When I want to feel alone I slide to the bottom of my oubliette and hide from the stars. Mostly I stay up by the hatch, turn the interior lights off, and stare into the expanse, trying to work out which stars are which, but the perspective shift of being beyond Mars orbit and on the way to Jupiter, makes things tricky.
They’ll have to decide what to do with me before we get that far. This repurposed storage silo doesn’t have the shielding to—
‘Berman, are you awake?’
The comms unit is on the charging dock. I reach over and press the key.
‘I’m awake.’
‘It’s Zha Bai. Tian Feng is here as well.’
‘Hello.’ Bai and Feng are my defence team. Both excellent engineers. I’m not so sure about their skills as lawyers. My next hearing isn’t until next week.
‘Your hearing’s been moved up,’ Bai says. A shaft of light slides down the wall. ‘You need to suit up. They’re on their way.’
Looking up I see the shadow of heads at the hatch. Helmet lights shine down. Reaching under my bunk I pull out my suit and helmet.
‘It can’t be denied Captain Arband’s actions were grossly negligent, despite numerous, recorded, warnings—’
‘Objection,’ Bai stands, and waves at the triumvirate assigned to judge my trial.
‘Sit down,’ Anna, the chair, says. ‘This is not a court procedural entertainment show.’
Anna had been my third in command, now Acting-Captain. Her fellow judges are the head of the bio-mimetic-engineering whose name I forget, and Georgi Mprouli, who I’d known since we worked on plans for hollowing out an asteroid, and setting the controls for the heart of the galaxy.
I wonder what Earth was saying. If the issue with the engines occurred the other side of Jupiter the lag would have been, well, maybe more or maybe less complicated. It’d depend who was in control back there, and how the folks here respond to the pressure they brought to bear.
But Earth is a mere eight minutes away via coms. Still close enough to exert influence on a matter they couldn’t foresee and were slow to acknowledge.
The trial continues, and it’s clear I’ll get more time to look at stars.
There’s a haze and I’m not sure if it’s marks on the glass or something out there, obscuring my view. In the weeks since the last trial phase I’ve watched the stars less, huddled at the bottom of my oubliette more.
The current calculation is eight people died, and thirteen percent of our dry stores were made unusable, during the engine burn where radiation leaked from an unshielded tunnel in the asteroid we’ve turned into a home.
That’s my fault.
Or so the allegation goes.
We’re further from the sun and my cell is cooler. I’m not sure that’s true. It’s possible the coolness is inside me. It’s possible the knowledge of judgement being impending, and deleterious, dampens the fire which keeps me warm in this tube exposed to the stars.
I feel more alone than ever. Sometimes I wonder what Bai and Feng are up to. Not my defence, or not so much that they’ve been to talk with me recently.
Maybe Anna, or whoever she’s colluding with on earth, have leant on them. Anna knew everything that was happening, she was in the chain of command and had executive privileges.
I know I saw relevant information, I’m just not sure I saw all the information. I can’t be certain, but I’ve spent plenty time thinking about it.
The triumvirate has changed. Anna is missing. Georgi has ‘stood down’. I recognise all three, but don’t know them, and still can’t remember the name of the bio-mimetic-engineer head who is now chair.
‘Berman Arband,’ he says, ‘you’re charged with gross negligence leading to death and wanton destruction of goods. You have been found guilty. Do you have anything to say before sentence is passed?’
Maybe, it depends who has control. I say, ‘The stars have always been my home. I watch them from my oubliette. All I want is to get us there, to get our children there.’
‘You have no family, Captain Arband.’
It’s the first time my rank has been acknowledged. I take my time and look at each judge.
’Every soul on this ship is my family. I swore to take everyone who came aboard to the limit of my time.’ I lick my lips and say, ‘put me where you think I should be.’ And most of me hopes it’s where I can still watch the stars for a long time to come.
text by stuartcturnbull, art by kalhh via Pixabay
