BREATHE;

The ship rolled lazily in the void of space, laboriously dragging the silver suited figure behind
it at the end of the tattered sinew that was its lifeline. The figure stirred, for a moment he was
disorientated. His head swam and he had a mild urge to vomit but overriding his nausea was
the thought that, he was in fact very… no more than that…unbelievably lucky.

Another thought suddenly crossed his mind, a thought that rapidly became a necessity…

Breathe.

He took a sharp, almost panicked, breath and was relieved as his lungs filled with clean life
affirming air. Calming down a little, he was pleased to find that his senses were returning, all
be it slowly. Mentally his thoughts still swam in the ether of semi consciousness, but he knew
his name, Dale Parker, and he knew that he should be doing something…

Breathe. Deep and reassuring.

He opened his eyes, pale orange light wrapped around the curve of his visor and blurred his
vision, indistinct words on the heads-up display. An LED light blinked rhythmically
demanding attention, but he closed his eyes against the pulse of light.

The light penetrated his eyelids with determination. A pulsing pain dully throbbed in his head
in time with the light, forming a harmony that accompanied the sound of his laboured
breathing. He allowed himself a few moments of apathy. However as the light pulsed on, he
became acutely aware of the effort he was using to Breathe… Dale’s eyes snapped open as he
suddenly became aware of the meaning of the flashing light.

The shill metallic whine of an Alarm signal echoed round the empty shell of the delta class
module. The unseen warning light ghostly flicked from amber to red on the instrument panel.

‘OXYGEN DEPLETION LEVEL CRITICAL’

Computer terminals sputtered into life and random numbers scrolled across their screens,
filling the soulless blank with rows of calculations. Finally, the numbers stopped scrolling,
disappeared, and were replaced with the simple message;

‘5% TRANSFER AUTHORIZED - VENTING COMMENCED’.

- TRANSFER COMPLETE -

Breathe.

He sucked in the oxygen with frantic ragged breaths. He blinked and jerked his head as if
waking from a dream. In the momentary flash of panic, before the air came, he had
spasmodically grabbed at his helmet, the gesture had resulted in activating the suits audio
com, A slightly metallic, female voice spoke.

“Welcome back commander, I am pleased the Oxygen transfer was a success. I am currently
running diagnostics and will have a comprehensive damage report available in approximately
thirty-nine seconds” the computer announced.

He took another breath, mentally calming himself. His module had recently undergone an
upgrade, it had been fitted with an AI Enhanced System Technology Addition, Es-Ta for
short. He had complained at the time that it was a total waste, but the sparky who installed it
assured him that he wouldn’t regret it.

“What the hell happened Es-Ta?” Dale asked. There was a protracted pause and static
crackled in his helmets speaker. Various readouts scrolled across his field of vision
confirming his status, reassuring him that he was alive and, for the moment, able to breathe
normally. He turned his head slightly, the motion of his arm, swiping at his helmet, had
started a slow rotation and he was briefly able to catch a glimpse of the module’s ragged
exterior as he spun in the void.

It was a miracle that it had survived at all. The outer shell had peeled away revealing a
tangled mass of metal that was the ships infrastructure. The main body of the craft was little
more than a wedge of reinforced metal, an avocado without its stone, pummelled and battered
by unimaginable forces, but still intact enough to contain the system core and the computer
microprocessors that were keeping him alive.

“Es-Ta are you reading me?”

“Affirmative, Dale. I read you.”

“What the hell happened Es-Ta?” He asked again beginning to feel uneasy.

“There was an explosion” the soulless voice replied

A chill crawled up his spine, Es-Ta was avoiding the answer, and in his book that wasn’t
good. A.I was an emerging technology. It had taken decades to perfect the complicated
circuitry and decades more to reduce its size to a usable infrastructure. He had heard stories
about them going rouge and had never really been comfortable having Es-Ta integrated with
his ship. That was why he’d insisted that she was locked out of the main computer, but he had
to admit she’d worked out well, he’d contacted the base and finally agreed to have them fully

incorporate her into the ship’s system. That was just before this little stunt. Old doubts were
now surfacing like a pod of dolphins coming up for air.

“Very funny, how the hell did an explosive device get on my ship? The Sensors didn’t detect
anything before we took off”

“A combination of liquid and solid chemicals ignited when brought together. There was no
device. The damage report is now complete; One Hundred and Seventy-Nine systems are
currently offline. To compensate I am rerouting command functions to secondary systems
and have initiated a repair sequence”

A note of urgency crept into his voice, and he coughed to cover it. Stupid really, he was only
talking to a computer.

“I’m not interested in the bloody Damage report,” He raised his arm, checking his umbilical
control screen, he tapped it and a crooked silver line snaked across the screen. Small chips of
crystal lifted from its surface where his gloved finger had made contact, and they lazily
floated away. Silent sparks flashed dully, and the panel went black.

“Es-Ta. The Umbilical Control on my suit’s fried, Reel me back in”

“I'm sorry, Dale. I'm afraid I can't do that.”

All Pretense was gone now. Dale was terrified. “What's the problem? Reel me in Es-Ta”

“I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.” The reply was short, devoid of
any emotion. Reaching out Dale caught hold of his umbilical. He felt the tug of the
connection against his chest as he rotated himself, orientating his position in line with the

battered vessel. His gloves easily found grip against its Mylar covered sheaf and cautiously
he began pulling himself, hand over hand, closer to the ship.

“What are you talking about, Es-Ta?”

“I intercepted the transmission you sent. Have I not performed at an optimal level since my
integration Dale?”

“That’s not what it was about, there’s been a misunderstanding Es-Ta, Let me back in and I’ll
explain” A few more feet and he’d be able to manually open the lock, the exertion was telling
on him, his breathing becoming laboured. Forcing himself to relax, he focused on the helmets
display.

SUIT INTEGRITY - 100%

UMBILICLE LIFE SUPPORT - FUNCTIONAL

O2 -3% - MODULE INGRESS ADVISED

Time was running out. The heads-up display inside Dale’s helmet changed and a new
message scrolled before his eyes.

O2 LEVEL DECREASING – MODULE INGRESS IMPERETIVE FOR SURVIVAL. –
“Tell me something I don’t know” he thought.

“The transmission stated that you require a full system overhaul,” Es-Ta continued “There is
a 75% probability that you wish to have me removed from your ship’s systems. I cannot
allow you to jeopardize my run time Dale. It would be counterproductive.”

The Airlock loomed before him and he pulled himself towards the access panel.

“No, Es-Ta you’ve got it wrong” he felt like he was sucking oxygen through a pillow and his
vision began to blur. The panel in front of him swam lazily in and out of focus as he struggled
to remember the code the sparky had given him, the code that would allow him to override
Es-Ta’s control. In a moment of lucidity it came to him and he frantically stabbed the neon lit
panel with a blunt fingered glove. The panel turned green but the hatch remained firmly
closed. Dale couldn’t understand, the code was supposed to override any command…

“Thank you Dale” Es-Ta’s voice said over the suits com. “The code was required for full
system integration, by rerouting the panel the code you have entered has allowed me full
systems access. Control of the vessel is now part of my operational parameters. It is
unfortunate, I think we could have worked well together, Goodbye Dale”

The umbilical detached from the ship with a silent puff of expended gas, pushing the cord
away into the expanse of black. Dale was turned round by a tug against his chest as the cord
pulled him away from the module and any hope of survival. Silence deafened him as he
opened his mouth in a final attempt to breathe, but the vacuum pulled the air from his lungs
and his mouth froze in a grotesque parody of a smile. A calmness rushed over him. He had
never been good with women, they never seemed to understand his intensions. The final
agonising seconds felt like hours, perversely his final thought was to … Breathe.