Proxima Bound

By Davi Mai

PROXIMA BOUND by Davi Mai.

 

Humanity's last hope rests with the colonists aboard the generational starship Attenborough. Bound for Proxima Centauri, a thousand years away. Catastrophe strikes when a reactor meltdown cuts off those in the ship's front from the rear. Two factions must now struggle to survive.

 

With four hundred years still to travel, we join a plucky teenager, "Thief". She's found a way through the ventilation system, around the radioactive core of the ship and into the front sections. Thief brings back vital components that might help the rear-dwellers connect the ship's computer. For the first time in hundreds of years, there is hope.

 

But people are disappearing without a trace, and the makeshift hospital is overflowing with cases of a new virus.

It's up to Thief to embark on her toughest mission yet. To crawl through the bowels of the ship, the furthest she's ever been, and find some answers, before there's no-one left alive.

 

What she finds at the front of the ship, however, is terrifying

• Language: English
• Publisher: Davi Mai
• Release date: Jan 24, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393538578

Book preview

Chapter One: Thief

YEAR 193AC (AFTER CATACLYSM) Day 102

Deck 53. Mid-Section G. Approaching engineering storage

Thief crawled through the hot ventilation shaft. In the dark, she wriggled out of her jumpsuit, making the heat more bearable; but one discomfort replaced another, as scrawny knees and elbows rubbed against aluminium pipework. Her skin, slick with sweat, squeaked against the metal with each wriggle forward. She feared one of them might hear her laboured breathing and squeaking skin; she told herself for the hundredth time, that perhaps they’d put the noise down to rats, or the ship’s machinery. Would they be able to smell her though? The cloying odour of her physical labour filled the shaft. Would it seep out and waft into their nostrils? She imagined them sniffing her scent in the air; their lips curling back over white fangs as they arched their heads towards the vents, grinning with delight at the promise of fresh blood.

The pipe split in two, a fact Thief discovered by banging her bald head into the junction— not for the first time. It knocked another ounce of courage from the brave teenager; she decided it was time to rest and get her bearings.

She twisted over in the tight space to lie on her back, giving both knees blessed rest. Retrieving the map and homemade matches, from the plastic bag knotted around her ankle, she waited and listened. The only detectable sound — the constant background hum that pervaded all life on board. Content that nobody was nearby, she struck a match against the metal wall. It sputtered to life, casting a weak glow over the map. A second later the flame died, but that brief illumination was enough. She identified the junction and sighed with relief; another hundred feet and she’d be above the engineering section.

A while later, she prised open a mesh grill and lowered herself into the void below.

Steal me anything that looks electronic. Johan had requested before she left. But only if it’s easy to grab. Don’t take things apart, you’ll make too much noise.

Landing on the balls of her feet, Thief remained in a tight crouch for a good minute. She held her breath, again waiting to see if they had heard her; waiting for one of them to pounce from a dark corner. No attack came, and she breathed a little easier.  Another match flare showed the walls lined with storage capsules, much like those in Johan’s workshop. She checked the rad counter on her skinny wrist. The digits kept changing, it couldn’t make its mind up between 38 and 39 rads. Either way, she wasn’t receiving a harmful dose of gamma rays—yet.

The capsules opened with a soft hiss of escaping air; their contents preserved for centuries in vacuum. She filled her bag with a mixture of components, ignoring those that she thought Johan already had. Cables, motherboards, processors and memory chips all went into the bag; along with something that resembled a handheld scanner. When its sides threatened to split under the weight, she closed the capsules and clambered back up through the open grill.

The return trip was more awkward; sometimes dragging her haul, other times shoving it on ahead. The narrow metal tubes seemed to squeeze tighter and tighter. The bag’s rustling and her heavy breathing echoed through the network of ventilation shafts. She expected claws to grab her ankle at any moment and drag her backwards, screaming.

DECK 53. REAR SECTION L. Johan’s workshop

Three hours later, with no matches left to check the map— and panic setting in— Thief scratched her arm on rough edges in the pipe’s surface. The stinging pain felt glorious; it signalled home territory! She backed up and ran her fingertips over the markings. Triangles and numbers etched into the metal showed which turns to take up ahead. Reassurance washed away the panic and soon she was lowering the bag to an anxious Johan. He too, was covered in sweat; it glistened on his bald head and face. His round glasses threatened to slide off his nose and sweat darkened the armpits of his faded blue jumpsuit. She figured he’d been doing his pacing again.

I thought they got you! he exclaimed, helping her down.

Nah, not a chance, Thief said in the most confident voice she could muster, it’s getting hotter in there though, as you get close to Engineering. Any idea why?

Johan grabbed her wrist and checked the accumulated gamma exposure. He winced. We think they’re shutting down more of the temp regulators up their way. Could be they don’t expect to go near that section. That would be wonderful news for us. Or could be they’re trying to conserve power, which is likely bad news for everyone. We all need power. Them, us, even your fellow rats.

Hey, you calling me a rat? Thief pouted. You be careful, or I might not steal any more treasure for you!

But she knew that wasn’t true. Proud of her abilities and status, she’d go on as many thieving missions as he wanted. Few people had a nickname as well deserved as hers— she intended to live up to it.

Johan pushed his glasses up his nose and rummaged through the haul, sorting the stolen pieces into different piles. Tucked away here in his workshop, the techie did not entertain visitors— except for Thief.  He tutored her on electronics, computers, and how things worked. Not to mention the ship’s history.

So tell me, young Thief, how is the ship powered? He examined the handheld scanner she’d stolen.

Thief smiled. She loved his little quizzes. Several nuclear reactors. She squinted in thought. They heat a special fuel mixture, mostly hydrogen, that drives propulsion engines.

And?

Oh, and they also generate electricity that powers the life-support systems and such. Although a lot of that isn’t working since the Cataclysm.

Which was when?

Thief glanced around the workshop for a calendar. Dates, and even time, was not something she worried about. She took a guess. Two hundred years ago. It killed my great, great, great, great grandparents.... no wait, there might be another ‘great’. I’m not sure. Hmm...

Johan smiled. It’s okay. Most people have forgotten details like that. The cataclysm killed many people, close to half of us. Anyway, your answer was near enough. At least one of those reactors had a meltdown. We’re pretty sure the engines are still running. But yes, a lot of systems crashed. And with the reactors located in the centre, the rear of the ship is now cut off from the front.

Not for me, it isn’t! Thief puffed her chest out. Only for fatties like you that can’t fit through the pipes. Ha!

Hey, I’m not fat! Johan looked at his stomach. Far from obese, like most of the colonists, he was borderline malnourished.

I’m kidding ya.

Okay, last question for now... How far are we from Proxima Centauri?

Thief’s shoulders slumped. While she loved his quizzes, she hated questions like that one. It depressed her, knowing that she’d never get to see their ultimate destination. The far off, almost mythical star system, that her ancestors had built this ship to colonise. She sighed. Still over four hundred years?

"Yep.