By Tim Borella

The Vault shines like a teardrop at the end of a kilometre-long tunnel protruding from the gleaming starship Aton. Delphine Starboard Blue Gamma fidgets as her transit pod closes in. She’s been chosen to make this special inspection trip with Commander Schaefer, the Chief Engineer, who has been surprisingly chatty on intersuit comms.

“I was raised in a starboard creche too, Orange deck,” he says. “I’ve visited Blue many times, though not lately.” Delphine mumbles a reply. A knot of disquiet nests inside, despite her breezy banter with friends over firstmeal.

“I hear the Vault’s dangerous. If you don’t come back, can I have your cabin?” Jonas had said.

“Funny. Maybe I’ll get yours, if one of your perilous galley-replenishment missions goes wrong. Not that I’d want that pokey little hole.”

“Ha ha. But seriously, you’re not worried?”

“Of course not,” she’d scoffed. “Any role has hazards. Look at hull repair, or dispute management. They have more incidents than us.”

“Incidents. Engineer-speak for deaths, right?”

“Maybe, but so what? A ship as big and complex as this, shit’s bound to happen sometimes.”

Indeed. Aton, their generational ark, sails the depths between stars, far from any external aid. It’s a self-contained world, and as in any world, death is as natural as life. But Delphine’s not dwelling on that. Soon, she’ll see Aton’s secret beating heart for herself.

The pod docks with a thump. The Commander keys a pad, shows his visored face to a screen, and the hatchway slides aside. The Captain is the only other person with access to the Vault, and not for the first time, Delphine wonders why. She knows about her Earthbound forebears’ struggle to be first to the resource-rich gas giants, but why hide secrets now? Their technology won the race, then springboarded them to interstellar travel. Aton, enroute to the promising Epsilon Eridani system, is the result.

Schaefer ushers Delphine through another hatch.It’s like entering an abstract art gallery, walls covered in weird hieroglyphics. She looks askance at the Commander, and is shocked to see him removing his radiation suit.

“You too,” he says. “No need for these.” It feels totally wrong, but he’s the boss. They continue down a corridor in their light coveralls.

After some disorienting twists and turns, there’s another door, huge and imposing. This must be the Vault proper, home to the all-powerful star drive. Surely they should be suited up? But Schaefer’s already punched the keypad. The massive door opens.

Delphine looks through, but instead of the gleaming gantries, tubes, and beam concentrators she’s seen in sims, there’s no hint of technology. Instead, a wide arena, covered in — sand? — with a central high bench. A vast dome soars above. She turns to Schaefer, questions freezing on her tongue. He has a laser cutter trained on her forehead.

“Clothes off,” Schaefer orders. “All of them.” 

What? Delphine’s stomach flips. He advances, face set. His next words chill her even further. “Accept that you’re not leaving here alive. It’ll be easier if you do.”

Delphine’s voice shakes. “Easier? What? You can’t be …”

“Hurry,” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

“You don’t want to hurt me? You just said you’re going to kill me!”

Surprisingly, his face softens. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You deserve an explanation. First, tell me what you know about the star drive.”

As if in a dream, Delphine speaks. “Self-sustaining matter-antimatter annihilation in magnetic containment, with induction transfer.”

“Very good. Unfortunately, it’s all lies,” Schaefer says. Keeping the cutter aimed, he opens a chest by the bench and pulls out a black robe, trimmed with shining gold symbols. Next, a wicked, sinuous knife. “Our best scientists were like cave dwellers meddling in matters they couldn’t possibly understand. By blind luck, during an experiment so powerful it stretched dimensional membranes to breaking point, a jealous scientist murdered his rival. And the glorious truth,” … his voice rises to a crescendo… “was revealed!” He brandishes the knife, and a grinding metallic sound fills the arena. The very air seems to congeal into a loathsome, dark presence.

“Behold the mighty god Aton, source of ultimate power!” Schaefer shouts. “We are all creatures of light, and Aton must feed!” The grinding pummels Delphine’s ears.

 “Now,” Schaefer orders, “Clothes off! Lie on the altar! Aton’s gift — our continued existence — relies on proper ritual. I’ll kill you right here if I have to, and he’ll grant us power for a few months, but then one of your colleagues must take this trip with me. Your full compliance will give us a year or more.”

“But … why me?”

“Ah. You’re a good student, but that’s irrelevant. All those tests you took had one grand purpose … to measure your life force. Ancient civilisations knew the power of sacrifice, but used it blindly. We know better!” There’s a blinding flash. “Never forgetting, of course,” Schaefer hurriedly adds, “that we are as puny insects compared to mighty Aton!”

It’s now or never. Delphine delivers a crunching kick to Schaefer’s groin. The laser cutter drops and she snatches it up, slicing the beam across his arm. As he staggers back against the altar, his severed hand, still clutching the knife, falls at Delphine’s feet. 

There’s no going back. “Strip,” she growls. “Get on the altar.” His face contorts in agony, but there’s the hint of a smile. “Well … done …” he manages. Keeping her gaze well north of Schaefer’s belly, she raises the knife high and plunges it deep into his heart. Words come, unbidden. “Mighty Aton, accept this offering!”

Electricity crackles around and fiendish laughter fills the air. Delphine hears footsteps behind her and whirls. It’s the Captain, as calm as if she’s taking a stroll on the recreation deck.

“Delphine, is it? I didn’t see this coming, but it’s actually a very good outcome. Schaefer was getting a bit past it anyway.” She smiles and extends a hand.

“Congratulations, Chief Engineer!”

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