by Tom Cheshire
The options were fairly limited. There was the floor of the common room; not too uncomfortable but it was such a wide open space with no bedsheets or anything to give the illusion of privacy. Dom and Travis chose to sleep in here. Travis actually climbed onto one of the empty bookshelves to lie down. Dom had tried to sleep slumped on one of the chairs but then changed his mind saying it was going to be too much of a strain on his back. If I were Travis I would have been offended, but Dom probably wasn’t lying. Emma and Chloe went to sleep in the two separate small rooms branching out from the corridor. I’d previously said that those rooms were probably supposed to be bedrooms, but again, there wasn’t anything in there furniture-wise to make it so. It was all just empty.
I was the last to go to sleep. I didn’t know where I should lie down. I thought of climbing back into the cryo pod I’d first woken up in, but I was reminded of the horrible tight feeling I’d had and decided I’d be better off almost anywhere else. I also didn’t want to accidentally re-activate the freezing mechanism, although that would have made for an interesting experiment. God knows what would have changed the next time I’d woken up. I did a few laps of the corridor in hesitation. For a while I stood by the door to Emma’s room, wondering if I might be confident enough to ask if I could stay there. I would have liked the opportunity to ask her about the coffee again. Okay, look, I know what you’re thinking: Joe’s got the hots for Emma, hasn’t he. Well, I’m not going to shut you down, but it feels a little premature to start talking about things like that.
Ultimately, I found myself back in the cryo room after all, albeit sleeping on the floor, not inside one of the uncomfortable pods. I turned off the lights – thankfully there was a working light switch in every room. Despite my tiredness, it took me a very long time to get to sleep. There was just too much to process. I’d completed my first day as Joe, a complete stranger I’d fabricated out of my own limited imagination. I’d met four other complete strangers who also didn’t know their own identities. One of them had almost killed us all by throwing a piece of furniture out of the window. ‘Did I mention that we’re in space, and we’re going to starve to death? Gee, I can’t wait to see what tomorrow can bring!’ I kept talking to myself about the ridiculousness of the entire situation, but it didn’t help. My head was still throbbing. It was probably because of my injury, but it could have been from any number of things. The cut had healed itself up pretty well but it was starting to irritate me more than it had earlier.
I could hear a whimpering in the background. It was either Chloe or Emma. Poor them. Until now I’d been, admittedly, mainly thinking about myself, but it was worth remembering that all five of us were essentially in the same boat, and there was an awful lot to take in. We were all struggling, but at least we had each other. I sighed and rolled over. One day down…
The next morning I wearily greeted the others in the common room.
“Alright guys?”
“Alright Joe.”
Of course, when I say morning, I don’t mean morning in the actual sense of the word. Concepts such as morning and evening were completely meaningless. I shouldn’t even be using the word ‘day.’ It was just ‘wake up randomly, go to bed randomly’ for the foreseeable future, until we all died of starvation. Speaking of which…
“I’m hungry!” Chloe moaned.
“Of course you are, you haven’t eaten anything for 25 years.” Dom retorted.
“Come on guys, let’s not start this again…” I said. My voice was hoarse. “We’ve just got to hold on as long as we can.”
“What for?!” Chloe yelled. She had rings under her eyes and clearly hadn’t gotten much sleep. She was a far cry from her earlier, confident self.
“We’re human beings, we do the best we can with limited resources,” Emma replied. I wanted to agree with her, but my stomach told me otherwise.
“Well, shit. I’m all out of gum,” Dom said despondently. He’d been chewing the stupid thing so much, the flavour must have dissipated several times over.
Oh, the hunger. It’s almost impossible for me to explain how much pain we were all in by this point. We were all on the verge of collapse. Then everything changed.
It was the small black object from Travis’ pocket. All of a sudden it began flashing, beeping and buzzing out of control. We were all so shocked, we ran to the opposite side of the room, hunched against the wall. The device was rolling around on the coffee table until it finally came to a stop. Then it yawned.
5
“Um…” There really wasn’t any other reaction to be had at this point. We’d all witnessed it. It was a definite yawn. A human-sounding yawn, too. The five of us exchanged various looks of bewilderment. Dom slowly took a step forward and reached out with his arm.
“Don’t touch it!” yelled Chloe.
“Why not? It only yawned. What’s it going to do?”
“We have no idea what it is!”
“HELLO!” came a rather over-enthusiastic voice. “How are we all this fine day?”
“Is… that thing…” Emma began.
“Talking?”
“What may I ask is this thing are you referring to? A thing is talking? Intriguing. Can I see?” The black object slowly turned itself around by repeatedly hopping a very small height using some kind of internal vibrating motor. It seemed to be a rather impractical method of navigation. “I do not detect a ‘thing’. How unfortunate, perhaps that thing will show up again soon. I am happy. This is a good game.”
“Wha… What game?” Dom asked, his voice getting increasingly higher pitched.
“The ‘is that thing talking’ game. I really like that one. It is very much, what might your kind say… fun? Yes, fun is the word. Please repeat your earlier question.” The thing said eagerly. We were all too confused to construct a proper sentence.
“It… but… it’s… is it…” I spluttered.
“Please repeat your earlier question!”
“It’s… talking… that thing is really talking!”
“What is?”
“You are!” Dom screeched.
“Splendid!” the thing exclaimed happily. “I always win the ‘is that thing talking’ game. I am very good at it.”
“What… the hell… are you?” Chloe asked, patience wearing thin.
“I am the winner of the ‘is that thing talking’ game. Are you having difficulties keeping up with my celebratory remarks?” the thing gloated.
“We’re not playing any stupid games!” Dom shouted. “Just shut up and tell us what you are!”
The thing made a sound sort of resembling a painfully drawn out groan. It started swaying from side to side erratically.
“What’s it doing?” I asked.
“Uh… can’t do it. Can’t be done! Can’t!” the thing moaned. Dom made like he was going to reach out again but Emma held him back.
“Can’t tell you what I am and shut up... can’t talk and shut up at the same time… contradictory tasks cannot be performed simultaneously… do not know what to do… going to have to kill myself… going to have to kill myself right now…” The thing hopped its way to the edge of the coffee table.
“Farewell my friends. I had… fun.” It fell to the ground with a quiet thump.
“What the fuck…” Dom muttered after a few moments of disbelief.
“Dom, I think you just killed it.” Chloe said, staring wide-eyed.
“Me? How was I supposed to know it couldn’t handle a little, you know, logical contradiction…”
“Because it’s a robot, clearly.” Chloe muttered. Some of her confidence was starting to return to her. It seemed to kick in every time we had to process large quantities of ludicrous information.
“What do you mean, clearly? Firstly, we don’t know what that was, and secondly…” Dom paused and repeated his expletive. “What the fuck?”
“It… well, it might not be dead!” Emma said optimistically. She was ignored.
“It only wanted to play, Dom! I
t was obviously programmed to, like, follow our orders and stuff. If you’d only kept your mouth shut…” Chloe was in full-blown rant mode.
“Oh, if I’d kept my mouth shut? I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly see why you’re siding with that… thing all of a sudden!” Dom growled.
“That thing didn’t throw our sofa out of the window,” Emma pointed out. She was ignored.
“Because, Dom…” Chloe had somehow made herself seem very tall. “We could have asked it everything. We could have found out why we’re here and how to get home!”
“Home… Like any of us actually know what we’re missing…” Dom scoffed.
“I know… Dom… that whatever place I grew up in, no matter where it was or what it was like, I’d rather be there than trapped here with...”
“With what?”
“Dom the Schlong.”
“Oh, Dom the Schlong, right I get it. Gonna start using that as an offensive term now, are we?”
“You’re the one who came up with it!”
“Guys…” I stepped in. I really didn’t want another argument to be started.
The little rectangular object yawned again.
“Shit, it’s still alive!” Dom shouted.
“Knew it…” Emma smiled.
“HELLO!” came the same familiar over-enthusiastic voice. “How are we all this fine day?”
“Hi, talking thing!” Dom waved sarcastically. He turned away and muttered under his breath. “Psst… I don’t think he remembers killing himself just now.”
“Good, now would you let me do the talking this time?” Chloe whispered back. She leant over towards the object. “Hello, there! What’s your name?” she asked with the sort of forced cheerfulness that people always seem to put on when they are being patronising to children or small pets.
“Name? I do not believe I have what your kind refer to as a name.”
“Just pick one that feels right, it’s what we all did…”
“Affirmative. In that case, my name is Mr. Happy!” the thing revealed gleefully. There was a snigger of bafflement coming from Dom’s general direction.
“Male. Ha. Not very forward thinking…”
“You previously referred to me as a ‘he’, I chose my gender thusly.”
“Mr. Happy, eh?” Chloe said.
“What is your name, madam?” asked the newly dubbed Mr. Happy.
“It’s Chloe...” She extended her arm reflexively, before awkwardly withdrawing it.
“Nice to meet you Miss Chloe. I am happy that we are now acquainted.”
“Uh-huh, sure you are, so very happy, that’s why you’re called Mr. Happy?” Dom scoffed.
“I do not follow.” Mr. Happy stated bluntly. Chloe silently punched Dom in the stomach. The last thing we needed was for Mr. Happy to have another logic-based meltdown. Dom, however, didn’t want to stay quiet.
“If your surname is Happy, then what’s your first name?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Interesting, that is a good question. I do not know! I must have a think!” Mr. Happy seemed puzzled. “What do you think it could be?”
Dom gave a sideways smile. “Bob.”
Chloe facepalmed.
“Bob Happy, I like that name.” Mr. Happy declared.
“I was thinking more along the lines of Happy Bob. Think that’s got more of a ring to it.”
“Oh yes!” Mr. Happy seemed very content with his new name. “Happy Bob it is!”
“One question though, what happens if you’re not happy? Like, what if you became suicidal?” Dom asked. “Suicidal because of, say, a little logical contradiction…” Chloe was gesturing wildly for him to stop.
“Well then I would be Suicidal Bob.”
“Or just Bob?”
“Just Bob. I like that. That shall be my new name.” At this point the black object was simply accepting everything Dom was saying, like Dom was its master.
“Uh, hey… Bob?” I asked.
“Bob? Who is Bob?”
“You’re Bob, I thought…”
“My name is not Bob. My name is Just Bob.”
“Just Bob?”
“Hello!”
This was getting ridiculous. After another few minutes of explaining from Dom, the tiny ‘thing’ formally known as ‘Mr. Happy’ had officially been renamed from ‘Just Bob’ to ‘Bob’ and we had all finally introduced ourselves to our newfound companion.
“I must say I am honoured to finally meet you all.” Bob announced. Chloe used this as an opportunity to finally try to get some answers.
“So you must have been waiting for us all to wake up then?” she asked.
“I do not follow. I am simply expressing gratitude at the learning of your identities.”
“Yeah, but Bob… the thing is, we’re all a little bit confused right now. We’re just wondering… could you fill us in on, like, everything?”
“I do not follow.”
“Okay Bob, okay…” Chloe sensed that perhaps she should be more careful with her wording to prevent Bob having another meltdown. “Let me be really clear with you. The five of us woke up in cryo pods, we don’t remember who we were before we woke up, and we don’t know why we are here or how we can get home. Could you help us out?”
“Hmm… I see.” Bob said. “I understand your confusion.”
“Right, so?” Chloe flapped her arms.
“I will do my best to help you, Miss Chloe. Bob is at your service!”
“Good, good. Well you can start by telling us everything you know.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. Everything.”
All five of us found ourselves sitting in a circle around Bob, the tiny black talking object we all hoped would be our saviour.
“I am Bob. I exist to protect and to serve. I am the assistant intelligence module of the [ERROR], built to ensure a safe completion of [ERROR] and [ERROR] to help [ERROR] the [ERROR] in [ERROR]. You five are [ERROR] who were [ERROR] to [ERROR] and [ERROR] of the [ERROR]. Oh dear.”
“What’s the matter?” Emma asked.
“It would seem that my memory systems have become corrupted. I may need to restore myself from my last full system backup. Luckily I remember where the backups are kept.”
“Where?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s easy. You just have to look inside the sofa.”
My face froze. All the blood was rushing to my head, and I felt my jaw slowly fall open. Of all the places, the backups had to be in there?! I sensed that the others were in a similarly shocked state.
“Is there a problem? Do you need the definition of sofa?” Bob asked cheerily.
“The problem, Bob… is that said sofa is currently floating in space, miles away.” Chloe said calmly, looking towards the window.
“Interesting. I don’t remember putting it there.” Bob said curiously.
“What are we going to do?” Emma asked bitterly. I looked towards Dom, whose face was currently buried in his hands.
“It doesn’t matter. We can still get home, surely… We can just turn this ship around...” I looked back at Bob, hoping for some kind of reassurance from the tiny sentient machine.
“Home?” asked Bob.
“Earth.”
“I do not know about that Mr. Joe.” Bob’s words were crushing.
“Why not?” I asked angrily.
“Mr. Joe, I am simply the assistant intelligence module. I cannot control the ship’s navigational systems. That honour goes to the central intelligence core, which is strictly off limits.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“The navigational system is [ERROR] because of [ERROR]. Oh dear, it seems I can’t remember.”
I sighed. “Well what exactly can you do then?”
Bob’s cheerful tone started up again. “I exist to protect and to serve. I operate in many capacities sufficient to the sustenance of the crew’s emotional and physical well-being, including, but not limited to, providing a light entertain
ment service, assisting with day to day activities, and longer term services such as sub-atomic particle nanotech-driven interior decorating…” We had no idea what he was talking about.
“None of it’s going to matter if we can’t get something to eat soon,” Chloe pointed out.
“I do not follow.” Bob said.
“We’re starving, and there’s no food! We’re going to die, Bob! Do you fucking follow now?” Dom yelled.
“I do not fuck…” Bob said.
“It’s an expletive you moron, I’m just emphasising the point…” Dom groaned.
“I see. That is very fucking interesting, Mr. Dom.”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Isn’t there something you can do, Bob?” I asked, tentatively. “Food-wise?”
“I do not understand your concern, Mr. Joe. Did you miss breakfast?”
I was baffled. “Breakfast? There is no food on this ship!”
Suddenly three loud bell chimes rang across the room.
“And now it appears to be lunch time. Off to the kitchen, quickly now!” Bob exclaimed.
Before I had time to argue the others were already up and rushing haphazardly towards the kitchen, the promise of food obviously overpowering any urge to continually question what the hell was going on. We arrived in the kitchen just in time to witness something rather extraordinary.
All the walls had folded upwards, and behind them were all sorts of conveyor belts and moving contraptions, mechanical arms, gears and god knows what. It was like being in some ultra-compact, ultra-futuristic factory. Connected to the fridge was a large vat of some kind of gelatinous substance which was being siphoned off into separate containers. Eventually another bell chimed and in front of us were five bowls filled with some kind of purple edible matter. I had no idea what it was, and it certainly didn’t smell particularly nice, so I let Dom try it first.
“How is it, Dom?” I asked.
“Purpley,” he responded, unhelpfully.
If you asked me to describe what exactly we were eating and what it tasted of, I honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you. I didn’t have a clue, none of us had a clue, and Bob wasn’t being particularly helpful either: