrol could have hurt themselves or perhaps Wendy had had something to do. Most of all, Lars just wanted someone to converse with. He felt vigorous and alive and anyone awake would do.
He entered the office of Dr Williamson and nearly slipped on the blood. Normally his boots would prevent any disasters, but as previously stated, he had neglected to bring those with him. The only reason why he didn’t fall headfirst into the pooled blood was a quick grab around the doorframe. All his remaining giddiness drained out of him at that very moment.
Gary was here in the middle of it all. Wendy’s private quarters were designed as all other private quarters with a pod at the other end and a desk on the left. The doctor in question was lying in front of her bed with most of her head missing. Blood was sprayed up on the wall and all over the pod and gliding down the floor towards the entrance. A discarded gun had nearly drowned in the thick liquid and Gary stood next to it.
He turned his head and looked at Lars with big, frightful eyes. His face looked like it had aged a decade or two in the weeks that he had been missing and his features were harrowed and emaciated, his eyes the eyes of a madman.
“This is not what it looks like,” Gary said quietly, almost inaudible. He smiled weakly.
“Gary, you son of a bitch,” Lars said and waded through the gore. “You killed Burton, James, Leonard and now Williamson... why?”
“It wasn’t me... it was “him”!” he said, his shoulders heaving as laughed quietly and manically.
“Him?” Lars asked.
“You don’t know what he’s like,” Gary said slowly and looked down at Wendy again. “When you’re not around, he’s always bossy, insane even! He beats us and he can’t keep his hands off the women. Burton knew, that’s why he had to die. James found out, so he had to die as well. And then he tried to blame me!”
He cocked his backwards and laughed dejectedly. Lars was starting to get nervous and reached inside his uniform where his hand fortunately found the gun it sought. He pulled it out and set the intensity to low. He wanted to bring Gary in, not kill him. Killing someone so brutally required the gun to be cranked up dangerously high.
“But Phil believed me,” Gary said and looked down again, wiping his nose with his uniformed arm. “He hid me where “he” could not find me and he brought me food. But “he” found out! And “he” killed Phil and blamed me again. I had to run. So I hid in the tunnels. But Wendy found me. She believed in me and told me to come here when there was no one around. She told me that Lars would believe me. But “he” found out and she had to die as well.”
“Of course I believe you,” Lars feigned and took the sobbing Gary by his shoulder. “I’ll put you in a cell until I find him, all right?”
“Yes! Put me in a cell and so that bad man can never get me!” Gary said and grabbed Lars’ shoulders. “Lock me up and throw away the key. I’m tired of running and fearing and shaking and hiding.”
Lars was getting increasingly uncomfortable with the situation and felt he had no other choice but to pacify Gary. His actions were getting erratic and unpredictable and it was merely a safety precaution when Lars fired the gun into Gary’s abdomen.
It was a low, low intensity and Gary simply crumbled into a heap on the floor.
“Can you tell me who “he” is?” Lars asked. Gary looked up at him and smiled. He mouthed a word that sent shivers up Lars’ newly repaired spine, before chortling and then closing his eyes.
Lars knew of course that Gary was not in his right mind, but to see a finger pointed towards that man made Lars sweat coldly. His forehead was clammy and his rebellious locks sticky. He would need a haircut soon, but that was not on his mind right now.
By the time that he gotten Gary stowed away, it seemed the whole ship knew what was going on, in turn because he had sent a distress signal to the rest of the security force.
The jail was a small room at the back part of the security section. No one had anticipated it would be used very often, perhaps as a place for a few drunks to sleep out the night, so there were only two big cells here. The force fields surrounding the cells were penetrable only by the security team. The access was further restricted whenever someone was inside and only a handful of people could get in to Gary.
Chairs and a table in the corner were the only furniture outside the cells and Lars collapsed on one of them and looked up at the naked red walls. It was peaceful now, but morning was giving way to day and the usual bustle following was already starting up. Ulrich entered, both delighted to see his friend was mobile again, but also confused at the sudden activity.
“What the Hell is going on?” he asked and rushed over to the corner where Lars was sitting.
“I got him,” Lars said and put his hands behind his neck.
Ulrich looked over to the cell where Gary was lying. The effects had probably worn off by now, but he was sleeping soundly, thinking himself safe. “Amazing,” Ulrich said and put his hands on his side. “Now that is what I call a comeback. Bravo.”
“It’s hardly an accomplishment,” Lars said sourly. “He managed to kill our therapist, one of our head scientists, a mechanic and a doctor. I just hope the mission hasn’t been put in danger.”
“You caught him, that’s what matters,” Ulrich said and smiled broadly as he always did. “Besides, those deaths were only minor setbacks. Their work will be continued by others... well, maybe not Dr Burton’s, but you get my drift. Hey, where are you going?”
“Taking a shower,” Lars said and strode across the floor. “Can’t remember when I last had one.”
***
It was midday when he went out on patrol again. He had treated himself to a trim as well and his hair was shining and short, just the way he preferred it. His bloodied uniform had been replaced and reports had been filed. It still aggravated him that they couldn’t contact Earth and he missed his family badly.
It was his heart that led him as he wandered around aimlessly. He eventually found himself up on the bridge where only a few people usually worked. They checked the instruments and interpreted the data that they received from the central computer for maximal performance.
The bridge was placed in the middle of the ship in accordance with the layout: four circles connected to a fifth. As one might guess, the middle portion contained most of the mechanical aspects of the spaceship in the bottom, the bridge on top as well as the common room sandwiched between them. But there were other things up here too. The communication equipment that should, in theory, put them in contact with those back home, was placed in the upper portion as well.
The workable area was relatively small and contained only a wall with a monitor and a sound detector. No one would be in here usually as they had given up a long time ago to get it to work and no mechanic had been able to find anything wrong. The conclusion had been that they had been insufficiently equipped to establish a link with Earth so far into space. He was therefore surprised to see a familiar face up here. Young officer Kim sat at the controls and sobbed into her arms. She looked up when she heard Lars’ footsteps.
“Hey sir,” she said feebly and dried her eyes.
“Hey? You will address me properly, young lady,” Lars said sternly.
“Y-yes, sir! My apologies, sir! Please don’t reprimand me, sir!” she said and stood up with her fist under chin. She quickly relaxed, however, when she saw that Lars was smiling at her. “Don’t do that to me,” she said and slumped back into the chair.
“What are you doing up here, Kim?” he asked, genuinely curious to find his youngest officer up here. “Already homesick?”
“No. I miss my boyfriend,” she said glumly and looked at the wall of machinery in front of her. She rested her arms on a little shelf protruding and Lars took a seat next to her. “We promised I would call him every week, but I haven’t been able to contact him in a month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I have family back on Earth as well. I left a beautiful wife and a newborn daughter to go on this trip, and now I can’t even tell them how much I love them.”
She looked up at him surprised. “You left a newborn daughter?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. I didn’t have the strength to tell them that I had the Crimson Plague, so this is my escape and my punishment. When we get back to Earth, they’ll have made a cure and everything will be fine.”
“My grandmother told my dad the same,” she said and grumbled. “It will never change. My boyfriend has the plague as well. We were going to get married when I suddenly got the draft; else I’d never left him.”
“He’ll be fine, Kim. He’s still young after all.”
“I know. But it still feels like he’s dead, that everyone is dead. There’s nothing wrong with our equipment, is there?” Kim asked.
Lars shook his head. “There’s just something interfering with the signal, like a solar flare or a magnetic field that we didn’t take into account.”
She was about to reply when both of their computers vibrated and emitted a low hum. Lars took his off his collar and twisted the ends to reveal an emergency signal. Gary had been found dead in his cell. Lars could not believe the red words etched in light on his screen. He carefully read the short message again, but his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Gary had been found dead in his cell.
He put his computer away and rushed towards the bubble again. All of the five sections had numerous access points and one wasn’t far away from the communications room. Kim followed him, although she had no real reason to. She could have stayed and tried to talk with Earth, but that would probably be a waste of time.
“Listen,” Kim said as they reached the end of the hall. She started fidgeting again as she always did when addressing a superior. “Did... did Gary tell you anything?” she asked.
“Just maddened ranting,” Lars replied and called the bubble to him.
She looked like she wanted to pursue the subject, but was afraid of continuing. Instead, she simply took a seat next to him and rode through the ship towards the security section. She followed him as he ran, which wasn’t hard to do. Lars was a small, muscular man and had never been quick on his feet.
Ulrich was there already, along with the new head doctor and a few security officers who protected the scene of crime. How could Gary have died in his cell? He had nothing on him to make a noose, no sharp objects and the walls were soft. It was impossible to die in your cell through conventional measures.
“You were first on scene?” Lars asked and Ulrich nodded.
“Aye. I thought maybe I could convince him to start talking. When I came back here, I found him like that.”
Lars pushed his way through the guards and to the cell. The shocking sight was not Gary dead, nor the curiously handsome, somewhat androgynous doctor. All around him lay bottle after bottle of liquor; whiskey, vodka, wine, beer. The whole place reeked of booze and urine.
“How did he die?” Lars asked and squatted down next to the doctor.
“Massive heart attack,” the doctor said. His voice was like silk, yet his eyes were hard. “He’s got approximately 380 mg of alcohol per decilitre blood in his system. It’s a wonder he didn’t die before.”
“He always could take his drink,” Lars mused. “Is this suicide?”
“Unlikely. Even if I hadn’t found traces of a funnel in his oesophagus, someone would still have had to supply him.”
Lars looked at Gary. He would be about sixty by now. Memories of watching Gary on the screen when Lars was only a boy of ten flashed before his eyes. He remembered how highly praised Gary had been, how he had always been on the forefront of advances in space technology. Tragedies and booze had eventually eroded his fame and no one had ever thought that he would actually make it into space. It had been Lars’ idea, as head of security, to bring him along as part of their security team.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Ulrich behind him.
“He wasn’t the man he used to be,” Ulrich said with a hint of melancholy in his voice.
“I know,” Lars said and got up again. “This is bad, you know?”
“How so? It must’ve been suicide, right?”
“No,” Lars replied and shook his head. “Someone forced all that liquor down his throat. We’re either dealing with a vigilante or perhaps... perhaps we never got the real murderer.”
“Does it really matter?” Ulrich said and shrugged. “Gary was obviously the murderer. He died because someone was angry at him and I don’t blame them. I really don’t.”
“But-”
“Leave it. The only one who has access to that cell is you, me and a handful of other officers. We just averted one crisis, let’s not make another one.”
Lars stared up into his old friend’s eyes. This was the first time that he had ever seriously doubted his friend, but perhaps that was all because of the last thing Gary had told him. “Ulrich.” The poor fellow had been too afraid to even say it out loud and could only mouth it.
“Come on, why don’t we watch a movie?” Ulrich asked. “I hear they’re playing some sick B-movies all day.”
“I... I better finish my round first. Why don’t you take care of this mess and then we’ll meet back up again tonight?”
“Heh... very well,” Ulrich said and smiled again. “Yes, yes, I understand. We’re not up here to relax, but you can count on me.”
“Thank you.”
Gary had been out of his mind when Lars last saw him alive. The things he had said were only excuses and ramblings, yet they kept nagging Lars. He strolled out of the prison, past a paler Kim and down the hall towards the bubble. He didn’t trust Gary, he couldn’t, but something had been woken which now ate him alive. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate if his mind was this filled with worry, but could he even trust his own psyche anymore? He had seen things no man was supposed to and he shivered at the thought of those ponies.
But how could he put himself at rest? He lingered by the bubble, unsure what direction to tell it. He could talk with someone, but he couldn’t think of anyone. Either because they would think of him funnily or, if Gary was right, then Ulrich was in control of things around here. No, he needed confirmation from a source that wouldn’t squeal on him nor lie to him. The central computer.
“Maintenance level,” Lars said and a hatch opened in the side of the bubble.
He would be able to know everything from there. It was very simply, really. It was Ulrich who handed over the status reports and if there were any inconsistencies with what he got directly from the computer, then Gary had been right. Of course, Lars just wanted to be sure that Gary had been lying. He trusted Ulrich with his life.
He wandered down the hall and looked around. He wasn’t down here often and last time had nearly resulted in his death. If Ulrich really was behind the murders, he had to have been the one to knock out Lars as well. Ulrich would never do that!
The central computer room was in the middle of the hall. Few people had access since the computer in here kept an eye on the entire ship. Private footage of bathrooms, confidential conversations; this thing knew it all.
The door vanished at his touch and revealed a small room. At the very back stood a black column from ceiling to floor, a square pillar with a single little slot in it. The important things were stored under the floor and all this room was designed for was the interface part. Lars hadn’t had to use the central computer himself yet, but he knew how it was to be done.
He placed his palm on a plate next to slot which analysed not only his fingerprints, but also his chemistry and DNA. Restriction of access to the data here was of the utmost importance, so they had taken every precaution to prevent unlawful admittance when building it. The plate gave a little hum to indicate it was working. This continued for a few seconds and then gave a ping to indicate that he could remove his hand. Like with a vending machine of old, a little green button was promptly spat out. With it in his possession, Lars returned to his quarters.
He sat for a long time by his desk, discussing back and forth with himself whether to breach the trust of his best friend and open the computer. It was like a Pandora’s Box of trust, except there was a higher chance of it containing something good than something bad. He finally went ahead and twisted the ends so that the tube was revealed. It looked like any ordinary computer, except it explicitly stated along the length of it and on the ends that it was “Amassed data collection for spaceship PC Mournheld.”
A further twist of the ends revealed a screen, but not a keyboard. This was a read-mode only computer to ensure that there was no fiddling with the data stored on it. How could he have been so foolish? Ulrich would never have been able to falsify the data stored on this thing without Lars noticing. The very notion was preposterous. Lars simply treated it from that point onward as a regular report and skimmed over the important things.
Yet, he was now in possession of a report straight from the horse’s mouth. There was simply too much data for Ulrich to possibly find any discrepancies between this one and what he usually received. If one were to quickly locate something furtive about anyone onboard the ship, the first place to start would be look them up. It couldn’t hurt.
“Ulrich Pendragon. Successfully cryogenically frozen 7 M 16 D 1,982 Y ATG (16 June 4068 AD).”
Nothing unusual there. That’s what it said about all of them. Yet Ulrich’s entry contained an additional line that Lars had never seen before.
“Wakened again 8 M 3 D 1,982 Y ATG (3 July 4068) due to system failure.”
He had to read that last part twice before he realised its significance. Ulrich had only been frozen a few weeks, not the entire three years. Lars skipped down further to see if it had registered him reentering, but it hadn’t. What had he been doing for three years?
Lars scrolled down further, but it only got worse. He had used his authority to get into the provisions, to steal of the fruits and vegetables and to slaughter the chicken. Not that Lars could blame him. What else were you supposed to eat or drink... but for three years? It had to be a mistake somehow.
“So, you decided to weigh the words of a madman higher than mine.”
The words behind him made his blood run cold. He had been so absorbed in his read that he hadn’t realised Ulrich had entered. How much had see him read?
“Ulrich... why didn’t you tell me? You could have woken me up!” Lars said and got up to greet his friend, seeing him in a new light. He fell silent and his smile vanished when he saw that Ulrich had pulled his gun at Lars.
“It’s always like this and I am goddamn tired of it,” Ulrich said, his face contorted in rage. “You always have to outshine me. No matter what I do, you’re always there breathing on my neck.”
“Snap out of it, man!” Lars said and started yelling, but Ulrich seemed to ignore him.
“You knew that I had a crush on Charlotte, and then you married her. You knew I wanted to be an astronaut, so you became one as well. My pod didn’t malfunction; it was designed to wake me after a few weeks so I could take care of the ship. But not you. Oh no, you could just sleep all you wanted.”
“You idiot!” Lars cried out even louder which finally got Ulrich’s attention. “You know why this always happens? Because you never take things seriously! No one wants to date the class clown! And do you think I wanted to become an astronaut? If I hadn’t followed you all the way, you would never have come this far.”
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Tears of rage streamed down his face. “I hate you!” Ulrich said and fired his gun and hit Lars in the shoulder. He stumbled backwards and slumped against the wall.
“Please. I know you must have gone out of your mind with loneliness, but do you really want to kill me? We vowed to always be friends... forever,” Lars said.
Ulrich’s chest heaved from his uncontrollable breathing. “Friends? Don’t make me laugh!” Ulrich finally seemed to calm down, the anger in his eyes replaced with a maddened gleam. “I’m sick and tired of you, Lars. It will be over in an instant, so don’t try and squirm too much.”
Ulrich aimed the gun at Lars’ head. He had to come up with something fast lest he should meet his end here.
“What do you want to do?” Lars asked. “You can intimidate the crew, but you’ll be held responsible when we land back on Earth. Please, just put the gun down.”
“Oh, we’re not going back to Earth... ever,” Ulrich said and smiled. He laughed merrily to himself, thinking about the truths he was about to reveal. “Do you know? The government didn’t want to tell us, but Prima City was about the only place in the world with any humans left. The Crimson Plague mutated and killed anyone it infected. There is no Earth to return to. We’re just going to fly through space until we find a new place to live.”
“I don’t believe you, Ulrich. I have the Crimson Plague!”
For the first time, Ulrich looked genuinely frightened. His hand holding the gun quivered and he took a step back, as if Lars was a leper to be avoided at all costs.
“Y-you selfish... bastard!” Ulrich said, livid and infuriated.
He fired another round into Lars, but his shaking had twisted the knob at the end and lowered the intensity. It was just a few notches from a kill blast, but still felt like a knee to the stomach.
“You brought the disease with you, even knowing how dangerous it was? ARE YOU INSANE?!”
“It’s manageable,” Lars muttered, his wind taken from him. “What... do you think the pills were for?”
“You truly are a despicable man, Lars. When I become the king of the new world, your name will be forbidden. We will start a new colony of man in space and you will not even be a memory.”
“I may be despicable, but you’re still an idiot. This ship doesn’t have enough fuel to even make it out of the solar system. It’s not too late to reverse the ship and head back.”
“You’ve never been able to get it, Lars. Goodbye,” Ulrich said calming and walked leisurely towards his old friend. “How does it feel to die to die a useless man, a meaningless death? You diseased, miserable little -”
What Lars was would never be found out. The ship decided to give a mighty lurch at just that moment, throwing Ulrich off his feet and cracking his skull on Lars’ desk. Ulrich sank down on the floor, his head lolling to a side.
Even with everything happening, Lars couldn’t help but cry. He had not cried since he was a small child, yet here he was, wailing over the death of a friend, his own hopelessness and the words that Ulrich had spoken. He felt so unhappy, lying on the floor, curled into a little ball of pain, that he didn’t care what would happen next or even why the ship had suddenly decided to bounce like a bronco.
He would probably have died then and there had it not been for the appearance of another one of his vision. He saw again that flying candyfloss that had preceded his descend into madness. So it was a tail, then? Yes, he should have realised that earlier. Of course it would be the tail of a pony, because why not?
He looked up into the blue eyes of the mare, her fine coat a lighter shade of pink than her bubblegum mane and tail. She looked so happy. Was she glad that he would die here? How rude.
No, that wasn’t it. She wanted him to follow. She had been wagging her tail like this when they had first met too, but he hadn’t been able to see the rest of her. The pink pony went to the entrance and looked back, smiling at him.
He had to hurry up. He couldn’t disappoint her, not when she was putting her faith in him like that. But his left arm was useless now. Didn’t matter, he could still use his right arm if he absolutely needed it. He clasped the wall and forced himself up. Shaking, bleeding, but otherwise fine and wholly determined, he walked slowly at first, with long heavy steps.
The ship’s initial movements had only tossed him on his face, nothing else. It rocked again, but he wouldn’t be knocked over like that. As long as you did it right, it was virtually impossible to slip in these boots. Poor Ulrich. Lars’ heart nearly broke at the sight of his oldest and best friend lying there with his head opened like that. What hurt even more was the nasty things he had said. But the pink pony was waiting, so he wiped his face and assumed his professional mien and followed her.
Damn, the bleeding was getting pretty bad. As high as Ulrich had cranked that gun to penetrate a guard’s work clothing like that, it was a wonder it hadn’t blown up in his face. Still, the uniform had stopped most of the energy from the shot and Lars’ shoulder hadn’t been pierced all the way through. Only the loss of blood was getting to him now. Not even pain could stop him. Where was this pony taking him?
He thought at first she might be leading him towards the bubble. They were walking that way, but she stopped halfway there and placed her hoof on a panel on the wall. He stared blankly, first at her, then at the panel.
Of course, the emergency tunnels! But they led down towards the escape capsules. Really a useless feature. They were nowhere near anywhere that could be constituted as habitable. To put it in an analogy, they had equipped a cruise liner on an endless ocean with motorised lifeboats and no paddles. Even if he went inside one, where would he go? It was a long way back to the earth and small things like the safety capsules could never bring him home.
But the pink pony was quite insistent, so Lars opened the panel for her and she slipped inside. Lars followed her and stooped down since the floor-to-ceiling ratio was less than in the preceding hall. The pony was of course unencumbered as it was already smaller than Lars. It skipped ahead merrily, even as the whole ship shook and rocked. What the Hell was going on out there?
The tunnel sloped down and twisted and turned as it steadily led down to the very bottom of this section. As one might expect, this was not exactly the optimal way to get there. Even in the direst of situation, bubbles would still be working and this was simply an emergency tunnel. However, the pony that he was following either didn’t trust the bubbles or didn’t know how they worked and had thus required of him to use that roundabout way.
To make matters worse, there wasn’t any light on here either. Lars tugged at the computer mounted on his collar and was soon engulfed in a bright green light strong enough for him to see the pink pony even as she was getting a good way ahead of him. Was that balloons on her flanks?
She stopped up again when they reached the other end and he turned off the light again. She wouldn’t be able to open this panel either... so how could she have known that this tunnel was even here? He had more questions than answers, but he didn’t feel this was the right time to be talking. They needed to concentrate on getting out here, for what good that would do them.
All sections were equipped with emergency equipment in case something terrible would befall the ship. It was a relatively small area that only the maintenance crew would see regularly. It was required of them to keep everything here in a proper state for a quick getaway.
Lars followed the pony to the middle of the floor. About fifty bubbles double the size of the standard ones stood gathered here spread around. No one else was down here, so perhaps the catastrophe upstairs wasn’t all that bad? Or perhaps they were all dead already. He put a hand on one of them and looked down at the candyfloss-mane pony.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, panting and sweating. He wouldn’t have time to ask a lot of questions, but this was one he needed to hear the answer to.
“You’re a good man,” the pony answered. “You do not deserve to die here. You have a connection with us, so take a bubble and escape.”
“Your voice... you’ve been singing to me in my sleep?”
“Well, not so much to you as in just your presence.”
“I don’t understand anything. What is going on here?”
“Your friend found a portal to our world and thought he could fly through it. But the portal isn’t strong enough for this entire ship to fit through. It will be destroyed in the process. But you can survive in one of those bubbles!”
A loud creaking sound rent the air and it sounded like the whole ship was capsizing and sinking. Truly an absurd thought of course, but the sounds were frightening and no less dangerous for that matter.
Lars put his palm on the hatch and it opened to him. The inside was also different than the smaller bubbles. Rather than filling up with foam, it was equipped with a cryostasis chamber for those long journeys through the infinite space. Theoretically capable of preserving living tissue forever, there were some practical limits that greatly restricted how long Lars would be able to survive.
He was starting to get second thoughts and bit his lower lip. A sudden explosion from somewhere far above him quickly made him realise the severity of the situation, however, and he compliantly crept inside.
It was difficult, to say the least, for him to climb inside with only one good arm, but the pony pushed him from behind and helped him inside. It wasn’t very spacious, so the only thing in here was the sleeping pod. There were no controls for steering the bubble inside to preserve space and the only way to direct it was the computers all people had stuck to their necks. Just in case you had lost yours, one would be provided for you inside. If you were in a hurry, as you would most likely be if you were racing to get inside a space lifeboat, coordinates had been built in to all the computers that astronauts carried with them so all they had to do was close the hatch and away.
Lars would not be going to Earth, however. He looked back at the pony and grabbed his shoulder in pain. “What about you?” he asked.
“I have my own ways to get around. Don’t you worry, Lars! I’ll be fine,” the pony said and saluted.
“Will I see you again?”
“No, I don’t think so,” the pony said and shook her head. “You will end up in Equestria, but I can’t tell you when. I might not have been born when you land or I might be long dead.”
“Then at least tell me your name. You know mine; it wouldn’t feel right not to know yours.”
“Pinkie Pie!” she said happily.
Another explosion, this one much closer than the other, made the room wobble. Lars gave Pinkie a last, weak smile and then closed the hatch. The last he saw of her was her leaving and then mysteriously disappearing, like she had done the first time they had met.
Lars clambered into the cryo-pod and closed the hatch on that as well. A familiar scent spread throughout the small chamber and stung his nose so that he was afraid he would get a nosebleed. He knew it to be the antifreeze, but it was still an unpleasant feeling. Antifreeze, and anaesthetic in one. The very last thing he felt was the bubble vibrate to life and then plunge deep into the dark space.
Would he be all right? That was all he could think of his eyelids got heavier and heavier. And then, nothing.
