Homesick

Vladimir sauntered cautiously into the unfamiliar room, checking for hidden electronic traps on both sides of the door. Violating the captain’s quarters was a serious crime even if she were dead. He looked above the door for a camera or motion sensor, but saw none. The room was much like he would have expected for a Western woman, particularly a faggot. There was an amazing amount space devoted to trinkets and other decorations, and the walls were plastered with brightly colored, meaningless paintings. Whose idea of art could that be? Certainly no decent connoisseur of the traditional arts would even waste their time appraising such a collection. He gazed disapprovingly at the mess of clashing strokes on the painting above the command desk. What was it even supposed to be? It looked vaguely like a bridge, but he scoffed inwardly that his daughter had done finger paintings with more detail than this as a child!

Glancing down, he smiled with relief. What he was looking for was in plain sight on the command desk. There on top of the dark console was a square plastic box that held a standard optical disc. On it were written the words, “In the Event of my Death.” Vladimir snatched it up, looked it over on each side and carefully examined the edges. She had not sealed it in any way. Good. He fled the room with the disc in his hand and rushed to his own console.

He sat at his desk and stabbed the touch pad, waking up the screen. He opened the box carefully and removed the disc. He slid it into a waiting slot in his console, like one would put a quarter into a vending machine. The desktop lit up with a display of the disc’s files. There were several folders, each marked with a proper name. He looked through them. The one marked “operations” contained only documents, powers of attorney, wills, and that sort of thing. The “Jackie” folder looked promising, however. That was the name of her faggot lover back home, he thought. There were a few movie files in the folder, which drew his interest immediately. He pointed to one and hit the “play” command.

“Enter Password. __________________ ,” was the reply.

“Damn you!” he said, raising a fist to the screen, which stared calmly back at him.

He tried the next.

“Enter Password. __________________ .”

And the next.

“Enter Password. __________________ .”

He closed the Jackie file.

Another folder read “Statements.” Good! More files to try. And there it was. Sally Bud’s solemn face materialized clearly on the table. As digital movies went, it was excellent, considering it was only intended for legal purposes. Her skin tones were well represented, the motion played smoothly, and the resolution was excellent. The pixilated areas normally seen in cheap, homemade recordings were almost nonexistent. They only showed on her teeth when she moved her mouth and a little in her eyes. Best of all, her voice was clear and distinct.

“Members of the Space Commission,” she began. “At the time this recording was made, I decided to leave the ship and travel to the surface of New Ontario in an attempt to rescue the missing pilot, Scott Anderson. Anderson volunteered for the initial landing and was eager to go. I, however, take responsibility for granting him permission to disembark alone. This I feel was an error in judgment. I’m going down now in the attempt to retrieve Mr. Anderson and return him to the ship.”

Vladimir’s hands danced on the console. The image stopped and flickered as her words wound back.

“empt to retrieve Mr. And”

“ . . . to retrieve”

“ . . . retrieve”

“ . . . ret”

“ . . . re”

Sally’s face fluttered quickly and then stabilized. “I’m aware this mission is hazardous, but I feel that, as commander of this expedition, I owe Mr. Anderson at least a chance at a safe . . .”

Flip flutter!

“at least a chan . . .”

“least a cha . . .”

“least . . .”

“leas . . .”

Vlad manipulated the menus at a reckless pace, clicking wildly at the colorful screen buttons.

“Re . . . leas . . .”

“Re . . . leas . . .”

“Releas . . .”

flutter flip.

“I have asked Mr. Merryfield to work on the problem of navigating Shuttle Pod Two . . .”

Flip flutter!

“roblem of navigating Shu”

“. . . navigate . . .”

“ . . . navigate . . .”

Flip!

“I intend to take every precaution . . .”

“ . . . caution . . .”

“ . . .tion . . .”

Click!

“Release navigate . . . tion . . .”

“Release navigation.”