Andrew Mackay - Pink Symphony

Tor typed a command on the keyboard at speed. “I’m going to run a diagnostic on you. We need to know you’re fully operational.”

“Okay.”

“Just a couple of easy questions. Please don’t take it personally. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ruh… ruh… r-ready.’

Jaycee pointed at Manuel with disdain. “Are you sure Max Headroom, here, is in a fit state to answer questions?”

“Let’s find out,” Tor hit the return key on the panel and took a step back. “Manuel?”

“Yes, Tor?”

“What does USARIC stand for?”

All eyes turned to Manuel as he drifted over to the control panel. “The United States and Russian Intergalactic Confederation.”

“Correct,” Tor hit a green button on the control panel. “Second question. What was the primary remit of Space Opera Beta’s mission?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Manuel said. “To visit Enceladus to decipher Saturn Cry.”

“Almost,” Tripp said. “The journey was to Saturn. We didn’t know about Enceladus until we reached orbit.”

“The answer is good enough for now,” Tor licked his lips and punched in a command on the keyboard. “Last question before flushing to disk.”

“Okay.”

“Where are we?”

Manuel went silent. His pages rifled together, creating a sound similar to that of a deck of cards being shuffled.

“Manuel?” Tripp grew impatient. His crew’s lives were at stake. “Where are we?”

The book slammed shut and shifted over to the communications deck, “Right ascension, declination, position ,” Manuel arrived at the most honest answer he could muster.

“Well?”

“I don’t know,” Manuel said. “I’ve retrieved the geodata in accordance with the Galactic coordinate system. It makes little sense.”

“Much like you, then” Jaycee’s unhelpful retort agitated the others.

“Shut up, Jaycee,’ Tripp said.

Tor shifted Jelly’s chair to one side and set the keyboard onto the panel. “Sorry, pet.”

“Hisss…” Jelly opened her mouth and made sure he could see her sharp fangs.

Somewhat frightened, he turned away from the disgruntled cat and over to Manuel. “Display the coordinates, please.”

“I’m not sure how much use they will be. But here they are.”

One by one, the numbers beamed from Manuel’s data page into the middle of the deck.

Tripp’s face fell, along with Wool’s.

Jaycee couldn’t believe the result, either. “Just a bunch of zeros?”

“The format isn’t even correct,” Manuel said. “Most of the zeros we see shouldn’t even be showing. It’s scrambled, unintelligible and downright wrong at best.”

Jelly took the opportunity to clean her right paw with her tongue.

“ Nowhere ?” Tripp muttered. “No, this can’t be right. We have to be somewhere.”

An idea jumped into Tor’s head as he took in the display. “Manuel, ignore the coordinates for now. We know we went through Enceladus. Do you have any idea where we are?”

“I am running a scan, now.”

“And the oxygen levels?” Tripp asked. “Botanix took a substantial amount of damage.”

“Opera Beta’s oxygen supply expires a little under seventy hours from now,” Manuel said. “But according to the scan, there is no oxygen present on board. No habitable atmosphere.”

“Well that’s wrong, we’re still here,” Tripp took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yup, that’s oxygen all right.”

Wool grew anxious and began to tremble. “Oh, God. We’re dead, aren’t we? That’s it, there’s no rescue.”

Tripp took her arms in an attempt to calm her down. “We don’t know the full facts, yet. The readings must be wrong.”

Her hyperventilation didn’t help matters, “Seventy hours of oxygen? We’re going to die, Tripp.”

“Calm down. Just breathe.”

“That’s the whole problem , Tripp. I don’t want to breathe. We have to conserve—”

“—Well, this is interesting,” Manuel interrupted. “I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

“What?” Tor asked.

“We are not aboard Space Opera Beta.”

Everyone looked around the flight deck. They were definitely aboard the spacecraft. Jelly hopped onto the communications deck and walked across the keyboard, swishing her tail. “Meow.”

“What do you mean we’re not on Beta?” Tripp asked Manuel. “I think you need another reboot, you know.”

“Also, something strange is happening to my clock.”

“You don’t say?” Tripp sighed. “You’ve got the oxygen report wrong, our location all scrambled – and wrong. Are you trying for the hat trick, now, with us not being on our own spacecraft?”

“Tripp, time is moving very slowly. I am not trying to be humorous. For every hour we have been at these coordinates, Earth has advanced by one calendar month.”

“Okay, that’s enough. We’re switching you off and on again.”

“The equation between Earth time and here is an approximation, of course. Not an exact figure.”

Tor whispered to Tripp. “I think Manuel is several gigabytes short of a terabyte. He’s clearly confused.”

“I can assure you I am not confused,” Manuel said with a great deal of sincerity. “My calculations are correct. We are not on Space Opera Beta. Take a look around. Do you recognize anything you see?”

“Yes! You moron,” Tripp screamed with frustration and thumped the control deck “I recognize everything . See, I can touch stuff! We’re definitely on board Beta—”

“—I think you may be suffering from delusion, Tripp,” Manuel interrupted, much to the amazement of the others. “Might I suggest a couple of hours of rest to fully acclimate yourself to your surroundings—”

“—What are you talking about?”

Tripp turned to Wool for her reaction. To say she was anything other than bamboozled would be a vast understatement.

“He’s nuts,” she walked over to Jelly and opened her arms. “We’re dead. Plain and simple. Jelly, come to mommy.”

Jelly jumped into her open arms and nestled herself in the crook of her elbow.

“Meowww-wwwaaar…”

The entire ship rumbled to life just as she made herself comfortable

Tripp, Tor, and Jaycee looked around and breathed a suspicious sigh of relief. Finally, an atmosphere that suggested progress, and one that was familiar to them.

“Beta. She’s back on,” Tor looked up and around. “I’m rebooting Manuel. This is a good sign. It looks like we’re in business again.”

“Tor, please do not reboot me. It is unnecessary. I am one hundred percent operational—”

“—Good call, Tor,” Tripp said. “Let’s get the controls up and running and find out where we are, at least.”

“No, don’t do that—”

“—Rest, Manuel.” Tor snapped his fingers, shutting off Manuel’s holographic representation. “Get some rest.”

Jaycee took a few careful steps forward and lifted his K-SPARK toward the door. “Wait. Something’s not right.”

“Not right?”

He looked around the walls and ceiling. The lights flickered. A distant, angelic humming grew louder from behind the door.

“You hear that?”

Jelly snarled, startling the others. She swiped her paw at Wool’s face, catching her off guard. Two of her infinity claws tore across the woman’s cheek, forcing her to release Jelly to the ground.

“Oww!” Wool yelped, confused by Jelly’s lashing out. “Jelly, what are you—”

“—Roowaaaarr!” Jelly hit the ground and tumbled onto her side.

Tripp, Jaycee, and Tor turned to Jelly. Her whiskers fizzed with tiny beads of electricity. She sat up right straight on her hind legs and allowed her whiskers to do whatever they were doing .