Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > SF > The Stowaway
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1762 guests online and 4 members online |
Science Fiction and Fantasy
| print friendly version | |
| The Stowaway | |
| By kevinrobson73 | ||||||||||||||
| 16 April 2005 | ||||||||||||||
|
First attempt at sci-fi -be gentle with me The Stowaway
James Emerson5 sits at the dials of his fully automatic one man spacecraft. It's an unglamorous cargo carrier, with just enough fuel in it for this tiny inter-stellar hop. His cargo, as far as has been explained to him, is 1.755kg of archive; paper documents, bound for the nearest possible destination, a star,Star 22.The vessel is automatic, there is little for Emerson to do. His duties are not to steer or make decisions, just to sign that the cargo is on board, travel with it and gain a signature for it's transfer at the other end.The ship has no distraction or entertainment. In keeping with the austere rationing the ship has been streamlined for maximum fuel economy. It is stripped of all unneccesary embellishments to be as light as possible and save fuel. One of the reasons Emerson himself is able to gain employment on board is his small skinny light frame. He ia alone with his thoughts.Were it not for the signatures they wouldn't need him at all, the thought gives him no comfort. The chair, a synthetic wicker,lightweight raffia, James morose and bored, the dials flashing green for OK. Distance to go, speed, fuel, and bearing.Green, green, green, orange. The first inkling that anything is wrong.James taps the errant screen.It remains orange. If the message is true, he is off course with no means to correct it. He taps it again, - no change. Obviously an instrument malfunction, he re-assures himself.Later the speedometer joins in with the bearing dial. They both flash orange. Tapping the toughened glass helps not. The wires are cased and inaccessible. Perhaps there is a problem.Moments later and the fuel dial also shows orange.Only one conclusion. A stowaway, and there is only one possible place that anyone can hide.When James removes the panel, there she is, no more than sixteen earth years and very frightened. Large eyes, curled on her side in the foetal position.He motions her out and up, but she is too frightened, paralysed with her fear. "I won't hurt you" His own voice, rarely used, rarely needed, sounds strange to his ears. After a while she emerges. A small yellow puddle and a trail behind her. She is taller than him, just. Perhaps heavier.She kneels, out of reach, at the side of his chair.James shifts his feet to face her. "Do you know what you've done?" She nods slowly. James waits for her to speak. A small voice "I'm sorry, I know this'll get you into trouble, you can tell them it's my fault" "And that's it, ....... is it?" James is angry but his voice is still level "You thought this would be a telling off?" "Yes, I've an Aunt on Star 25, she'll pay my bond" "I'm afraid it's more serious than that, we're not going to Star 25, in fact very soon we''re not going to be going anywhere" He points to the four orange dials. "We're off course, we have no fuel, we're losing speed, and we're too far away from anywhere for anyone to help us" "I'm ....sorry" she ventures "You've said that" James interjects" Not that it matters, why did you do this?What were you hoping to gain?" By way of answer, she rolls up her sleeve. At first, James thinks that she is showing him an undergarment, soiled and bloody,he then realises with a start that her skin is not there. It's like an anatomy diagram; muscle, blood vessel and bones, that he remembers from a school lesson. "This is how my uncle enjoys me" she says" he flays me with a whip, that's how he gets his pleasure, he calls me his manx cat, my back and my sides and my arms. Never my face or anywhere that it might show" "Oh, my dear god" is all James can say. "Everyone thinks he's a saint for giving me a home when my parents died forty one days ago.He knows what he's doing to me, he's told me I can lose up to forty per cent of my skin and still survive.I wasn't going to hang around and find out. That's why I've done this, don't you understand?" "I do understand," responds James and searches his brain for the right words to explain that he does. The right words don't come. She speaks again,"I'm Sandra, what's your name" and she says it brightly as if they are friends and this is a normal trip. No reply, so she goes on " This isn't much like I thought it would look, I thought it would be huge and luxurious,like on the movies, when do we eat, I'm starved" "Sandra, there is no food here, there's not much of anything." "So what do we do, how do you pass the time?" "It passes, OK" James starting to become irritable "Sandra, I'd like you to listen to me and listen very carefully" "OK" "There is no cure for what you've done, this vessel is built for one. We can't both survive" "But you can radio for help, yes" "No, there is no radio, it would add weight to the ship" Sandra tries again "An escape pod, that'd be exciting" James shakes his head dolefully "Not even a space suit" The gravity of the situation suddenly becomes clear to Sandra "You mean" "Yes" James nods "that's what I've been trying to tell you" He takes one last look at her face before he ejects himself into the inky blackness, his final thought is that she might just, somehow or other make it , alone.
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|