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   Chapter 28 No.28

Black Sunrise By Christina Engela Characters: 5501

Updated: 2018-06-30 12:01

He was alone on the ship all night, he'd been in the rec-dec all night, well – he was sure he was in the rec-dec all night. Ask the fish! Why would he do such a thing, even when inebriated? Had he? He wasn't sure. What if people were killed down there when the thing hit? Had anybody been killed? The insurance was going to be hell to sort out! Oh gods, everything was such a mess. After all, who else could have done it? The computer? No way – there were so many fail-safes and backup systems in place, it was inconceivable. A systems failure? An accident? Silly person, he thought to himself… computers don't have accidents. He sighed in desperate resignation. It had to be somebody's fault – and he was the only somebody on the Duval at the time. The only other living being onboard was Fred and there was no – wait a minute…

Fred? The Arborian resident of the rec-dec had stayed put ever since he could remember – except for last night. He suddenly vaguely remembered Fred… leaving – 'going for a walk', he said. In fact, he was sure it was the last thing he remembered. Wincing as the realization hit him on the head almost as hard as his own *face-palm*, followed by instant regret, his unraveling mind dropped a couple of gears and went into overdrive. But why would Fred -? Anyway, that was a possible explanation. Maybe the only possible one.

That was almost as inconceivable as the computer scenario. It was like getting bitten by a carrot and then trying to convince people where the bite marks had come from. Where was Captain Morris? Why was he being made to wait so long? The waiting was only making it worse.

As if in answer t

launch bay. The advantage of having been a fixture on the rec-dec for so long was that he could now travel light. He had no bags to pack. The only luggage he had was his pot, which was something he wore more than carried – and so, the only thing he had left behind was the ring of dust his pot had made on the shelf.

Many Arborians would wear pots with intricately carved designs or motifs; in fact it was often only by their pots that they could tell one another apart. Elderly Arborians often had little wheels on their pots to make getting around a little easier. Some of the younger generations would use their pots to make fashion statements. One of his many offspring for example, once sported leaf piercings and glitter. One of them with a slightly strange sense of humor went to a party dressed as a Yule tree. Nobody even noticed. At least, not until she started talking to people. Oy. Humans were like that. But when they did notice, it would cause the sort of lapses in concentration during which their shoelaces could be tied together – and Fred preferred things plain and simple.

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