Engine Trouble

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Hopefully they could still hear a distress signal, or I would be testing the theory myself, with no time to document the results. The main engine had stalled about an hour ago and with it, the life support. I knew I wasn’t far from station K-5-3, but the odds of someone taking the time out of their day to follow a distress signal here were rather low.

A loud beep emanated from the panel before me. Guess the odds were better than I thought. Unwinding from my three blankets, I flipped a few switches to respond to the hail.

“A damsel in distress?” came a stringy voice. My screens weren’t working properly, but I imagined him as this tall, skinny thing with a bucktoothed smirk. “Need medical attention?”

“No, thank you. If you could just tow me to the station, I would appreciate it.” I pulled the blankets back over my shoulders, fighting a shiver.

“What would I get in return?”

I fought not to cringe. “A thank you.”

It went quiet for a long time, the broken screens leaving me staring into my own tired, plain face and messy bun. The silence grew long enough that I thought maybe we’d lost connection. Then a different voice came over the speaker. A woman.

“I apologize for my friend, hon. We’re headed to the station anyway, won’t take much more power to get you there. Got enough air for the trip?”

I tapped the oxygen mask floating just above my lap. I’d been hoping not to use it, as refills from the stations were expensive, but if it kept me from ending up on the same ship as stringy, maybe it was worth it.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright then, here we go.”

Station K-5-3 was a relatively small station in a relatively small sector of the galaxy. I’d been here a few times, usually with engine trouble and very little money to spend in the shops within. I gave a small sigh of relief as we neared the docking bays. My head was beginning to pound between small breaths of oxygen and I couldn’t wait for the free air I would get while on the station. I issued a small thank you to my rescuers as their tow line released from my ship and the station’s tractor beams took over, their gravity engaging. The synthesized voice of an android followed another hail over my comms.

“Welcome to K-5-3. What is the expected length of your stay?”

“I’m not sure. Could you direct me to a mechanic?”

A pause as it checked station records, then the monotone voice returned. “Fantastic Mechanics has an open bay. Would you like your ship directed there?”

Oh, with a name like that, how could I refuse? Unfortunately, it didn’t sound like I had much of a choice. “Yes, please.”

“Understood. Have a pleasant stay.”

It was the same sendoff they always said. Could androids get tired of saying the same things over and over again? Did they even remember that they’d said it before? Did--

My ship swayed as the tractor beam shifted directions. I shook my head. Focus.

When I opened the hatch on my ship, I didn’t quite get the rush of fresh air I was hoping for. Instead, the air was tinged with the sour burn of old oil and welding refuse. Somewhere in there I could even smell cigarettes, which were strictly forbidden on all GF managed stations, but such a thing was so prevalent, many found creative ways around those particular regulations.

No one greeted me when I stepped off the ship.

“Hello?” I called out. “Anyone here?”

“Yeah, yeah.” A man clomped around the corner and up to a control panel in front of my ship. “What seems to be the trouble?”

Had I met this mechanic before? I couldn’t remember. Thinking back, I didn’t remember the name of this shop either. Were they new?

He looked up at me and tilted his head with a deadpan stare, his eyes re-asking his question.

“Oh, um, my engine stalled. I tried to restart it, but couldn’t get it going.”

“Hmm.” He brushed past me into the ship and I bristled, following behind. As we made our way to the small engine room, I realized I hadn’t closed my bedroom door, or bothered to clean up at all. Trash was even strewn about the kitchen area. It hadn’t been this dirty before, had it? Or was it from the loss and reintegration of gravity?

I nearly ran into the mechanic when he stopped just inside the engine room. He clucked his tongue.

“There’s a lot to go through here.” He declared. “This could take a while. Why don’t you wander through the station? I’ll contact you when I have a diagnosis and an estimate.”

“Oh, but—”

He cut me off with a wave of his hand. “I won’t mess with anything but the engine room, promise. And I work better without an audience. You can hang out in the shop if you really want, but there’s nothing to do, it’s dirty, and I imagine you want to breathe some triple-filtered air before coming back to this little deathtrap.”

Seemingly content that he’d made his point, he turned to the engine and dug in. Dismissed, I stepped back up to the living area and made sure to lock my bedroom door. I didn’t have much, but I couldn’t risk him messing with the makeshift lab I had in there. I began stumbling around the bay, searching for the door to the rest of the station. I found it hidden beneath several years’ worth of grease, and it slid open with a decidedly slimy schlump.

Free from the bay, I endeavored to find the café with the cheapest prices. The station was busier than I would have expected for this area, captains and crewmates hurrying about, working through their shopping lists. Most were visiting but a few actually lived here. I watched people pass by as I nursed a lemonade and waited. I didn’t like being around so many people. Anyone could be amongst them, friend or foe. Friends were few and far between for me.

What makes a friend anyway? Time? Interests? Genetics? Most I had as a child seemed to be random chance. What test could we use to…

I shook my head when I realized I was drifting. Had I taken my meds recently? Running through the past few days in my head, I found the moment when I took them. I still had approximately 48 hours before I really needed to take another dose. Hopefully the mechanic wouldn’t take that long.

After far longer than I was comfortable with, the bracelet on my arm buzzed. I tapped it twice and a screen popped up.

“Figured out your problem. There’s a hole in the…”

I began to faze out as he ran through the list of problems. Only when he mentioned the price was I able to bring my focus back to him. “Whoa, what? How much?”

“5,000 credits.”

I bit my lip. “Is it all truly necessary?”

“If you don’t want to break down again within a week.”

That was definitely more than I had. I wasn’t even sure the ship itself was worth that much. I certainly hadn’t paid that much for it.

“Ma’am?”

“Just… give me a moment.”

As I sat there trying to figure out how I was going to pay for repairs, someone settled into a seat at the table behind me, their back inches from my own. I felt them lean back.

“How many ducks would it take to fill a plane?”

Startled, I glanced back at the figure. They wore a hooded sweatshirt, plain black, with non-descript pants, no accessories I could see. I couldn’t see their face, but I knew they were waiting for my response. Did they know what my response would be?

I jumped again as the mechanic’s voice echoed through my screen once again. “Ma’am? We can come up with a payment plan if you need it.”

“Go ahead and do it. I’ll figure out the payment.”

The screen disappeared as he ended the call. I turned to the figure, still waiting.

“The question is moot if you don’t know all the facts.” I replied, as I had a million times before.

The figure turned to face me more directly. The man draped his arm on the back of his chair and gave me a lopsided smile that was a bit too tight for it to be entirely genuine.

“You’re a difficult woman to find.”

“Who are you? How did you know that question?”

“Old friend of yours told me. Can we speak in private?”

I gave him my best ‘are you kidding’ glare. “I don’t even know who you are.”

“Come now, I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble just to kill you.”

“Prove it.”

He sighed. “How about this? I’ll take you to lunch. Somewhere with semi-private booths and lots of witnesses?”

And food. Real food. I’d had nothing but nutrient paste for months. It kept you alive, but couldn’t hold a candle to real, seasoned, sweetened food.

“You’re paying?” I asked.

His grin was more genuine this time, amusement lighting his eyes. “Of course. My treat.”

I led the way to a diner I’d seen during my earlier wanderings and we sat in a corner booth, partially surrounded by the view of the stars outside. The room was only half-full so we were far enough from other people that he was satisfied we wouldn’t be overheard and I was mildly content there were enough within eyeline that he wouldn’t try to kill me. Or at least he wouldn’t get away with it.

It wasn’t until the waitress walked away, six items on her ticket for me, one for him, that he began talking again.

“You can call me Jay.”

I leaned back against the booth. It was grimy, though I could tell someone had made an effort to wipe it down recently.

“Well, Jay. Care to tell me why you’re here?”

“My employer sent me to find you.”

He paused. I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“Care to elaborate a bit more?”

“I’m not allowed to say too much. Really, I’m here to convince you to meet with my employer.”

“By buying me food. I didn’t think a lot of places would reimburse you for buying me lunch.”

A small laugh. It was pleasant. If I hadn’t been so worried about what he was planning, I would have thought him attractive. Now that the thought popped into my head, I looked him up and down. He’d lowered the hood on his sweatshirt to reveal close-cropped brown hair, a strong jaw, and smart hazel eyes. I recognized the type. He was a soldier.

“You needn’t be so nervous.” He said when I rolled my shoulders. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not completely believing you. I’ve not had the best experiences with military men.”

We slipped into silence as the waitress returned and set plates before us. The smell of the burger and fries beckoned to me and I let the silence linger so I could eat. I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity to eat something delicious. If I died, I was at least going to die full.

He chipped away at his pie while I ungraciously gobbled up my burger, fries, chicken strips, milkshake, cake, and ice cream. By the time I was done, my stomach was hurting for a different reason.

“What can I do to convince you neither I nor my employer want to hurt you?”

“I’m not sure you can.”

A frown settled on his face as he folded his arms, thinking. After a long moment, he turned back to me.

“Aren’t you at least curious how I knew to ask that question?”

I was. It was the only thing left keeping me in my seat and not running for my life. “You’ll only tell me if I go with you, is that right?”

“Yep.”

I could still run. There were GF patrols assigned to every level of the station. I could go to them for protection. But then I’d have other problems. They didn’t weren’t fond of people who don’t exist on paper, and I had neither the money nor the skills to get out of it.

“It would seem I have no choice but to go with you.”

A bright smile. “Wonderful. Follow me.”

He paid and led me back out of the diner. We made our way past the shops, below the administration level, straight to the docks. Then past most of those. The farther we went, the more isolated we became, and the worse the pit in my stomach grew. We stopped at the back of a large bay and he placed his hand on a scanner. When the door slid open, my suspicions that he was a soldier were confirmed, he just didn’t work for the government that I thought.

The ship beyond the door belonged to the Galactic Force.

“Dr. Patricia Evenson. Welcome.” The crisp voice came from a woman, clean uniform, cleaner makeup. Nice shoes.

“Just Trish, please.” I responded.

“You worked hard for that degree. I consider it respectful to use your title.” She motioned to a seat at a table that was clearly set up just for this meeting. She took the seat opposite me as Jay took up a position behind her, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart.

“What does the Galactic Force want with me?”

She folded her hands in front of her on the table. Her nails were as nice as her shoes. “We need your help. It regards your last work in system B-12.”

B-12. A tiny solar system on the outer edge of Sector B, a tiny sector on the outer edge of our galaxy. I had no desire to return there. To return home.

I shifted in my seat, clutching at my arm. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t have to respond. Just listen. I’m sure you’ve heard, but B-12 has been under quarantine for almost a year now. Supposedly a pandemic of massive proportions.”

“Supposedly?” People like this didn’t use words like ‘supposedly’ lightly.

“We have reason to believe there is more going on than a simple illness.”

A chill ran up my spine. I hoped she wasn’t implying what I thought she was. “What makes you think that?”

“The same reason they were able to find you. I told them.” This voice I knew. It was one that made my blood run cold. The hum of projectors buzzed to life, building the holographic image of a man. A friend.

Even with the ghostly aura of the hologram projectors, I could make out the finer details of his face: the gentle eyes, the lilt of his lips, the dimple in his cheek. I’d run my fingers through that downy hair, debated with that confident voice. Though I’d never acted on it, I’d loved every aspect of him.

And I knew for a fact that he was dead.

The ghost smiled.

“Hello, Trish.”