Unserenity (Genre Shift Vignette)

[Duffy]

The doorway came out into a balcony that encompassed the entire bay. Down below, over watched by gangways and observation decks, the ship’s precious cargo awaited delivery crews and clients. The bay itself dropped into the thick lower plating of the outer hull, readily deployable onto loading vessels and freight wagons the moment they docked or made planet fall. It was a functional, precise, and brilliant design.

He approached on a wide vector, taking the extra time it brought him to analyse every manhole, every bulkhead, and every lock mechanism on each of the crates in the manifest. If there was anything obvious amiss, then he was in more trouble than he thought.

He doubted Rayse would be so obvious.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

Nor did he think that Leopold was so foolish.

“Not a thing…” he said wistfully. He sounded disappointment. His instincts, though keen, had let him down. He leant against the nearest crate to compose himself. He was still aching from the somewhat frivolous encounter with Sei’s quartermaster, aches that would take many weeks to fade. The man had a solid right hook, though any man made of metal had to know how to use it.

Striding wistfully across the thick grating of the cargo bay, Duffy adjusted his wrist so that the strap around his middle finger tightened. The electrical current ran up his arm and told him the A.R.I.A had remained active. The flux that followed signalled to the A.I system that it was to remain on standby. A little trill sounded in his cochlea comm device to acknowledge the request.

“Ruby,” he said, “give me strength…” he closed his eyes and pictured the buxom redhead in all her glory. She smiled at him, in the twilight, and pointed nowhere in particular.

He opened his eyes and stomped a boot impatiently. He was running out of time. He began to sing an old mariner’s song.

“Clear and blue with endless awe,
Deepest hue and crashing wave,
Cold grey fog and windy sky,
The outraged clash is life’s true grave.

Ocean seabed awash with fish,
A world entirely of its own,
Under exists the magnificent beasts,
Across it the gods have flown.

In it dwells life a bountiful gift,
Across it drifts land and time abound,
Spewing death and crushing hope,
Pray for mercy in the ocean’s sound.”

In the serenity of space, the Prima Vista was about to come quite undone.