P In Space No One Can Hear Your Fanaticism.


I’m not going the same way as Clarke, Kline thought, as he knocked the notebook off the console. Clarke’s carelessness had cost her life on their previous mission. The notebook’s screen cracked as it hit the floor.

“Shit,” Kline said.

“Be more careful Kline,” Deli ordered. “That notebook could contain vital information.”

“See if it still works,” Bilge ordered.

Kline picked it up. Its back fell out, exposing wires.

“It’s broke,” Kline said, trying not to sound gleeful.

“We’ll have to get Bolcher to look at it, when he gets there.”

The lights flickered on and then died.

“Lights should be back on,” Bolcher declared.

“They were briefly,” Kline said.

“Yeah, I expected most of them to blow.”

“Bolcher, head to the lab, Kline’s broken a notebook which might contain some vital information,” Bilge ordered.

“On my way.”

“Kline, you might as well search the crew quarters.”

“Why, we found all the bodies?” Kline said.

“There might be something in their quarters that tells us what happened here.”

“No, something bad has gone down there,” Deli interrupted. “Those people were trying to get at Symcox for some reason. It looks like a mutiny to me. There is no telling what they might have in their quarters. Send in the probe.

Kline breathed a sigh of relief.


Kline watched the video relay from the probe on his heads up display. The probe had just entered Symcox’s five metres long by four metres wide cabin. It was purely functional - bunk, cupboard, drawers and a desk with a built in screen. There were a few data disks on the shelves behind the desk. Her lump free bunk was made in impeccable military style. Kline imagined a pair of shiny dress boots under the bed.

Something glinted. “Was that a wire?” Kline asked.

“Where?” Deli said.

“Down at floor level.”

The wire glinted again. The probe stopped and hoovered over it.

“Looks like someone rigged her room,” Deli said.

“Why would someone do that?” Bilge asked.

“Same reason they were trying to get into the lab,” Kline said.

“This notebook is had it. The cold’s corrupted its data disk,” Bolcher interrupted.

“Darn,” Deli used the nearest word she had to swearing.

With the notebook destroyed and the base's data storage erased the chances of finding out what happened had diminished. It looked like another highly successful Echo platoon venture, Kline thought.