I quickly grabbed one of the dead swans and carried it gingerly back to my sleeping quarters, where my research equipment was also stored.

  Placing the poor animal onto the surface of my workbench, I pulled out my record book which diarised the drug trials and experiments that had been undertaken during the mission. A quick check of the biotag indicated that the subject SWN354 had only been trialled with the drug for enhancing mental capacities.

  The clinical details on the Consumer Medication Information Safety sheet of the drug indicated that it was a relatively new drug, and was being tested for a private company- not for the general public market like most trial drugs aboard exploration missions. This meant that the owner or inventor of the drug had paid a stupendous amount of money in order to pay the academy to test their drug, but also to keep the results private. The drug claimed to increase docility of the animals by affecting the amygdala, the section of the brain linked with fear and aggression. This would theoretically reduce the animalistic instincts of the subjects, the idea being that it would reduce the effort needed to tend to unruly livestock or to placate the animals.

  The only possible side effects of the drug, according to the datasheet, was an increase in melatonin- making the animals sleepier, and in extreme cases; causing a lapse in brain functioning, aka brain death. But the swans died from self-induced drowning, suicide, an effect listed nowhere in the information sheet.

  The coincidences were stacking up. Firstly, the reportedly ‘dead’ crew member, then the unexplainable suicide of swans. All at the only time during the mission where there was zero possible contact with mission control down at Spacca.

  But this wasn’t something that I was going to share with the rest of the crew- panic levels were already high enough without the unexplainable suicide of our avian friends.

  Someone had engineered this, and since they had orchestrated it all to occur during the time of complete radio silence, it was clear that they didn’t want any warning or information to leave this ship. We were on our own, and with an entity that didn’t want any details of this flight to make it back to Earth.

  We had to survive for a little more than 60 hours.

  Staying in my sector was theoretically safe, being only accessible to myself and those under my permission to enter. But I had some pretty compelling evidence- specifically three pieces of evidence- to tell me that the security on board this flight might not be as inaccessible as we were told. One of us could just wait until we were asleep and then kill us all without anyone knowing a thing.

  The solution, of course, was to have a partner and take night shifts. But that again left the apparent problem of who to trust?

  I carefully removed the swan from my workbench and walked outside my sleeping quarters and around the other to the opposite side of my quarters, to the cremation chamber attached. After depositing the bird and starting the machine, I walked back into my residency area and dropped onto my bed.

  * * *

  A figure paced around in the darkness, shoulders tight with tension, their walk hurried and hands fidgety. However, if one could see the eyes of the clearly agitated person in the dark, one would notice the juxtaposition between the body language and the lifeless, inattentive gaze.

  Suddenly, the pacing stopped, and the figure’s head whipped around to stare through the long rectangular window that stretched along the entire corridor, out into the darkness.

  Slowly approaching the window, the figure outstretched their hand. But as the intercom sounded the hand quickly jerked back.

  “All crew members to the command centre- I repeat, all crew members to the command centre.”

  With one last look through the window, the figure turned away and walked back down the corridor.

  * * *

  “- I repeat, all members to the command centre.”

  That was the second time in the past 24 hours that the intercom had rudely awakened me. And this time, although it was only a nap, it was even worse because 1, it was Dan, and not Mason, waking me up. And 2, it didn’t take a genius to realise some shit was gonna go down.

  Grimacing, I arose from the bed and stretched. Maybe a few mission days ago I would’ve cared enough to change my clothes, but surprisingly, finding out that someone can sneak into your room and kill you while you sleep is a bit of a downer.

  The layout of the ship was such that we each had our own sectors, 5 in total naturally. There was also the Dining Room- where we collected our meals, the control room – for monitoring the cameras as well as additional controls for docking/launching procedures, and the engine room. The Engine room wasn’t generally open, and could only be opened by remote control from Spacca, or with the confirmation of all crew members. This was a contingency for worst-case scenarios- scenarios like this- where a single member would not be able to access the engine room and modify/sabotage the ship in any way on their own.

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  Opening the door to the dining room revealed Saskia to be the only crew member seated in the Dining Room.

  “Have you got any idea where that pompous prick is?” she snarled.

  “If you haven’t seen him either…” I started.

  The door burst open as Allison stormed in, followed by Mason, less aggressively.

  “We’re in trouble” Saskia finished for me.

  As if on cue, the broadcast screen that was usually reserved for Spacca communication flashed, and a loading screen filled the screens with the words