Message in a bottle.
'All right already, I've got it. What's the fuss about?'
Jake’s voice came tinny from the speaker grille.
'It looks older than the universe.'
'Stop whining and get your arse back inside. You're wasting oxygen.'
Christina slapped a switch, killing the radio. A frown marred her features as she descended the ladder to the working area. As she passed the airlock, Jake exited it, carrying a small container. After seeing Christina's face he followed her at a respectful distance.
'I still think it’s a waste of time!', Jake addressed Christina's back.
She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling as she opened a door labelled "Clean Room".
'I think it’s a waste of time.' she sneered, mimicking Jake's words. Then added a caustic, 'I still think you're bloody wasting oxygen, you brainless zombie!'
Jake kept silent. After two years in space with Christina, he knew her foul mood all too well.
#
Jake and Christina stood in front of a glove box and scrutinized the object Jake had retrieved from space. Indirect light gleamed off it. The surface looked brittle, covered in scratches and pitted. Jake kept his voice neutral as he inserted his hands.
'It looks like one of those old prospector sample boxes they used...oh, some two hundred and some years ago.'
Christina snorted. and switched on the glove box's working lights. Rotating the mysterious object, Jake looked for a locking mechanism. He found a countersunk slide and worked it. Box and lid separated, revealing a dark yellow cylinder.
'Shite,' he muttered, 'no treasure, just a piece of faded plastifoil.'
Christina pulled him back and took his place. With the utmost care, she picked up the cylinder and began unfurling it. Tiny flakes fluttered as the aged polymer cracked.
The plastifoil was covered in barely legible script. Christina's lips moved in silence while she read the archaic language. She put down the sheet, withdrew her hands from the glove box and left the workplace.
Jake watched her go with his chin sagging. Was that a sob he heard? Christina? Crying?
Bent over the glove box, Jake struggled to decipher the ancient words. It took him a long time to decipher the message and then he wished he hadn't.
Hi there, my name is Timmy Hurton, I am 6 years old and I live on a starship but I think it is broken now. There was a loud bang and then Daddy went outside to fix it but he didn't come back. Mummy cried and then she hugged me and then she went outside too. And then the lights all went red and now it is getting colder. Please come and help me and my Daddy and my Mummy.
The End
Words: 495
