Nightmare Ship: Space Exploration Thriller

by Scholes, James

  Nolan screamed, kicked out with his foot—not at the hunter, but at the floor and the big red button next to him.

  The door shot open. The spider fell.

  “Jakool!” Nolan screamed, grabbed his friend and held him close. The spider tumbled into the darkened corridor underneath them, still kicking. Nolan slammed his foot on the button again and the door closed once more. Jakool collapsed on top of it, breathing hard.

  “I... I thought... I thought it was...”

  “Next time, don't kick the damn thing,” Nolan said, and then he started to laugh and shudder at the same time. He had been standing so close... He would see that ugly brute every time he closed his eyes; he would never sleep again.

  “You saved me, Godsmith.”

  “That's what friends do,” Nolan patted Jakool on the back.

  “Friends... Yes,” Jakool nodded, and he wiped a frightened tear from his eye. “We must hurry. There will be others, and they will not be as startled.”

  “Do you know the way?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? The bridge. You know how to get there? It is a room with a large chair in the centre and you can see the stars.”

  “Yes,” Jakool nodded. “Once, long ago, I was there. I remember.”

  Long ago... Nolan thought back to when he had found his broken coffee cup and the footprint on the deck.

  “That was you?” he whispered, but Jakool gave him a funny look and didn't understand. He didn't answer, either, and instead headed down through the corridor at a fast trot. Nolan hurried after him, wondered how long these creatures had been aboard his ship. If he hadn't stumbled into them, would he still be sleeping obliviously even now? Would he have just gone to bed after watching a few videos, whilst all around him Jakool and his people were battling giant hunters all over the ship? Would the ship be falling apart whilst he dreamed the dreams of the dead? Would he have even woken up, or died in the hyper-sleep pod? If he had woken up, how would he have handled the change in gravity? He would have found himself dangling midway up a metal cliff, the pod the only thing keeping him alive. And what then?

  Nolan shuddered as he ran. So many possibilities, but there was only one reality and he was living it. He wasn't sure what he preferred: at least dying in his sleep was painless, almost quaint. This was horrible.

  They reached a door and Nolan thought it looked familiar. Jakool opened it and slid down through it, like he was entering a cave. Nolan followed, saw that they had reached the observation corridor that led to the bridge. The corridor was on such an angle that they had to walk on the plexi-glass.

  Nolan walked across the stars.

  “You've found it,” he said, amazed. “I can't believe you found it.”

  “This is all I know,” Jakool said. “It is a part of me.”

  Nolan didn't know how to answer that, so he said nothing until they reached the closed bridge door above their heads. Nolan jumped up and slapped the button to open the door.

  “I'll have to lift you inside,” he said, and he picked Jakool up before the little man could say anything and held him high enough so the humanoid could grab a hold and pull himself into the bridge beyond. “Now you lift me.”

  “Give me your hand,” Jakool said and he held his hand down to Nolan. Nolan jumped and the humanoid grabbed him; he was surprisingly strong and pulled Nolan up with hardly a grunt of effort. Nolan collapsed on the floor and looked around.

  The bridge was a mess, but it was still intact. Most importantly, the weapons cabinet was only a few feet away. Nolan hurried over to it, slid his finger on the fingerprint reader and waited until it flashed green and opened. He opened the cabinet and pulled the blasters and chargers free. He handed them to Jakool, but kept a blaster and charger for himself.

  Jakool looked at the blaster he held in his hands.

  “This didn't save Kareem. Or Truda.”

  “No,” Nolan agreed. He paused, then added: “I'm sorry they died.”

  “I should bury them. They should lie in the ghost chamber.”

  “You can't,” Nolan said, but there was nothing he could say that would make things better. Jakool looked at him with eyes that were as wide as saucers, and full of tears.

  “Neema...” he breathed, and tears caught in his throat. “I have to go to her.”

  “We will,” Nolan said. He reached out a hand to steady his friend. “We'll save her, and the others. They will be okay.”

  “She'll be afraid. When the world spun... her baby will be...”

  “Don't think about it,” Nolan told his friend. “We'll go and find her, but I have to check some things first, okay?”

  “What things?” Jakool frowned, but Nolan was already hurrying over to the nearest computer. He tilted his head so he could read the screen.

  “When the water broke, it meant that the reactor can no longer cool itself. It was running hot before, but now... I need to check its temperature. Huh.”

  “Huh... What is huh?” Jakool asked. Nolan took a long time in answering; he stared at the screen and bit his fingernails. “Godsmith?”

  “Huh is not good,” Nolan said, and he wondered if Jakool could read the fear in his face. “It is.... Bad, really bad. I need to purge the system. There's a manual control to dump the reactor into space. I need a suit... I need to get to the airlock.”

  “Airlock?”

  “It's a door that leads to... Outside,” Nolan said, but he was only half paying attention to the little man as he brought up a map, tried to remember the steps. This had been covered only very briefly. There was a lever on the outside of the spaceship, but it would only work if... Yes. “Okay, so I press this button and that starts the process...”

  Nolan pressed the button that flashed on the screen. Nothing happened. He waited, then nodded.

  “Right, so the next step is to press the control button by the airlock, and then purge the system outside. Simple—I guess it has to be, doesn't it?”

  Jakool just stared at him blankly. Nolan didn't know what to say, and what was there to say? The reactor was over-heating, and there were two options: blast it into space, or wait for it to explode. Both options would lead to death, but one would take longer than the other.

  Perhaps he should just let it explode.

  No... Nolan didn't want to die, and if he purged the reactor then he would still be alive. There would be another way.

  “Neema needs me,” Jakool said, as though that answered everything.

  “Yes, but I need to go somewhere else,” Nolan said, and it occurred to him that he would have to go there alone. He shivered, and not from the cold. “But I will find you. Do you understand? I have a mission.”

  “I do not,” Jakool said, and his face was full of hurt. “You said you were my friend.”

  “And I am,” Nolan told him. “But if I don't do this, we will all die. You understand death, don't you? We'll both die if I don't go. Neema will die. Just like Kareem, just like Truda. All of us. You understand, I know you do.”

  “I have to go to Neema,” Jakool said, but he nodded that, yes, he did understand—at least a little.

  “Okay,” Nolan said, and he relaxed as Jakool's face slackened back to its normal, composed self. “Just let me bring up a feed—the cameras should still be working. I want to make sure the airlock is clear. Huh.”

  “Huh again. What is huh?” Jakool said. Nolan didn't answer for a long time. He was looking at the camera feed of the airlock, but the camera feed was showing him the outside. There was something else there, connected to the airlock.

  “Huh... Huh is a spaceship,” Nolan said, and then he grinned and started to laugh.

  Jakool just stared. He didn't understand at all. Nolan didn't understand, either, but at least there was hope—and hope was better than death.

  17

  Nolan and Jakool went their separate ways: Nolan headed for the airlock, and Jakool headed after Neema and the others. They parted awkwardly; not quite friends, but what else we
re they? Jakool headed off with barely a nod and Nolan watched him go, confused and a little afraid.

  Once again, he was on his own.

  Excitement mixed with fear until every fibre of his being vibrated with tension. A spaceship! It was impossible, but so was everything that had happened to him. The spaceship was connected to the airlock, and that was all Nolan knew: it looked like a small ship, especially in comparison to the behemoth that was this ship. How did it get here? When did it get here? Nolan didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

  But first: the reactor.

  It was already hotter than it should be. Nolan headed in the direction he had to go, and every step brought air that was warmer, more humid. A draining, sweat-bursting head. The ducts to his side blasted air that was like a furnace; he had to get the reactor pumped into space, and fast.

  Such a simple system: prime the purge from the bridge, confirm the purge at the airlock and then activate the purge outside, from space. It was an ejection system designed for an entire crew, not one person, but Nolan was the Flight Officer and that meant it was up to him.

  But what would happen once the reactor was outside the ship? Nolan wasn't sure, except he knew the ship would die. With luck, the cold vacuum of the void would cool the reactor enough so it wouldn't explode—at least, not until it was far enough away that the blast wouldn't reach him.

  Nolan laughed aloud, a cold and bitter sound that echoed throughout the dark tunnel. Now that the reactor was running hot, the lighting fluctuated out of control. One second it was bright and in the next, darkness flowed over everything. It was like a strobe effect, in many ways, and it started to give Nolan a headache. But it wasn't the lighting that made him laugh but the foolishness of the company that had sent him. One man to run a ship, and what could one man do? He couldn't fix a broken reactor, that much was clear.

  If he had an army of engineers, then he could send them into space once the reactor was purged. He knew that was the theory: work on anything dangerous away from the ship, and then use a tug to drag it back into place. Such a simple theory—but Nolan didn't know the first thing about piloting a tug, and he knew even less about fixing nuclear reactors. No, once the reactor was purged, it was gone for good.

  An unforeseen problem, but perhaps it was for the best—Nolan's hyper-sleep pod was broken beyond repair; he would die long before he reached his destination, and with the hunters crawling over the ship surely a quick death was better than whatever awaited him.

  Maybe he should just let the reactor explode.

  Nolan sighed loudly, then wished he hadn't. Something might be listening. He reached the blast-door that he had closed—oh, so long ago—and took a deep breath. Everything looked so strange on its side, but there was something menacing about the giant door that gave him pause. Last time he was here, something had attacked him—a hunter, he knew now. If he had known then that the monster wasn't something in his dream, then would he ever have gone back to sleep? God no—and maybe the ship wouldn't be overrun with the creatures now. But he had slept and history was history; there was no point lingering on it.

  But the door was still closed.

  Nolan hefted his blaster rifle, made sure it was fully charged and ready to fire. He headed for the switch on the floor, stood next to it. He let out another deep breath and then hit the switch. The door opened.

  Nolan opened fire: a quick burst that flooded the chamber beyond. Nothing but smoke and darkness. Nolan waited, but nothing came for him.

  Whatever had been in here was long gone.

  Nolan walked through the blast-door, into the corridor beyond. He checked all directions, above and below and behind. It was clear. He kept moving—towards the airlock.

  Towards the spaceship.

  The airlock wasn't far: just around the bend, but he had to be careful because it would be underneath his feet. It would be awkward climbing down through the gap, but not impossible. He just hoped he could get through the spaceship and into space—but if the path was blocked, there were more airlocks throughout the ship. There would be more hunters, too.

  Nolan reached the airlock. It was open.

  Silently, he approached. He looked in all directions once more, but there was nothing about. The lights were in their super-bright cycle and he could make out everything around him. There were no hunters, and he couldn't smell them, either. He relaxed, but only slightly.

  There was a flashing light on the console beside the airlock. Nolan knelt beside it and read the text: the warnings didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. Yes, he wanted to purge the damned reactor! He pressed the flashing red button and waited. The screen went dark: the computer was done caring whether he lived or died. Nothing else happened.

  It was anti-climactic, but he still had to get outside the ship. He would need an environment suit...

  “Damn,” he cursed. He would have to go back and get one from the shuttle bay at the bow of the ship. He didn't want to go back there: that was where Pashma had died. Nolan shivered from the memory.

  “Who doesn't stack the spacesuits near the airlock?” Nolan grumbled, but what was done was done. He'd go back and get the damn thing. There was another airlock in the shuttle bay, so he wouldn't have to come back here.

  But the spaceship...

  Nolan blew air out of his nose; he had come all this way, it would be stupid not to check it out—hot air be damned! Nolan stepped over towards the airlock, saw that both the inner and outer doors were open. A soft, warm, yellow light glowed from within. There was no movement.

  Nolan climbed into the airlock. He made sure his blaster was pointed downwards, into the strange craft. He could make out a screen and a chair and shelving. Everything looked human-sized. In fact, everything looked human.

  Nolan climbed lower and moaned as gravity fluctuated through his body. For a moment he was standing upright and on his side, and then he lowered himself further and his legs fell against the wall and he slipped and landed against the warm metal of the airlock. He took a moment to orient himself. When he stood, he was standing the right-way up. On a whim, he slipped his hands backwards, towards his own ship. There was a point where his fingers tingled and moved to the side. Nolan almost laughed at the feeling. Almost.

  He turned around, headed towards the warm glow of light. He stepped through the airlock, stepped on plush carpet that was the same colour as the light: a warm, golden hue. Everything was the same colour, including the walls that were padded yet firm, and the roof that was a little closer to white, but still tinged with gold. The seat in front of him was golden, too.

  There was somebody in it.

  “Hello?” Nolan asked, but the figure didn't respond. It wasn't facing him, but was facing the bank of controls directly in front of its chair. “Are you okay?”

  Nolan knew what he would find, but he had to do it anyway: he touched the chair and swivelled it towards him. He jumped at the sight of the corpse in front of him, but the shock only lasted a second. The figure was a human, that much was clear—it wasn't a humanoid like Jakool, or anything else. It was a man, like Nolan. Only he was long dead.

  What had Jakool and the others called him? Father... This was their father. Nolan knew that just by looking at him.

  The body was mummified by the dryness of the air. The mouth lay slack and the dried eyes stared at nothing. The man had been old—his head was covered in grey hair, and it was clear that his face was wrinkled when he had been alive. He was dressed in a robe and pants and Nolan could tell from the cut and colour of his clothing—a bright blue, tinged with gold and red around the cuffs and on the shoes—that the man had been rich. This was his private ship.

  A private ship... Nolan put the thought out of his head, or at least tried to. For a moment, the overheating reactor was forgotten and all Nolan could think of was the finery he was surrounded by; the gold, the fine clothes, the ship designed for one damn person.

  “I am only a flight officer,” Nolan told the corpse, not
quite sure why. “They wouldn't make me a captain because that meant they would have to... Have to...” Nolan started to stutter and cry. He rubbed his eyes, not sure where the tears were coming from, but they remained. He stared at the corpse with hatred in his eyes. “They would have to pay me more money! And so they made us all flight officers and sent us on our way. And captains get gold wings instead of silver ones... But they didn't want to give us those, either. And they sent us out all alone and promised that they would pick us up if jump-drives were created—you were supposed to wake me up! And you didn't. You... You didn't.”

  Nolan lapsed into silence, amazed that he had spoken at all. He let out a deep sigh, wiped the last tears from his face. It wasn't the corpse's fault—the man could have died there, just after opening the airlock.

  And, just perhaps, maybe this ship would be his salvation.

  There was a flashing light on the screen in front of the corpse. Nolan rested his blaster next to the dead man and pushed past him, leaned into the screen. He wondered what the flashing light meant.

  And then the screen came to life.

  18

  “Greetings and salutations, friend,” the screen spoke to him. Nolan blinked and stared at the face on the video, then at the corpse. It was uncanny, seeing the man talking to him on-screen whilst also lying dead and mummified barely a foot from his face. Nolan took a step sideways, away from the body. As he did so, he saw a smaller alcove that he hadn't noticed before. Down there he could make out a set of stairs leading to a lower level of the ship and, further down a short hall, there was a stark-white door that could only be another airlock. Nolan wondered why the little ship would have two airlocks in such close proximity, but there was such a difference between the two chambers—one gold-coloured and full of finery, the other stark, plain white and led to the stairs down below—that Nolan knew that the airlock at the rear was for the servants and crew to load the ship with supplies, whilst the one to the side was for the dead captain to make his grand entrance to whatever dignitaries were awaiting him. Nolan took in more of the ship: there was a suit hanging next to the servant's airlock. The suit looked pristine—Nolan didn't think it had ever been used, and he could tell that it was far more advanced than anything Nolan had on board his own ship. Lights glowed from within the helmet; the suit was charged and ready to go. Nolan frowned at that. Tempting though it might be, he would use the environment suits assigned to him by the company. At least he knew how those suits worked. That reminded him: he was wasting time; he needed to get out through the airlock and purge the damned reactor before it exploded. This was a distraction, nothing more. He could come back to this place once his own death was assured in the cold vacuum that would be all that was left once the reactor was purged. Nolan laughed bitterly at the thought: no wonder he was taking his time; neither option appealed, and the longer he delayed the inevitable the more chance a third option would present itself—death by fire, death by freezing, or something else; a way to live. Inside this spaceship, perhaps.