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The station looked abandoned. No lights on the docks, no greetings on the radio. Only the station’s beacon kept repeating about the closed zone and quarantine. Fortunately, it wasn't the roar of automatic guns. That’s how uninvited guests are scared away in some quarantine zones. Everything was quiet.
It’s been almost a month since I got that watch. And I’m still no closer to solving its mystery. I even consulted with some Collectors I know, but couldn’t clarify anything about these numbers. However, I found out the coordinates of the station where the ship was probably still located. To do this, I had to thoroughly dig into the archive data and find the station that best fits the description. I rented a ship and slowly drifted next to the mooring entrances, tightly imprinted and lifeless. It was time to put on a spacesuit and go right to the station on foot. Spacesuit is on — you’re good to go!
I’ve always loved using spacesuit in space. An amazing feeling of loneliness and freedom. Some time ago, it was landing in spacesuits from shuttles in orbit that I liked the most. Those were the good days! Ruthless ones. I had my own secrets for getting into the station. Versatile keys for technical doors. It wasn’t a combat station and getting inside was easy enough.
I successfully opened the technical hatch for the maintenance staff when my solitude was violated in the most unpleasant way. Several combat ships immediately emerged from the protective fields near the station, brightly illuminating it with searchlights. A guard frigate was right behind them. I quickly ducked inside and slammed the hatch behind me. They may not have noticed me, but it was impossible not to notice my ship. Which means they know that there is a rat inside…
An abandoned station is a sad sight. It was left it in a hurry. A layer of dust covered the things thrown in the passages. The air conditioning system wasn’t working. It looked like the station’s reactors were shut down or even removed. According to my estimates, the yacht had to be located nearby — in closed repair hangars. I was almost running through the passages when the station shook greatly. Wow! It looks like we’ve got guests.
I found the yacht exactly where I expected. It was parked in a repair hangar, where it was floating, entangled with mooring hoses, wires and trusses. Abandoned for a long time. The station was shaking slightly as I pushed off from the passage and slowly floated in the zero gravity of the hangar to the ship’s entrance airlock. No doubt the guests will be here very soon. But I was ahead so far.
Getting into the ship turned out to be quite easy. The airlock was open. Emergency power was still working. There was a weak gravity in the ship. I quickly went through the living quarters. It was clear that the ship was searched repeatedly and everything of value was taken out long ago. I didn’t know what I was looking for. I was just walking forward, pushed by an unknown force. Something was calling me. Stronger and stronger with every step.
If the whole ship was overturned by the looters of artifacts, then it seemed that no one entered the control cabin of the ship. It seemed that the crew just left for a second and would now return with coffee mugs. That was curious. I looked around. There was nowhere else to go. A dead end. But why was I brought here? I had no doubt that my artifacts were leading me here. I walked slowly past the crew seats, the dead control panels and screens to the captain’s seat. The chair was slightly turned, inviting you to sit, which I did.
Suddenly I felt stuffy and heavy. I unzipped and took off my helmet. The ship’s systems were working and there was quite a working atmosphere in the control cabin. As soon as I turned to the dead control panel, one of the screens turned on. The load lines started running along it, and then a black void looked at me from the screen. The screen was definitely working. Something from it was looking at me. Something strange, huge and scary. It saw me through, penetrated my brain and read my thoughts. I was mesmerized by the screen, paralyzed by fear and gaze. Then I was released as suddenly as captured at the beginning. Something was gone. Only alien stars were looking at me from the screen. An unknown location. Gloomy and dark. Then an inscription appeared on the screen:
“Black abyss”. Enter the code.
A space for typing the numbers.
My heart was pounding as I reached for the keyboard. The fingers themselves lay down on the right numbers. But they didn’t manage to type.
— Don’t touch anything, — the familiar voice of the Indian was accompanied by a hard pressing of the gun barrel in my ear. — Don’t move. Slowly take your hands off the terminal, so that I can see them.
I obediently raised my hands to show that I gave up. He wouldn’t let me enter the code anyway. But the fight is not yet over. I know a few dirty tricks and after dealing with the Indian, I can return to the terminal.
— I see that you still have hope to finish your business here? I was warned that you could be used. Slowly turn around in your chair.
I turned around. The Indian wasn’t alone. He was covered by a pair of twins in reinforced combat suits. One of them still held me at gunpoint, while the second was mining the ship's control cabin.
— We don’t have much time. My old friend Larsen is about to arrive here with the Imperial security team. And they’re closely followed by the militants of Ellydium. It’s getting cramped here. We have to go.
— Will you kill me here? — I kept waiting for the right moment, but the Indian’s team looked dangerous and experienced.
— Kill you? — The Indian laughed. — Oh, no! The task was changed. We were sent to guard and protect you. Especially from yourself and your thoughtless actions.
Suddenly, he sharply reached out to me. Something pricked my neck above the collar of my spacesuit. I moved, but immediately went limp. The desire to fight was gone. Apathy and fatigue covered me.
— Wow, it worked, — The Indian put away his blaster and was now thoughtfully examining the sharpened end of a pencil. — Are you all right?
— Yeah, I’m good, — I was still sitting weakened, but I felt that something forcing me to act earlier was gone. — What was it?
— I have no idea, man, — The Indian gave me his hand and helped me to get up from the chair. There was still an invitation to enter the code on the monitor. But such a desire to do this completely passed. — I was told to use it as an extreme measure. And it worked.
— Damn artifacts, — I quickly put on my helmet. — Let’s get out of here as soon as possible!
We got away clean. A couple of shootings in the passages of the station. I didn’t see who was shooting at whom. I was covered from all sides. By this time I guessed who the Indian was and who sent him, so we left as a well-coordinated team, abandoning my shuttle at the doomed station. Huron’s ship picked us up as soon as we left it and, hiding under the invisibility generators, successfully hid from the turrets and missiles of opponents attacking us. The last thing I saw before I boarded was an explosion inside the station where the cursed yacht “Ex Oblivione” used to rest.