Flash Fiction: This is a distress call

 

The red light on the dashboard blinked on and off. 

“Vox, run a diagnostic.” said Gibson

“Of course.” responded the AI, closing out the chess game it had been playing with Gibson.

Gibson sat back in his chair and puffed his cigarette. He looked out over the dashboard, through the viewport, and into the inky black nothing before him. Stars twinkled in the distance. 

“Gibson put out your cigarette.” Vox said.

“Why?” asked Gibson, taking another puff. 

“Because we are losing oxygen.” said Vox. 

Gibson immediately put the cigarette out in an ashtray on the dashboard. He leaned forward. 

“Why are we losing oxygen?” he asked. 

“Vox reads an error log. It is stopping the oxygen system from recycling your breath.” Vox responded.

“What do you recommend?” Gibson asked.

“Vox recommends a system reboot.” the AI responded.

Gibson flipped switches and placed his hand on an identity pad. The lights in the cabin of the ship went dim as the system rebooted. This sort of thing happened from time to time. Gibson figured it was a minor glitch, nothing Vox couldn’t sort out. 

The lights came back up and Vox’s voice came over the speaker. “System has been successfully rebooted. Oxygen levels are still in decline.”

Gibson scratched his head. He surveyed the dashboard again. 

“Vox” he said, “can you tell me if this is a hardware or software issue?”

“I am sorry. Vox cannot.” the AI responded.

“Why not?” Gibson asked.

“Vox has lost communication with the oxygen system.” Vox said 

“What do you recommend?” asked Gibson.

“Vox recommends scanning the ship's computer for corrupted data.” the AI said “This may take some time. Do you want Vox to proceed?”

Gibson looked at the oxygen meter. He had twelve hours of oxygen left. 

“Do what you have to do.” he said. 

The next several hours were nerve-wracking. Gibson went to his bunk and laid down, breathing slowly to preserve oxygen. He knew he still had his exo-suit, which was good for another eight hours or so. He left port at Rickenbacker station two weeks ago. He was making excellent time on his delivery, but he wouldn’t hit another checkpoint for two more days. 

“Gibson, Vox has completed its scan.” the AI said, “Would you please come to the bridge?”

Gibson walked to the bridge as if he were on death row. The scan took four hours. He had eight hours of oxygen left.

“What's the bad news?” said Gibson, looking down at the oxygen meter on the dashboard.

“Vox detected numerous corrupted files. Additionally, the capacitor for the oxygen system appears to have been neutralized.” said the AI.

“So we can’t fix it?” Gibson asked.

“Vox is sorry, Gibson.” said the AI. “Vox recommends sending out a distress signal, and that you prepare your exo suit.”

Gibson gave approval. The AI began sending out the distress signal.

“This is a distress call. The Reverend, ship model Ovation class, ID tag AMP AC-30, Captain Gibson Alvarez. We are losing oxygen. Our coordinates are RA: 6h45m8.9s Dec: -16°42'52.1.” Gibson sat in his chair and looked over the dashboard, through the viewport, and into the inky black nothing before him. The inky black did not seem to notice him. Gibson pondered for a moment, watching the twinkling stars. “Vox.” he said, “What are my odds for survival.” “Are you sure you want to know?” asked the AI. “Yes.” said Gibson. “Low.” said the AI. Gibson ran his thumb over the visor of his helmet. He listened to the distress call and saw the glow of the red emergency lights flashing on the ship's engines. He closed his eyes and remembered how the inky black did not seem to notice him. “Maybe that’s just life.” thought Gibson, “Maybe that’s all there is. We are out here, and we don’t matter very much. Never have.” “Gibson,” said Vox, “would you like to continue playing chess with Vox? It is recommended to keep your mind engaged.” Gibson nodded. He began reviewing the chess board when he noticed a twinkling star moving closer. And then he saw that it was the glow of thrusters. Gibson breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a human voice come over the speaker.