The Stars Came Back by Rolf Nelson Page B

off to his left in the dark. He casts his light beam around. The inner hatchway opens into the middle of the box-shaped cargo bay, 40m long, 8m wide, and 6m high. Several other hatches are visible, two large cargo doors at each end, and a number of 80cm x 1.5m wide windows looking onto it from the next deck up. Some of those windows are propped open, swinging up and into the cargo bay. A couple of chain hoists hang from above at one end, and lots of assorted things lay about the deck: barrels, crates, some odd cylinders (about 70cm across and 1m long with a 10cm hole in the top), metal beams, an ATV up on blocks with a missing wheel, tools, and a stack of boxes labeled “do not stack,” with their “this side up” arrows pointing every which way. He hears another scuffling sound, and he jerks the light in that direction. Nothing but dark, motionless stuff.
    Helton: ( Quietly) I think she might be needing just a bit more than a coat of paint. LIGHTS!
    No response from the ship. He flashes his beam around and sees a com-panel with switches and another dim LED on the wall. He moves a switch. Nothing. He pulls out the title paper, holds it up to the scanner. Nothing. He hears another scurrying sound, and again his flashlight dimly shows nothing but a very abandoned and creepy looking ship. He pockets the title, switches the light to his left hand, pulls out a small locking knife and flicks it open, snick . He lights up the cargo bay to his left, where across the cargo doors the word STERN is printed in large letters. Swinging the light the other way he sees BOW. A pair of flags are painted on the top edge, about a half-meter on a side, one below the other. The top flag is a blue cross on a white background, the lower flag has three horizontal stripes with blue on top, then white and red below.

    He advances cautiously toward the bow of the ship, scanning his light slowly around the ship and clutter. Approaching the bow door a hatch goes to a stairway and a storage area. He heads upstairs. Behind each riser of the stair is, faintly readable and not really noticed, a virtue, such as BRAVERY, DEPENDABILITY, and FAITH. Every stair riser on the ship has them. He climbs one level to the middeck and casts his light down the passageway. It is clean and orderly, with a couple of hatches receding into the distance. He moves a few meters down the cramped passageway, and casts his light into a side door. It reveals a small cabin, only about 2.5m wide and 4m deep, lined with a dozen close-spaced bunks three high on each side, two each end to end, and a set of small lockers at the back wall, with a low row of drawers along the floor. It looks and feels tight, like a bunkroom in an ancient submarine. He moves along to the next door, revealing an identical cabin. Behind the next door is a galley and serving line, partly neat and orderly and clean, and partially a mess of heaped stuff. He sniffs the air, and makes a face as he recognizes the pleasant smell of fresh food . There is another scampering sound, and he whirls, knife at the ready. Nothing. A clink-rattle-rattle, and he whirls the other way. Another scampering sound, the thwap of something hitting his coat from behind. He jumps, startled.
    Helton: YAARRGG!
    Quinn: TAG! YOU’RE IT!
    In the beam of his flashlight, Quinn (five-year-old boy, messy hair, dirty clothes, barefoot) runs away down the passageway and around a corner, laughing.
    Helton: Hey! Wait! Who are you! Where are you going! STOP!
    He’s gone. Helton leans against the doorway to the galley to let himself calm down for a second. He breathes deep, and looks down at the knife in his hand. He folds the knife and drops it in his pocket.
     
    CUT TO
    C lose-up view of Helton’s head in profile as he stands in the galley hatchway looking around it with his flashlight.
     
    There is a slight sound behind him. He feels the cold point of a knife on his neck.
    Allonia: (OC , firm female voice) FREEZE!
    Camera view pulls back to