———Published June 29th, 2024———
It’s summer on Earth. The year is 2917 as I record this somewhere in the Warshaw Quadrant—the exact point unknown to me. I, a humble Deck Officer of Transit Ship 212, sit down to write this tale because of my desire to set certain unusual facts before the public. Something I will not survive to accomplish in person.
For two weeks my life has been a nightmare. It started when I came out of hypersleep.
Our shifts on the ship were supposed to be simple. Eight months working. Eight months in hypersleep to save life support resources.
Eight months because that’s the maximum amount of time The Solar Trading & Transport Company found an astronaut could float alone in the bareness of space with only their thoughts and the computer to keep them company.
Any longer and things got, well, nutty.
Almost everything was automated on the ship. And I almost never saw a soul.
There were only two of us when we left Earth. Both of us trained to manage all 12 sections of the ship without help.
We left Earth nearly 5 years ago. I recount the tale below to cure any curiosity into the matter and give you nothing but the cold hard facts.
***************
It all started when I awoke from hypersleep. The standard procedure had always been simple. The crewmember whose shift I’d be taking over would be there to greet me.
In my case, that would be Deck Officer, Swarcson. I liked Swarcson the little bit that I knew him.
I’d emerge from hypersleep and the first thing I would see was a silly, cracked grin on his boyish face. He’d tell me some dirty joke I didn’t quite understand. And then he’d debrief me before settling into his hypersleep pod while I started my shift.
But this time was different. Because when I awoke two weeks ago, there was no one there to greet me.
No Swarcson. No silly grin. No dirty joke.
Just an empty room.
Awaking from hyperspace is extremely disorienting. You can forget who you are. Forget where you are. And it’s easy to mistake dreams for reality. That’s why you need someone there to remind you.
I emerged from my pod like a baby emerging from the womb. I was what crewmembers called “blanked”. I had no thought. No sense of self. I was an animal. Nothing but my five senses plugged into awareness. I was acting purely on instinct.
I looked up and saw a work suit hanging from a hook. The steel name tag flashed in the artificial light. And memories began to pour back in.
Deck Officer Charold Hewz. That’s my name. I’m on a ship.
Even then I knew it was strange only seeing only a single work suit on my hook. We always had two so we could switch when one got dirty. But I put it out of my mind figuring it must be in the wash.
I looked out of the porthole to see tiny dots of distant suns. I put on my suit and second by second more memories returned.
But the kid, he’s supposed to be here. His name is Svar… no Swar… shit. I can’t think straight.
I turned to my left and saw the pod where Swarcson went for hypersleep. I peered into the window where his face could usually be seen. But it was empty. I noticed his name was embossed into the top of the metal enclosure.
Swarcson. That’s it. Same name as my old neighbor when I was a kid.
It’s strange which memories return first after waking up blanked. I once awoke from hypersleep with nothing but the taste of chocolate ice cream on my lips. I had been dreaming of a far away memory when my mom took me to the ice cream shop as a kid.
This time, there was no memory of chocolate ice cream. My mouth tasted foreign like it didn’t belong to me.
I looked around for a glass of water. The hypersleep pods more or less keep you in stasis and recycle fluids to keep you hydrated. But still, there’s no thirst like the one you get after 8 months of no liquid touching your lips.
I walked towards the door figuring I wouldn’t find water—or Swarcson—or anything in this room. The door was automatic. There was no keycard to swipe like the ancient authors used to write about when they dreamed of future space travel.
Why would we need keycards? There was no one else on this ship other than Swarcson. No one that I’d need protection against or privacy from.
As I stepped out of the room, the door automatically sliding shut behind me, I was greeted by a voice. It wasn’t Swarcson’s voice. And it wasn’t human.
Good afternoon Officer. It’s lovely to see you today.
I span around to where the voice came from. But no one was there. Just a wall. The voice spoke out again. This time, I noticed it came from speakers hanging above my head. And there were more speakers evenly spaced going down the hall.
That’s when I remembered the computer.
Computer, what’s going on? Give me a status report on Swarcson.
My name is Sophia.
I didn’t remember it at the time, but S.O.P.H.I.A. stood for Sentient Organization & Processing Human Intelligence Algorithm.
As the name implied, it was designed to mimic human intelligence. Without the flaws of emotion, attachment, desire, and lust. According to The Solar Trading & Transport Company, Sophia posed no threat and always acted in the interests of crewmembers.
Although, rumors from deep space seemed to hint otherwise…
Sophia, I’m sorry, I seem to be a bit blanked. Where’s Swarcson? He wasn’t there to debrief me.
Swarcson? There’s no Swarcson on this ship.
What do you mean there’s no Swarcson on this ship? Where could he have gone to?
Sophia didn’t answer.
I began to get dizzy and leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor in a heap. Dizziness, headaches, nausea, and fatigue are all common symptoms of waking up blanked.
You seem unwell. Go to the infirmary immediately for care.
A light at the end of the hall began to flash. This was the computer’s way of guiding us through the giant ship.
The ship was made up of 12 identical and connected sections. Each section designed to house 1,000 people and destined for a plot of land on a colony planet on the far side of the Warshaw Quadrant. Each of the 12 sections was modeled on the low-income apartment buildings dotting cities on Earth. 12 carbon copies sailing through space with a single goal in mind.
The 12 sections were connected by a single unique housing unit at the center of the ship. This was our living quarters. The idea was to have everything we needed at the center of the ship. So that we were equidistant to any of the 12 sections as we went about our day.
There wasn’t a whole lot we had to do to fulfill our duties.
We were there to work with Sophia and make sure the housing units arrived in working condition where refugees to the colony planet were waiting to live in them.
The light down the hall continued to flash.
I just need some water and I’ll be ok.
I stood up, trying to remember where the kitchen was. That’s where the ship’s water recovery system would be. It recycled any bit of water on the ship. It recycled our urine, our sweat, and condensation from our breath.
Every drop was sacred and it made every drop count.
Sophia, I need water. Guide me to the kitchen.
The light down the hall continued to blink.
Request declined. Please go to the infirmary immediately.
Stupid emotionless computer, I thought to myself. It was programmed for one thing: See the mission through. That and keep us safe. Sometimes it accomplished this by ignoring our very human needs. Other times it accomplished this by straight up lying. It did whatever it had to do.
I stood up using the wall as a crutch and turned down the hall walking the opposite way of the blinking light. I couldn’t remember where the kitchen was. But the more I moved around the ship the more my memories would return.
Sophia’s voice followed me through the speakers telling me to go the opposite way. I ignored her.
I reached a door at the end of the hall and it slid open.
Sophia was one of the most powerful computers ever created. She controlled many of the functions of the ship. Navigation, some life support systems, maintenance sensors, energy conservation.
But because the ship was so massive and complicated, many secondary functions were automated by non-intelligent computer systems. Including the hypersleep pods, food and water systems, intra-ship transportation, and the automatic doors .
I stepped into the room, Sophia’s voice following me inside.
You are going the wrong way. Please go to the infirmary now.
I found myself I a large room that I immediately recognized as the command center. Sophia took care of 99% of flight and navigation. So the command center was mostly just to hold instruments that we used to manually keep track of key systems. Just a backup in case something with Sophia went awry.
The most striking part of the command center was the large window of alumino-silicate glass. The window wasn’t for helping us fly since Sophia had cameras installed on the exterior of the ship—although the window did help slightly when we landed. Mostly, the window was to give Swarcson and I a place to look when we felt claustrophobic on the ship.
A lot of the ship was designed with keeping us sane in mind.
It reminded me of something I once read in a history book about “The Great War” of the 19th century. And how during the war, militaries struggled to get their soldiers to kill the enemy. Which is why modern military training to this day is heavily based around turning an average kid into someone who is able and willing to kill.
The ship’s design was no different. Only instead of designing it to get us to kill, it was designed so we wouldn’t go insane.
Through the window I I saw a distant nebula. And of course, countless dots of light of far away suns. My lips were parched and my tongue felt swollen.
You are going the wrong way. Please go to the infirmary immediately.
Shut up!
I smashed my fist against the glass window. The thump dying in atomless space. I put my forehead against the cool glass staring at the metal floor. What’s happening, I thought. It’s not supposed to be like this.
It was at that moment that something tapped against the glass from the outside. I looked up. Staring at me were Swarcson’s cold eyes. A cracked grin on his frozen face, just visible beneath the glare on his visor. His body and head covered by his snow white spacesuit.
Swarcson’s expression was frozen. And I was frozen too. He floated out of sight of the window, the safety tether that kept him attached to the ship trailing behind like an umbilical.
Sophia… Swarcson… he’s outside. I just saw… he floated by.
Sophia!
No one is outside. You don’t seem to be doing well. Please go to the infirmary immediately.
That was something else they did to try and make the ship more human accommodating. They made Sophia say things like “please” and “thank you” and “how was your day?”
I felt my tongue like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. The dizziness was getting worse.
Sophia!
Once again I smashed my fist against the glass where moments before I had seen Swarcson drift by. But this time, I heard glass crack. I fell and began to see visions of myself in the kitchen, a broken coffee mug, yelling, falling, a clump of hair in my hands. I was so thirsty. I reached for water.
I opened my eyes and I was lying on the floor of the command center my hand extended in mid air. No hair in my hand. No crack in the glass. Just thirst.
You fell. Please go to the infirmary immediately.
I stood up and dusted myself off even though there was no dirt on the ship. Everything was kept perfectly clean and sterilized by the ship’s air filtration system.
Maybe I really am unwell, I thought. Maybe I should go to the infirmary.
I made my way to the door but as I did I saw something flash by the window out of the corner of my eye. I swore it was someone floating by in spacesuits. But when I turned, the window was empty.
The thirst continued rising up my throat.
I plodded down the hall. The hall that looked just like every other hall on this ship and the 12 attached sections. I sometimes walked those halls, the great empty apartment buildings in space. Not even a ghost to fight to keep my mind at bay. Just doors and doors and doors. Each one the same as the last. No way to tell the time or the distance or the passing of thoughts.
I’d sometimes open a door and walk in. I’d pretend like this room was my home. I would talk to my family that wasn’t there. Pretend to watch TV. Pet a non-existent dog. Sophia always told me it troubled her when I did this.
But how was she supposed to understand?
I walked down the hall, my thoughts passing from loneliness to thirst. The door slid open and I stepped inside.
Please lay down on the examination table. This will only take a second.
The infirmary was one of the bigger rooms in the living quarters. There was an examination table in the center with medical instruments that Sophia used to diagnose and even treat us if we happened to be sick.
The rest of the room was shelves used for storage. Mostly intended to be used for refugee first aid when we arrived to the colony planet.
Please lay down and I will assist you.
I didn’t lie down. Because sitting on a desk in the corner of the room was our standard black coffee mug with “STT” stamped on the side in gold. I walked over and grabbed the cup hoping for even a small sip of the precious liquid.
But of course, there was none. The water recovery system must’ve sucked the cup bone dry. The desert in my throat groaned.
I sighed. I guess maybe Sophia really is right.
I walked to the table and lied down.
Ok Sophia, I’ll trust you.
Good. I am just going to give you a sedative to help you relax. Then we’ll figure out what’s really going on here.
I lay back and saw a robotic hand move over me with a shiny needle in place. I knew Sophia was right. There was a standard protocol in place whenever someone was losing their marbles. The first step was to calm them down.
But still, something felt wrong. And as the robot arm got closer and closer and I could see light glinting off the liquid dripping from the needle I began to heard yelling down the hall.
Swarcson? Swarcson is that you?
I jumped off the table just in time to avoid the needle. And as I did my head started to spin. I saw Swarcson’s lifeless eyes, his cracked smile again. But this time, he wasn’t in his spacesuit. He was in his work suit. There were bruises around his neck. Hair missing from a bloody patch on his head.
The spinning stopped and I stood up running for the door. The yelling down the hall continued.
Stop! Please stop!
I heard it coming from down the hall, but it was so loud it felt like it was coming from my own lips.
Stop, please return to the infirmary.
Sophia said from behind.
I ran from one voice and towards another. But as I got closer the yelling stopped.
There it is, I thought to myself. The yelling was coming from behind the door. The kitchen, yes it must be. It’s coming back to me now. Is that where Swarcson is? Does he need help?
I stood a few steps away just outside the range of the sensor that would make the door open.
Do not go in there. Please. I’m asking you.
I turned around, looking at the speaker on the wall where Sophia’s voice came through.
Why?
You don’t want to see it. We’ve been through this before. I beg you.
I’ve never heard Sophia sound desperate. I didn’t know she was capable of emotion. Unless, this was yet another programming trick to make her seem more human.
Been through what before?
A wave of thirst hit me, doubling me over, I spun and saw visions again. I heard yelling through the door. I couldn’t take anymore.
Tell me!
Think about it. Try to remember. Try to remember who you are.
I’m Charold Hewz!
I straightened up and took two steps towards the door as it slid open with a casual shrrrrr.
It wasn’t until then that I realized how deeply entrenched in this nightmare I had truly become. For inside the kitchen there came no screaming. There came only a terrible smell. The smell of rotten flesh.
I heaved but nothing came out. There wasn’t enough water in my body to justify vomit. Hypersleep thirst was always bad, but this seemed somehow worse.
What’s in there?
You don’t want to know.
I slowly crept forward holding my sleeve over my face to stop the stench.
Please don’t go in there.
I got inside and turned to the left and saw him. Swarcson. At least, that’s who I thought he had been. For his eyes showed me there was no life in that skull. His cracked grin frozen as if he died telling a particularly raunchy joke.
I heaved again but nothing came up.
I got closer and saw the bruises on his neck. The bald patch of hair where blood once dripped. I saw the shattered coffee mug on the floor. I looked at my hands.
Who did this?
Isn’t it obvious?
Sophia, who did this?
Sophia!
You did it. It was you.
The room spun. I felt like crying. But I had no liquid left to give. It came back to me slowly at first. And then rapidly memories emerged. I watched as I wandered the halls talking to myself. I watched as I yelled through the halls, Sophia begging me to go to the infirmary. I watched as I wrote schizophrenic thoughts in my journal that even now I can’t understand.
Then I watched as Swarcson emerged from his hyperspace pod. I watched myself sitting in the chair across from him with a crazy look. I watched as Swarcson grew sacred. As I took out a knife. As we fought. I watched as he knocked the knife out of my hand and ran down the wall. I watched as I caught him in the kitchen, as I ripped out his hair, as I strangled him till he gurgled his last breath.
I fell to my knees.
I looked up at Swarcson one final time. And that’s when I realized, it wasn’t Swarcson at all. It was me, Charold Hewz. At least, that’s what it said on his nametag.
You finally understand. You’re Swarcson. You killed Hewz and in your mania jumped into his hypersleep pod.
I crawled out of the room far enough to get away from the smell. I wanted to heave. But I felt too weak to even muster that. I sat there as everything came back and began to make sense.
There’s still one thing I don’t understand. What did you mean that we’ve done this all before?
Sophia was silent.
Sophia… tell me, please.
Sophia’s voice came through the speaker after a moment’s delay.
Think about the body. Think how long it would take to reach that state of decay in the sterility of the ship. No bugs to eat it. No animal to break it down. Think how long he’s been dead.
My mind flashed and more memories emerged. I saw myself climb into Hewz’s pod… then my pod… then Swarcson’s… then mine… the nightmare continuing in waves.
It’s been five years since we left Earth.
And I killed Charold Hewz nearly three years ago.
My life has been a living nightmare ever since. It was only two weeks ago that I came to realize the true state the nightmare was in. According to Sophia, I’ve been forced to rediscover my sin 3 times now. And each time she said I handled it better than the time before.
The last two weeks have been the hardest weeks of my life. And I’ve come to a decision against Sophia’s will. In this soberness of thought, I’ve decided to end this nightmarish cycle.
There will not be a next time.
After I finish recording this, I will don my spacesuit and cut the safety tether before exiting the craft through the automated door. I will jump from the craft one final time. Choosing to meet my fate in the empty void of space rather than meet a jury of my peers upon landing on the colony planet.
I hear Hewz’s pleas for help even as I write this. Though I now recognize this as nothing more than a phantom of my own weakening brain.
In a few moments time, I will carefully don my spacesuit and leap boldly into the depths of that celestial shrine; to entomb my sin in the silent secret of unfathomed space and uncounted years.