We went looking for life but it seems we'll return empty-handed.
The Skeld is one of many ships that set out to find other lifeforms in the galaxy - anything between bacteria and a type three civilization, really. We're not picky. The main problem is that the galaxy is really fucking big. Even with warp drive, a trip to the TRAPPIST-1 solar system and back takes over two years and there isn't much to do on the way. You wake up, eat breakfast, check the ship's status, work out, eat lunch, analyse some data, play some games, eat dinner, and go back to sleep. The days have a way of bleeding into each other. It felt like an exciting life at first, going into space, looking for life on other planets. Of course it was exciting. I wouldn't have spent ten years training to become an astronaut if it wasn't. But now… part of me wants to say I wish something exciting would happen, but I really don't. If something went wrong now, we wouldn't just be ten people stranded in the middle of nowhere, we would also have failed our mission. We would have failed earth.
The night sky on Polus looks very different from that on earth but we can still recognize the constellations that lie behind earth. Amidst the sea of lights, I manage to identify Virgo. The brightest star in the constellation is Spica, even though it's over two hundred light years away. But a little bit above it shines the star that we call our sun. That's where we're headed. Home.
I look away from the sky to the metal shed in front of me and start moving, my heavy spacesuit making me walk in slow-motion. In the horizon of this rocky landscape lies the giant white ship that is our current home.
My visor shows an incoming call at the top and I wake from my thoughts. I lift my hand to my helmet and push a button to answer. Pich's face shows up on the screen, her dark hair let down to her shoulders. Her gray indoor-suit is buttoned down to display a purple gemstone on her neck. She had it made from ionite from one of the planets we visited last year.
"Is that you Buck?" she asks, probably having a hard time to see my face in the dark.
"Yeah, it's me," I say. "What's up?"
"We're gathering heads for a board game night. Are you in?"
"Yeah, just gotta finish up here," I say. "Give us an hour."
"Great." Someone in the background says something that I can't hear. Pich looks up, then back at me. "You want coffee too?"
"Sure."
"How do you like it? Milk? Sugar? None?"
"Black."
We end the call and I go back to the work I was supposed to be doing. I open the door to the shed and count six long metal cylinders stacked up on two carts. Those cylinders are filled with plutonium rods. Our ship's startup engines run on plutonium and Polus already has a base with tons of uranium drilled out, so this planet is our refuel station. It takes a few weeks for all of the uranium to turn into plutonium, so for the last month, we've mostly just waited for our fuel to process.
"Hey Charlet," I say into my helmet's microphone.
"Yeah? What's up?"
My speakers simulate the voice as coming from behind me so I turn around. I find the figure of another light gray spacesuit a few meters away.
"Let's get this done," I say. "Board games back on the ship."
"Oh fuck yeah. Owen! Where are you? We need to hurry!"
I find a similar suit to my right, but with orange stripes around the arms. Owen stops admiring the rocky landscape and turns around.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he says. "Let's just get this over with."
If people could radiate excitement in the form of visible light, Owen would be a black hole. But we get to work, pushing the carts along a flat road in the bumpy terrain.
"Last few minutes in this acne of a landscape," Charlet says to lighten the mood on our slow walk. "I'm so ready to be heading home."
"Yeah," I say. "Just a few months on the ship and we'll be back home."
"Just gotta survive three more days on this pile of rock," Owen says.
"Why… wouldn't we survive?" I ask.
"Hell if I know. But it would be just my luck if something went wrong now."
We reach the ship and use a scissor lift mounted to the platform to get the cylinders up and inside the engines. When the last cylinder has clicked into place, I close the door to the engine and come back down to the ground. Owen has just put the scissor lift back into its place under the platform when I get another call. My screen shows nothing but the interior of the ship's ceiling and somebody's green hair at the bottom.
"Knock, knock," says a cheery voice.
"Hey Grady," I say.
Grady angles the tablet, showing his overexcited, clean-shaven face.
"Are you done yet?" he asks.
"Almost. Have you decided what you're going to play?"
"Mmmafia!" he says with a voice like an overexcited TV show announcer.
"Yeah, just don't start without us."
"They're getting impatient," Grady half-sings and hangs up.
"Oh don't worry," Charlet says. "Yuki wouldn't dare start the game without me."
We park the carts by the side of the road and climb the ladder under the ship's middle to reach the airlock. Once inside, we close the outer door and use a button to depressurise the chamber. Behind the glass door of the airlock awaits the security room, with its naked, white walls and three-screened control panel by the other end. Seams in the right wall hint of ten wardrobes for our spacesuits. The chair by the control panel is occupied by someone whose long, red hair covers the backrest like a curtain. Rachel turns around just as the glass door to the airlock slides up to invite us in.
"Hey," she says, sporting the same gray indoor-suit that's been the fashion for the past two years. "They said you were about to finish up, so… I came to help."
"Nobody else volunteered?" I ask.
Rachel shrugs, seemingly unphased. She's too nice like that, always ending up doing the dirty work. As Rachel stands up to help, the tall, dark-haired figure of our commander enters through the doorway on the left.
"Everything done?" Pich asks.
"Engines fueled, carts pushed aside, planet kissed goodbye," Charlet says, her voice now sounding from both my speakers and from outside my helmet.
"You did what?" Owen asks, turning his head toward Charlet.
"What?" she says nonchalantly. "I just lied down on the ground and kissed the inside of my helmet."
Rachel makes a rather grossed out face and I can't help but agree.
"What?" Charlet says again. "It's just plastic."
Pich says nothing, just shakes her head with a smile and helps Charlet get her helmet off. "Ahh," Charlet sighs and flicks a lock of her short, cyan hair away from her forehead. "Fresh air at last."
Rachel helps Owen get out of his suit first, then they both help me get out of mine. With some teamwork, we get our spacesuits off and back into their holes in the wall. When everything is done, Pich returns back to the cafeteria and Charlet and Owen head to the showers.
"Hopefully won't have to use those again," I say as I close the last panel.
"I can barely believe it," Rachel says with a dreamy smile. "We're finally going home."
"Yeah," I say, "this has been cool and all but… never again."
Rachel shakes her head in agreement. "I'm spending the rest of my days on earth, close to civilization. Never thought I'd miss my parents this much. It's like I can feel them from four light years away."
"I feel you," I say, and lead the way out of the room and into the corridor. "But they can soon stop their worrying."
You get a certain type of people when you recruit people for a two-year long voyage in space where sending a message would take more time than the trip itself. None of us have any partner or children waiting for us back home. We have each other, the mission, and copious amounts of entertainment. But we still have people we miss - and that are probably missing us too.
"Well?" Owen says, stroking his unshaven chin.
The thin figure of Yuki looks down at the six of us around the table and pushes back her yellow headband before letting out a heavy sigh.
"Crewmates," she says seriously, "I'm afraid there's been a murder. While you were all sleeping soundly during the night, Grady was shot."
The cafeteria is where we relax, eat and play games together. The blue walls and tables add a sense of calm, as does the kitchen counter and fridge by the wall. Don't know if that sense of calm carries over to Grady though.
"Aw, come on!" he exclaims. "I just figured out who it is!"
Pich shushes him. "The dead can't speak, Grady."
"Maybe I'm a ghost."
"Then be a quiet ghost."
Grady groans and stands up. "Solve this quickly," he says as he leaves the table. "I wanna be alive again."
He joins Rachel, Walter and Benny on the couch by the wall.
"So Grady wasn't mafia," Charlet says, leaning her chin on her folded hands.
"But Walter might have been," I point out. "We voted him out last round and now there's only been one murder."
"Unless that's what they want us to think," Owen says.
"Maybe," I say, "but we'll still vote one out until we win. If we vote out one of the killers now, the last one is at a severe disadvantage. They'd be better off killing as many as they can to win faster."
"Unless they want to gain our trust, make us accuse each other while they sit at the sidelines," Owen says and turns to his left. "Isn't that right, Charlet?"
Charlet spins around. "Oh, now you're accusing me? What did I do?"
"You're the one who wanted to vote Grady," Owen says.
"Yeah, because I thought he was the killer! Why would I kill whoever I just suggested we vote? That would just make me look more guilty!"
Owen smiles. "Maybe you should've thought about that sooner."
"Oh, now I get it." Charlet turns to the rest of us. "He's trying to set me up. He deliberately killed who I voted for so he could accuse me."
Charlet turns to Yuki, as if she would give anything away. Yuki is playing with a few strands of her blonde hair, her face set on a knowing grin.
"What do you think, Buck?" Pich asks.
I take a look at Owen. He voted for Walter like the rest of us but he did try to blame Charlet even in the first round. But at the same time…
"Are we sure Owen is smart enough for such a move?" I ask.
Owen clutches his hand to his chest. "Okay, first of all: that hurts my feelings. But also: yes, good point."
"It's Owen," Pich says. "I know his tells."
"No, it's not me." He gasps, pointing at Pich and Charlet. "It's both of you!"
I shake my head. "Pich wouldn't go for a single kill as a mafia. I trust her. And Charlet would never risk getting her companion voted out."
We all turn to Lee, who's sitting quietly, munching on her lime bar.
"I don't know," she says, looking as clueless as ever. "If Walter was mafia, there's just one mafia left and we'll do fine another round."
"But if he wasn't," I point out, "we'll lose if we skip this round. They'll get two kills next night and win by numbers."
"Ooh, what if it's Owen and Lee?" Charlet says.
"Yeah, I'm voting Owen in any case," I say. "And we don't even need your vote, Lee."
Lee gives in - maybe trying to look innocent - and votes Owen with the rest of us. I look to Yuki for any kind of hint but her face is set on a secretive grin. I can only hope Owen isn't right. What if Pich went for a single kill just to throw me off? She's smart enough not to do that, but she's also smart enough to do the unexpected. What if Walter was the medic?
"Owen, you're hanged in the town courtyard," Yuki narrates.
"Fucking bullshit."
"And with your corpse still hanging for the crows to pick on, the village goes back to sleep," she continues.
Oh no.
"And as it awakes the next morning, there have been no more murders."
"Yes!" I punch the air in celebration. "We got you! We got both of you!"
"Yeah, yeah." Owen looks at Pich. "What tell?"
"If I let you know, I won't have it to my advantage anymore," Pich says with a smirk.
We slide the cards over to Yuki and the couch gang return to the table.
"You shouldn't have claimed to be the medic," Pich says to Walter as he joins us again. "If you were actually the medic, you wouldn't want the mafia to know."
"I suppose," Walter says. "I was just curious to see how long you would keep me alive."
"Well, now you know." Pich looks up at Yuki, the only one standing up. "Yuki, do you want to play?"
"Oh no, I'll much rather watch you all scratch your heads out. New round!"
We take a bathroom break after the next round. I take a walk around the ship, starting by the front and moving to the back. Reaching the security room, I notice a red light by the airlock. I get closer and see that the outer door is open.
That's weird.
Everyone is on the ship. I press a button on the panel by the wall to close the door, then another one to lock it. Just to make sure, I try to open it while it's locked. A warning message shows up on the screen:
OUTER DOOR IS LOCKED
So there's nothing wrong with the lock. I walk over to the control panel and click my way to the door logs. The inner door was opened and closed almost two hours ago, when Owen and I got on board. The outer door was opened just a few minutes ago. That is weird. I get up from the chair and I'm about to leave when I spot a figure in the corner of my eye.
"Whoa!"
I've already backed up against the wall when I manage to identify the short figure in the doorway.
"Don't sneak up on me like that," I say, regaining my posture.
"Sorry," Lee says, looking more curious than apologetic. "What are you doing?"
"The door out was open," I say. "You got any idea why?"
"No." She looks at the airlock. "Maybe somebody pressed the button on accident."
"First the button to unlock it and then the button to open it?" I ask skeptically.
"Maybe it wasn't locked."
"Maybe," I admit.
I honestly can't recall if we did lock it on our way in. But at least it's taken care of now.
"Well…" I say, pointing my thumb to the cafeteria, "Imma head back. Are you joining us?"
"No," Lee says absent-mindedly and walks the other way.
I look at her as she leaves, trying to figure out what's going on in her head. I've never managed to connect with Lee. She tends to keep to herself and doesn't offer much in the way of conversation.
"Are you in or out?" says a deep voice from out of the blue.
I tense up for the second time in a minute but I don't think it shows. I turn around to find the muscular figure that is Benny, his face as stoic as always.
"What?" I say stupidly.
"Another round of Mafia," Benny says. "Are you in?"
"Sure," I say and the two of us head back.
"There he is," Grady exclaims when we arrive. "Come here, we need to get some killing happening."