Drifting Darkly

By Dana Gricken

What would you do if you were stranded out in space?

 

The spaceship Einstein, the first of its kind, left Earth with one mission: to find out what lies beyond our solar system. Led by a team of highly-trained professionals and a helpful virtual intelligence, everyone thought it would be a success. But they were wrong. Six years later, the Einstein is stranded hundreds of light-years from home. They've lost communication, navigation, and helm control. Everyone back on Earth believes they're dead. The worst part is, no one onboard can figure out why they're still stuck and unable to return home.

While the hopeless crew has accepted their fate, Communications Officer Jan Barrett hasn't. Her investigation leads her to unravel the truth—that their ship's malfunctions were sabotage. Someone onboard is keeping the Einstein adrift in space—and they have no intention of ever letting go...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dana Gricken
• Release date: Mar 15, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224068920

Dana Gricken

Dana Gricken is a multi-genre author from Ottawa, Canada. She has written many novels including fantasy and mystery and has more books coming out soon. When not writing and reading voraciously, she enjoys watching Star Trek, hanging out with her cats, cooking and baking, spreading kindness online, and playing video games. Check her out at danagricken.com.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Personal log: Jan Barrett , ship’s communications officer. I haven’t updated this thing in a long time—been busy—but let me rehash the story. And damn, is it a wild story. Let me go back to where it all began...

DAY 2,240 OF DRIFTING. It never gets any easier.

It’s been a little over six years since we became stranded in outer space—lightyears from home, on the first spaceship known as the Einstein, designed to explore beyond Earth’s solar system. The others have given up hope of ever getting rescued but I haven’t.

I can’t—not when there’s so much at stake.

I wake up in my cot in the barracks, alone and cold. Space is freezing and blankets are sparse around here, so I gave one of mine to the children. My heart aches the most when I think about them. Their parents decided to join the Einstein to search for new planets outside our solar system, not them. They deserve better.

My bunkmate, Dr. Marcus Randall, has already left for his shift. He’s one of the few medical doctors aboard the Einstein. If we were to lose him as we’d lost some of the others, I don’t know what we’d do. That would mean death for us all.

I can’t deny he’s attractive with his dark curly hair, tan skin, and big chocolate eyes. His compassion and attention to detail reminds me of my husband, David, who I left behind on Earth. If I close my eyes tight, I can still see David’s face in my mind.

He probably thinks I’m dead by now. Everyone on Earth most likely does, and we can’t even send a signal to tell them we’re not. It gets depressing to think about.

Good morning, Jan, Eve says in her pleasant, soothing voice from overhead. How did you sleep?

Fine, I mumble, forcing myself to get out of bed.

Eve is our ship’s virtual intelligence—the first ever designed. Her core is down in engineering but her wires stretch all around the ship. NASA created her specifically for our mission. I thought if anyone could get us back to Earth, it would be her. But like everyone else, she’s at a loss as to why we’re stuck out here, too.

Her audio and visual banks don’t work in the private quarters and bathrooms, but I keep her functional in forbidden areas through my tablet—which I’m sure the captain wouldn’t approve of, citing privacy concerns. But we have bigger problems to worry about. It’s just nice to have her there—a reminder that I’m not alone.

I brush my teeth and smooth down my hair in the mirror, swerving out of the way of the other soldiers in the barracks. I cut most of my blond hair off, leaving a pixie cut in its place. Less of a hassle to maintain. Most of the woman I was before is gone—changed. And I’m not just talking about my hairstyle.

When I have my uniform on, I walk out into the corridor. The mornings (are there even mornings in space?) are usually hectic so I try to stay out of everybody’s way. With a complement of two-thousand and fifty people, invading someone’s personal space is common. I nod politely and say hello to everyone I pass. The only upside to imprisonment on this ship is that it allowed me to know everyone—to befriend them all.

At this point, we’re our own little family.

Every morning before I tend to my duties, I visit the Grieving Zone. It’s a small room on deck six. And when I arrive, I realize I’m not the only one who had the idea to come here. It’s usually busy, filled with many crying people, and today is no exception.

Old photographs, names, and mementos of loved ones back on Earth decorate the walls. Our ship’s psychiatrist, Dr. Carol Warren, suggested we add the room to help with the grieving process. The aura in here is different, darker. It’s like a funeral for our past lives.

I find David’s picture on the wall right where I left it. As I caress his photograph, my mind transports me to a happier place. One back on Earth, when I was in his arms. I bet he’s gotten more handsome with age. Maybe he’s grown out his beard, gone a little grey. I close my eyes again, imagining what we’d be doing right now if I came home.

But the tap on my shoulder forces me back to reality. I’m about to yell at whoever interrupted, but I notice it’s Commander Amanda Neville when I turn around. She’s second-in-command to Captain Jarvis, so I salute immediately. She’s beautiful—red hair, deep green eyes, porcelain skin. Rumor has it that she and Captain Jarvis are more than professional, but it’s none of my business. I can see why he’d like her, though—strong, smart, beautiful. If they managed to find each other during all this chaos, then I was happy for them.

When she notices my salute, she chuckles and shakes her head. I fear I’ve done something wrong, and it probably shows on my face. I’ve never been good at hiding things.

No need to be so formal, Jan. When we’re in the Grieving Zone, titles seem to fade away, she says, touching a photograph on the wall. Pain reminds us that we’re all the same.

The photograph she touches is an elderly couple on a porch swing. I blurt out before I can stop myself, who are they?

She sighs, avoiding my eyes. My parents. They were so proud the day they found out I was second-in-command on humanity’s first spaceship. Turns out it was a little premature. Now we’re stranded—and the mission was a failure.

Well, back on Earth, I’m sure your parents are still proud of you. They probably think of you every time they look up at the stars, I say gently. You tried your best—we all did. You couldn’t have predicted what’d happen. No one could’ve.

She goes quiet for a few moments. Maybe you’re right. I’ll think on that. Anyway, my personal life isn’t why I came to find you.

Oh? What’s wrong, Commander?

Nothing, per se. Captain Jarvis just wants to see you on the bridge immediately.

I swallow. Am I...in trouble?

No, of course not. You’d be heading that way for your duties, right? He just wanted to talk to you. Breathe, Jan—nothing to worry about.

I take several deep breaths. Okay. I can do that.

She walks to the door, standing in the archway. And Barrett?

I look back at her. Yes, ma’am?

She smiles. Thanks for the kind words. You could’ve had a career in counseling, you know.

And then she fades into the crowd, disappearing down the corridor.

MY HANDS TREMBLE AS I take the Tram—what we call our ship’s small, stuffy elevator—up to the bridge. When the door opens with a loud click, I step out and look around.

I notice all the usual people. Helmsman Adam Wang, dark-haired with a mullet, sits at the controls, a scowl on his face. I know what he’s thinking—that it’s a waste of time trying to get this spaceship flying again. That we’re marooned here for good, all our systems offline. Maybe he’s right.

Chief Security Officer Brock Henderson stands near the Tram, nodding as I pass. He’s handsome with dirty blonde hair and sculpted arms. I’m sure he believes his job is futile, too. We’ve never had a single threat out here.

I finally lay my tired eyes on the man I’m searching for. Captain Neil Jarvis stands tall and proud behind Adam, glancing out the main window at outer space. He’s let his brown hair grow out and combed his beard. The stars twinkle in front of him. I have to admit—it’s breathtaking—but I don’t look out at space much anymore. Now it just makes me wish we could go home.

And there’s nothing? Captain Jarvis asks, turning to the helmsman. No helm control? What about navigation or communications?

We do this little routine every day, Captain, Adam says, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. The ship hasn’t moved in six years. We’re completely locked out of every major system. It’s a miracle life support still works.

I’ve been thinking about that, Captain, Brock says, stepping forward. Let’s say, for argument’s sake, someone trapped us here instead of a ship-wide failure. They disabled every system except for life support and essential things. See what I’m saying?

Captain Jarvis nods. I do, Officer Henderson. You think someone—or something—is intent on keeping us here. But I still believe it’s a ship malfunction instead of sabotage. After six years, you’d think our captors would’ve spoken to us by now. Either given us their demands or killed us outright...

I take my seat at my station as they go over their theories. I’m the ship’s Senior Communications Officer and I take my job very seriously. If the Captain wants to speak to me, it’ll have to wait until after my duties.

This is Senior Communications Officer Jan Barrett, I say, opening a sub-space channel on the small computer. We’re stranded on the Einstein, far from Earth, and we’d like to get home soon. Requesting assistance with helm control, navigation, and refueling. Can anyone hear me?

No response. It shouldn’t surprise me anymore—no one has ever responded. Still, I bounce the signal around our current location, hoping it’ll reach someone. Even if it can’t get to Earth, I pray an alien ship will intercept it and rescue us. If aliens exist, it would be a great time to make that discovery.

It’s no use, Adam says, staring up at Captain Jarvis. Stop giving our people false hope, Captain. Accept our fate.

Captain Jarvis says nothing. He turns around, his eyes falling on me. Ah, Officer Barrett. I sent the Commander after you. A word in the Debriefing Room, please?

I nod, rising to my feet. I follow him to the adjoining room and Captain Jarvis closes the door behind us with the press of a button. I’m too nervous to sit, but he does—looking calm and composed as usual.

Commander Neville told me you wanted to see me, I say, breaking the silence. Here I am, sir.

He nods as he gets comfortable in his seat. Yes, of course. It’s about your work here as Senior Communications Officer.

You...aren’t firing me, are you?

He sighs. "Well...sort of. Not like you can pack your bags and leave the station. If it makes you feel any better, I’m firing mostly