Incident On Deck Forty-Three
Through the black dome, CyDar watched as Hurford, R.J. #34-4563 and McCullen, J.M. #37-9863 arrived on the Lighthouse command deck together. Their files indicated a previous relationship. CyDar calculated that humans with an emotional bond would be an advantage.
Jamilah McCullen checked the Situation Log.
“There’s an incident logged just over eight hours ago, appears to be an impact of significance seven but no details. Odd.”
Rob Hurford was scanning Engineering and Communication logs. “Several electrical and control systems have been automatically locked out and re-routed. That would suggest a hull breach. But there’s nothing major in the environment log, only a blip around the same time… suggests momentary tremor in a small area. CyDar, can you clarify?”
The black dome pulsed with light from an internal LED. “Good morning, Captains Hurford and McCullen. I hope your revival has no negative indicators.” The voice was deep and feminine.
“Aside from feeling like a two-day-old hangover, no,” said Jamilah. “Please report on the situation. The log is strangely deficit in detail.”
“Admin Directive seven five three one states that two officers will be revived and will attend the command deck at regular intervals. Sequencing is random.”
Rob checked another log. “This is not a regular interval. Human watch isn’t scheduled for nearly another week. And Captain McCullen has already served two watches on this tour. What about this incident report?”
“Your tone indicates displeasure.”
“More like surprise. I’m surprised that an apparent level seven impact - a possible hull breach - hasn’t generated more than a margin note in the logs. Aren’t you surprised, CyDar?”
“It is… unanticipated.” There was a pause, uncomfortable by human standards, geological in computer terms. “I can gather no further data. All feeds from the affected area are dead.”
“Are the feeds cut or blocked?”
“Unable to confirm.”
“Rob, we need to recce this, now.” Jamilah opened a locker and took out two pressure suits. They were designed for traversing vacuum-affected areas in a gravity-positive vessel, not for deep space work, so weren’t much harder to don and work in than a jump suit. Since the Lighthouse was largely automated or inert, most of it was unpressurised. Breathable air was too valuable a resource to fill a whole station, and it was corrosive. Their reservoirs held an hour of air and could be refilled from points throughout the station. She passed one to Rob, brushing her hand against his. “I’m glad it’s you. I’ve missed you.”
He nodded. “Me too, you look great when you’ve just woken up.” They finished suiting up and she gave the cut-throat signal to leave their comms turned off. They pressed their faceplates together so that the suits could conduct sound.
“CyDar is being evasive. What do you make of it?”
“Not sure. The logs are generated in real time. I suppose they could have been tampered with. She doesn’t seem to be fully aware of the cause. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” They kissed through the carbonate faceplates and turned their comms on.
“Testing comms and video feed. Are you receiving us, CyDar?”
“Affirmative, Captain Hurford. Full signal strength verified.”
“Wish us luck.”
“Hopefully so unreliable a system of chance will not be required, Captain McCullen.”
“Amen to that, CyDar.”
to be continued......
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Image: Lexica.art
