The Anomaly 

It was a great ship.

It was a generational ship.

It was mankind’s last chance for survival.

But more importantly, it was home. So if it’s home, why am I so afraid?

I awoke to dark crew quarters, feeling a cold that was so brutally frigid, the cryo-sleep capsule had frost on the translucent cover, which made the world around me appear opaque.  When the capsule’s cover slowly raised with a hiss, I realized that the frost was not why my world was dark. The entire department was dark. 

My name is Abigail Bridgers, a Junior Third Star Engineer onboard the Earthship Venus Twin. Our generation ship’s mission was to take the last of mankind 100,000 light-years to the nearest habitable planet, Alpha Prime.

“Illumination On!” I verbally ordered to ship’s sentient intelligence computer system, named IO, which normally ran mostly everything on Venus Twin. But there are things that even IO can’t do, which is why two engineers are brought out of cryosleep once an earth-month to ensure not only the ship is functioning efficiently, but IO’s sub-systems arenas well. Ordinarily, the skillset needed would only exist in the veteran minds of adults. But the trip to Alpha Prime was long, and our cryo-sleep capsules don’t stop the aging process, they just slow it down. Every time one of us engineers emergence from sleep, the effect on our bodies accelerates our aging. We left a dying earth when I was eight years old. When I was five, I started training, having Venus Twins systems fed into my subconscious as I slept.  If the scientists were correct, I would be almost as old as my parents when we arrive at Alpha Prime. The older you are, the faster the aging process. If my parents had been assigned to do what I do, they would be dust long before we arrive at our destination.

“Jack?” I called aloud, hoping that my fellow engineer and best friend would also be awakened for our normal routine, although perhaps not now, for our ship-wide systems check.  

No response.

My frustration and anxiety started to increase, pausing when the ship suddenly shook so violently, I fell out of my cryo-capsule, faceplanting on the icy floor that was so cold, my face stung. 

“LIGHTS ON!” I ordered again, this time with more flair, but again not only were the lights not coming on, but IO also was not verbally responding, which was almost as concerning as the lack of illumination. I stood up, my bare feet finally coming in contact with the floor, making it feel like they were being stabbed with icicles. As I hobbled over to the command terminal on the balls of my feet, my mind raced back and forth between what was going on and where Jack was.

A few taps on the small, blinking red command terminal immediately made me want to crawl back into my cryo-capsule. The ship instruments read the ship was operating off 7% energy reserves, which means we were running off nuclear energy. “Nuclear… How archaic,” I thought sheepishly in my head. Venus Twin was massive, spanning over thirty decks from keep to bridge, stretching to over one mile in length, and widening to around one-tenth a mile in width. This means nuclear power had no shot inadequately powering a vessel of this size. The ship suddenly groaned, still confusing me on what these sounds were coming from. I could tell by the hum on the deck plates that we were at maximum thrust on our ion pulse drive, which we used to navigate through star systems and make minor course adjectives while in slipwave.  Our slipwave drive was not online, which was rare because 95% of the time, that is our primary means of transportation. Using backup reserves would explain the lack of lighting to non-critical areas, but that doesn’t explain why IO was not responding to my orders. It also didn’t explain where Jack was. Ordinarily, I would physically inspect his cryo-capsule. Still, if my memory served me correctly, his pod was a reasonable distance away, and it appeared as if I had more pressing needs right now. I grabbed my duty clothes, and my reading glasses diodes, which weren’t strong enough to illuminate a large area, it at least illuminated was directly in front of my face. 

L witheaving the crew quarters, I entered the service corridor, not having to adjust my eyes to the usually brilliant lighting of the hall. Instead, a red emergency light blinked along the corridor ceiling, providing absolutely nowhere near the necessary illumination to see the floor. I inhaled deeply on air that I knew wasn’t right. “The oxygen mix is all wrong,” I said to myself. “This hallway is twice as cold as the crew quarters.”  

Luckily for me,, the effect was temporary as my attire adjusted to retain more of my body’s own thermal heat. I planned to head for the command center to see if I grab a more thorough understanding of the problem. I made it all way to the command deck, when shortly after leaving the floor lift, my heart leaped to my throat, as I immediately tripped over something at my feet. I looked down,, thinking someone from the previous shift left a bag out. My tiny diodes focused at the object that caused me to freeze in my tracks. Lying perfectly frozen, both figuratively and literally, was Matthew Ren, the engineer from the previous shift. I didn’t need to have a medical background fed to me via cryo-sleep to tell he was dead. Softly touching his forehead, nobody could survive with a surface temperature on their epidermal level that was cold enough to harm a sheet of frost that thick. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever seen a dead body up close. I wanted so desperately to crawl back into my cryo-capsule more than ever. But with the fate of our species in jeopardy, I had to press on.

I looked at Matthew Ren, then up ahead to the door of the command center, “If he’s awake, why am I here, unless…”

Since the bridge was a secured location, the doors would only open to crew members who had the proper privileges enabled in the chip we all carried right about our breast bone. Luckily for me, the ship’s internal scanners were still online as the bridge’s doors parted upon my approach. Upon my entrance,, my hands cupped my ears, blocking my ears from the soul-piercing emergency klaxon while straining my eyes to once adjust to a near entirely dark room. I celebrated my first win,  punching in the codes to disable the audible alarm to hear my own thoughts. Upon doing so,, the engineering console informed me why everything was flashing red all over the ship. Venus Twin was snared in a gravitational wake so powerful, it snatched the ship out of slipwave drive, before causing it to go offline.  The ship was doing all it could to break free, its ion-pulse thrusters probably basking the entire rear of the ship in a midnight blue. The Venus Twin was tapping into all available energy reserves to keep us at the current distance. According to the console in front of me, if I can’t figure out how to fix this in the next thirty-seven minutes, the ship will no longer be able to keep an optimal distance from whatever it was which held us firmly in place., and we’ll be crushed like an egg. The human race will cease to be, while 99.8% will never know they were in trouble. I made a fleeting attempt to re-route all remaining ships systems, including life support to the engines, hoping a quick surge could give the ship the punch it needed to break free. Still, I quickly concluded from the logs that my suspicions were correct about the slipwave drive. I had to enable the slipwave drive, which meant I needed to go to engineering. 

With external cameras being offline, I couldn’t even see whatever phenomena were holding us in place. And to make my day extra special, navigation was offline. But the good thing was, I was able to at least re-enable IO’s verbal command structure, but she was still unable to navigate the ship.

There was only one way I could do what needed to be done, and that was overite the safety controls in engineering, and then head back here to navigate the ship. I exited the bridge, momentarily allowing my eyes to re-adjust to much darker hallways. My light glasses were all but useless, but I kept them on anyway.

Forty-five seconds later, I was at the door to engineering. One second after that, I found the next body. Slumped over the controls, was Cynthia Brayvage. She, along with the other body of her co-shift engineer Matthew Rey was now both confirmed dead. I initially thought Matt died from exposure. But finding Cynthia here like this, I started to wonder if something else was going on. “I’m sorry the previous shift is dead, but if I don’t do what I’m supposed to do, their deaths won’t be the only one.” I thought.

I carefully position Cynthia away from the controls, promising to give her a proper home-going after I saved the ship.  When her body comes to rest on the floor, a giant flashlight that was blocked by her body falls to the ground from her death grip.  Seeing the light from diodes reflect off the silver flashlight gave me the excitement of getting a gift on my birthday. “Thank you so much, Cynthia.”

As soon as I sat down, my fingers began thundering away at the keyboard as I overrode failsafe after failsafe till I finally came across the last one, bringing main thrusters back online. “MAIN ENGINES BACK ONLINE.”

I felt the ship surge, throwing me to the floor.

“INERTIAL DAMPENERS OFFLINE!”

“Thanks for that, IO!”  

 “WARNING. LIFE SUPPORT IS NOW OFFLINE. FAILURE TO BRING THIS SERVICE ONLINE IN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES WILL RESULT IN FATAL AXPHISIATION.”

All I had to do now was return to the bridge so that I could manually pilot the ship to safety. 

“IO, can you provide minimal lighting back to the bridge?”

“NEGATIVE, ENGINEER BRIDGERS. LIFE SUPPORT IS DOWN TO TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT. I HIGHLY ADVISE YOU TO SEEK SECONDARY BREATHING DEVICES.”

“There’s no time for that IO. I have to return to the bridge,” I responded as I exit engineering at a near-running pace, not even bothering to turn on my flashlight. Panting heavily on air that will kill me in moments, I make it back to the bridge in near-record time. I’m feet from the command chair when IO gives me yet again a dire warning. 

“ENGINEER BRIDGERS, HULL STATUS DOWN DOWN TO 62%. THE HULL WILL BE CRITICALLY COMPROMISED AFTER 48%!”

“Wonderful IO!” I respond sarcastically to a system that probably doesn’t get it. “Have power transfers been finalized?”

“AFFIRMATIVE, ENGINEER BRIDGERS!”

“Awesome!” I responded, minus the sarcasm. “Transfer navigation to command chair on the bridge and get me exterior cameras!”

“COMMAND CENTER CHAIR NOW HAS ALL SHIPS CONTROLS! STAND-BY FOR EXTERNAL SHIP’S CAMERAS” 

I begin putting in the coordinates to move Venus Twin away from the anomaly, and when I see the distance start to increase, I rock back and forth in the sturdy command chair with exuberance.”

“ONE MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

“TWO MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

“THREE MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

“FOUR MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

A knocking sound came from behind me where the command center’s entrance was, which I initially dismissed as an effect of the ship’s stress, but as we began to pull away from the anomaly, the knocking only increased.

“IO, identify the sound outside the command center!” 

“ENGINEER JACK YORKSON IS TRYING TO ACCESS THE COMMAND CENTER.”

I leaped from the command chair, knowing I only had seconds before the next manual course correction was needed. I slammed my hand against the palm reader, “Jack! What is going on?” I yelled through the door. “Why won’t the doors open for you?”

I was seconds from getting the doors to open for me when IO’s next alert came through, “TWO MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

“What???” I screamed at IO. “Why are we losing distance?”

“THE ANOMALY IS PURSUING COURSE.”

I moved close enough to the door for them to register me, and immediately I went back to the common chair.  I heard Jack shuffle in, glad that I was no longer alone. “Jack, do you have any idea what was going on?”

“Jack?”

“JACK???”

When Jack failed to respond, I thought he, too,, was in some sort of emotional distress. When IO chimed in with her calm tone, I knew I had more to worry about than Venus Twin’s proximity to the anomaly.

“JACKSON YORKSON IS STILL OUTSIDE THE COMMAND CENTER.”

A chill ran through my body, slowly turning around, not knowing what I was going to come face to face with. Despite my years of training, both awake and during cryo-sleep, I wasn’t prepared for what stood before me. With my mouth gaped-open, I stared blankly at a humanoid-shaped being of pure darkness, tiny specs of light thread out over its entire body like looking at the face of the universe itself. I located what I was ahead, but on that head, no representative facial features where present. There were no eyes, nasal passages,, or nose.

Whatever it was that stood before me mirrored every one of my slow movements as I contemplated how I could escape the thing that I now believe killed my crewmates.  There were no weapons on the bridge, so just when I thinking of the fastest way to the armory, IO’s voice shattered the still silence, “EXTERNAL CAMERAS ARE NOW ONLINE!”

As a child, I remembered the first time I saw Venus Twin in its entirety. It’s one of my oldest memories when we approached via shuttle. I remember how as we got closer in closer, the Venus Twin took up the entire view from our shuttlecraft, and we were still six thousand miles out. That feeling I had then, is precisely what I got then, as multiple camera angles displayed a black object that was so massive, it took up over ninety percent of almost every camera pointed in that direction. Despite it resembling along the lines of a personal comm device laying on its side, it dwarfed the Venus Twin by a factor of ten. The only thing more disturbing than its size was covering, or hull matched the same stellar blackness of the being before me. When the being saw the massive object on the screen, it seemed captivated by it, as if seeing it for the first time. That brief moment of distraction gave me my window to see if this thing that seemed to sliver slowly as it approached had speed. I guess that it didn’t.

I was wrong.

I made it through the bridge’s doors, narrowly missing the body of my best friend Matt, the tiny light provided by my glasses being the only thing that saved me from a tumble. I turned over my shoulder in hopes of seeing the being still behind the command chair, but to my horror, it was right behind me, reaching out to me in what best can be described as some sort of arm. 

“ONE MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY…”

“SHIT,” I screamed, this time aloud, thinking this was probably the first time I released a profanity in my entire life. “I think I picked an appropriate time to do so!”

I swung the flashlight like a baseball bat into the pursuing being, hoping to bludgeon somehow this being to death.  My flashlight passed from the right side of this being’s body and out the left side.

“HALF A MILLION MILES FROM THE ANOMALY… BREATHABLE OXYGEN DOWN TO  7%!”

I gasped, as my attack did nothing, while at the same time, I found myself running out of time and air.  The being’s left arm branched out into a tentacle and tapped my left wrist, immediately numbing it. I wanted to scream out, but that wouldn’t make my foe retreat.  I tried to run again, as the being reached out also, deadening my left leg below the ankle, sending me crashing to the floor, the flashlight turning on upon its impact with the floor. The flashlight beam struck the being in the foot, immediately causing its foot to shribble as it cried out in some sort of anguish. “The light!” I screamed in my head. “I’ve had a weapon almost the entire time!”  I got to one knee, focusing the light on the being in its center. Seconds later, the black mass had shribbed down to the size of a security sensor pad.

I limped back to the bridge with one plan to save humanity. “IO, prepare for a 125% burst of the main engines.”

“THAT IS UNWISE!”

“Do it!”

The ship’s main engines ignited a burst so brilliant and intense, the black anomaly was caught in our engine wake.  Like the being outside the command center, the black mass shriveled up and broke down into something that could fit into our shuttle bay.  With its gravity no longer affecting us, the Venus Twin exited the system.  When I came to, peeling myself off the floor of the command center, I healed my injuries, buried my friends, and returned to my crew quarters. I sent my cryo-sleep to put me back under. As I closed my eyes, my only wish was that when I woke up again, I will see the faces of my parents, not the sterility of the crew quarters for another routine assignment. 

END