The Memory Cell

The lights of the SS Jugo’s navigational computer hold my attention briefly as the control panel flickers into life. I see through the Navdek window that we are passing a bright sun orbited by green planets. It looks beautiful.

“Communication Status?” My voice echoes off empty chairs. I wonder where everyone has gone.

“Communication in 48, 47, 46,” the computer replies. I look for Earth, my home, a pinpoint in the distance. Granny lives there and we’re moving back for school. Mum says I’ve picked up too many bad habits living at a spaceport. Once the communications device restarts I might call… I frown. Who did I want to call?

As the sun is eclipsed by a passing planet, a deep shadow falls across me. The solar generator fails. My hands pixelate. The countdown stops. A jolt of déjà vu reminds me I am merely a hologram, a computer memory of the ship’s last moments before an oxygen breach wiped out the crew, and me. Fifty years ago.

Look out of the window. Next time my ship hits solar energy, I’ll blink into existence again, the ghost in the machine. I blow a kiss to Earth, far on the horizon.