Starlit Queen

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. For most, space is death. A cruel, unforgiving place. Once one is alone, full of fear, and languishing for breath, to shout or wail is warranted, albeit impossible; a great many have indeed died out in the void like this. Yet, space is a far cry from either malicious or malevolent. It is dangerous, but it lacks temperament, or mindset, or being. So my logical brain dictates. But I can’t help wondering, even now, as I did then, if that is entirely true. As I floated aimlessly. Pacific in an intangible realm of glorious light and colour, and of unending mystery and sublime terror. Of course the truth is much simpler than that. I do not have lungs or any similar organs in which air passes through, nor vocal cords with which to convey a scream. However, I can accurately replicate the screams, and like sounds of creatures which do possess such organs, at all frequencies. And similarly, I have the capacity to detect sounds with my advanced biomechanical auditory sensors. Thus if I so desired, I could… hear a scream in the vacuum of space.

It may interest you to know that my alpha-numeric module designation is AS920806-M, but my name is Darban. I’m a romantic, but I'm a machine. An android, created in the image of a species called Bangalla on their homeworld, Gaur. But not long after, I was saved from a lifetime of slavery, when I came into the service of Rakhine. A dashing rogue with cunning in her smile, and adventure in her heart. So for the umpteenth time, I was adrift in the expanse. Such was our wanton way of life.

On this particular occasion, Rakhine and I had encountered some trouble. An understatement.

“Darban… I think we’ve encountered some trouble.”

Lights on the bridge suddenly changed from a solid, dim carmine to amber. Although it was still dark, the lights flashed frenetically. While a klaxon blared obnoxiously, making it difficult for Rakhine to hear me speak. The space was small, and lacked design or aesthetic, but there was enough room for two. There was the viewer screen facing forward; wall to wall computers; as well as a contingent of levers, toggles, and switches occupying all available space. And many of these switches, whole consoles even, were instantly abuzz, and also illuminated. Some buttons were so small, they could be pressed by mistake, instead of another, and within seconds, all of the ship’s compartments could be flooded with nitrogen gas.

I grimaced at the prospect, “Oh no, what have you done to my ship?”

“Your ship?” Rakhine leered.

Sinhayana was Rakhine’s ship. She had liberated the old bird from a pair of drug dealers 11 years prior. She maintained the ship, and she made countless repairs and refits all of the time. She even flew the vessel. She was an excellent pilot. Nevertheless, she didn’t have the same level of connection I had with Sinhayana. A vessel whose disposition was not only enigmatic, but quirky and fastidious as well. After all, I am a machine. I am synthetic. And I myself am very particular.

I replied flatly, “Yes, what have you done?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation again! Besides, I haven’t done anything! The proximity sensors were tripped somehow, and now alarm bells are ringing! I had nothing to do with it!”

“Then why is the siren going off!?”

“I don’t know! I’m checking the long-range scanners now! Why don’t you have a tete a tete with my ship and find out what exactly has slipped by us! And turn off this racket!” Rakhine growled.

My mistress and I furiously turned dials, and scanned around and beyond the craft with haste. Her fingers and mine dexterously, and expertly danced upon the control panels, to see what the fuss was. I turned off the alarm to Rakhine's relief, and the amber lights turned dark red once again.

“According to long-range scans, there is some type of vessel approximately 2000km from our position. Its current velocity is slow; and apparently the vessel is moving away from us. It's most likely abandoned, or the occupants are dead. Based on the small size, it is probably an escape pod. But… I can’t detect any chemical or ion propellant, or antimatter in the region. This flotsam may have been out in the abyss for some time. And I can't detect any life signs. So, probably deceased. It does look like a technically advanced pod though. We could salvage it.”

I gave my report immediately after, “Our engines are operating within normal parameters, there are no hull breaches, all of the air locks are currently sealed. Nor have they been opened for several days… Internal sensors indicate that there are no other lifeforms aboard, nor motion on any decks. I did a diagnostic of the Sinhayana’s systems, and there are no breaks, or malfunctions. As near as I can tell, there are no intruders.”

“Oh yes. Of course there’s nothing wrong with the ship. It simply sounded the alarm for no reason. None at all.”

“If you want, I can run another diagnostic--”

“No, don’t bother, Darban. Besides,” Rakhine paused, “I have an idea of what may be happening.”

“Oh?” I was intrigued.

“Here, take my long-range scans,” Rakhine transferred her data from her computer rig to mine with a flick of a clawed finger, “based on the escape pod’s location and trajectory now, can you extrapolate where it was before the alarms sounded?”

“Yeah, give me a second.”

I pressed and clicked and tapped at my computer station, then waited, and a moment later, I analysed my findings, and I correctly deduced the travel path of the foreign spacecraft. And using this knowledge, I reasoned what Rakhine was already thinking.

“I can’t be certain how, but, our maybe-not-so-friendly escape pod came to a set of coordinates not too far from our own, but from the direction of the Laccadive Sector. I assume the pilot either had the engines come to a near full stop, then gradually drift for a further two or three hours, until it finally did stop without mechanical assistance.”

“Therefore we wouldn’t detect any ships in the area. The pilot bypassed our systems.”

“Precisely. Then as you suspected, the pilot exited when it was facing us, it pushed off of the hull of the pod with the aim of landing on our ship.”

Rakhine and I both paused for a second, admiring the cleverness of this creature’s plan to reach us.

“Bloody genius,” said Rakhine. “How long until our eager stranger knocks on our door?”

I replied, “Well, that’s the question. Whatever or whoever this creature is, they didn’t know about our proximity sensor, which has hair trigger sensitivity. If an alien body, or device, living or otherwise so much as touches the ship without being detected on scanners, we’ll hear about it. The pilot of the escape pod is just outside. And I’m willing to bet it has clamped onto the hull. Ohh, we should also consider that there is more than one. The pod is large enough to fit four or five beings our size inside.”

“You’re saying that some stowaway provocateurs are looking for a way inside right now? They’ve already been on my ship for five minutes!?”

“Either that, or they are saboteurs. They could have a bomb.”

“Fantastic. We can’t fly away, or try to shake them off without risking damaging or destroying ourselves.”

“Correct.”

“And if we open the air locks to greet them or repel them, we could be outgunned and quickly overwhelmed.”

“Also, they could rig the air locks to explode if we even attempted to do that.”

“And we can’t do nothing, because sooner or later they will force their way in, or blow up the ship. Remotely, if we give them enough time.”

“Yeah… we certainly have encountered some trouble.”

Rakhine glowered, then calmly, and through sharp gritted teeth said, “I’m open to suggestions.”

Unfortunately, I had no good suggestions. No ideas that didn’t involve tearing holes in the ship’s sides, or putting Rakhine’s life in more grave danger. “Alas, I cannot--”

“O, spare me the speech about certain jeopardy and your poor conscience!” Rakhine interjected, “What’s your plan?”

I sighed, “Man the guns.”

Rakhine smiled.