Derelict

Heavy footfalls resound on iron hull plating. Synthetic fingertips brush frost. Bionic eyes scan cracked metal for internal damage. Old boots wear their prints fourteen nanometers deeper into the floor.

The android concludes its walk at the bridge. The only light comes from the communications terminal. Ice cracks in the keyboard and a familiar “ping” sounds as the distress call broadcasts across all subspace frequencies. The signal will repeat for one hour. After that, the bridge will fall silent for five days. Then, the android will try again.

It boots up another terminal and runs a diagnostic on all critical systems. At the current rate of consumption, all power and fuel will be depleted in twelve years, four months, three days. That time can be extended by five years if life support was abandoned, but the android has grown accustomed to the weight of gravity and air.

There is little comfort to find on an abandoned starship. The smell of humans gives way to that of rust. There are no conversations overheard in the corridors. Variations on routine, dictated by nothing more than that untenable concept “emotion.” CZ-23 has never understood its nature, but it misses the effects it had on the crew.

A new ping comes from the communications terminal. It is a deviation from the past seven years of monotony, one of great significance. CZ-23 simulates the reactions of the crew to such a disturbance. Lieutenant Benara would gasp. Captain Frakes would clap her on the shoulder. First Officer Keller would signal the crew and cheers would ring out across every deck. Salvation has made contact.

The ping echoes in an empty room. CZ-23 allows itself a nod and returns to the terminal.

“This is starship Goliath, returning distress call. Please acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged, Goliath. This is the starship Ancillary. Requesting assistance.”

“What’s the condition of the crew?”

“There are no survivors.”

“You’re the ship’s android?”

“That is correct.”

There is a long moment of silence. CZ-23 surmises that the bridge crew is debating the relative value of undertaking a rescue operation for a derelict starship and its solitary keeper.

“We’ll dispatch a survey crew to evaluate the damage. They should reach you in three days, can you hold out until then?”

“You may rest assured knowing that I can ‘hold out’ for as long as is necessary.”

“Acknowledged. We’ll be in contact.”

The connection is severed. The android allows itself a wholy illogical decision: it smiles, just to see how it feels.