A.L. Burgess Jr.'s Blog

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This is set for first come first served. If you want a kindle copy and don't have one you can get it here. There are only a few left!


Garden of Salt and Stone:

https://www.amazon.com/ga/p/8282cc520...


Children of Na:

https://www.amazon.com/ga/p/2a3113d1b...

I do this on a not-so-regular basis, but if you're interested here are the links:

https://www.amazon.com/ga/p/5021f6743...


https://www.amazon.com/ga/p/e295cd0e2...

Monica examined Junkman’s arm. She turned his hand over and scrutinized the skin above his wrist where the alien tentacle had applied force. There appeared to be no puncture wounds or ligature marks of any kind. “Do you feel sick or uneasy—restless maybe?”

“No ma’am,” Junkman replied, shaking his head. “I sure was scared though.”

Monica looked at the group and shrugged. “I guess he’s okay. I wish I could run a bunch of tests, but unless he starts acting strange or shows any signs of discomfort there’s not much else I can do.”

Robert held out the alien rock. “He gave this to you?”

“Yeah,” Kyle answered. “I gave him my license and he gave that to me—a trade—Junkman’s idea.”

“Y’all see that?” Junkman chided. “I knew what ole Red wanted.”

“How does it change color?” Ayden asked.

Kyle did his best impression of the high-pitched noise the alien had made and the rock’s surface flashed through a slight color variation, but it was lackluster at best. “I guess it takes some practice—probably be better in water.”

“So his species is aquatic? Just like our octopi?” Alicia asked.

“They look similar,” Kyle answered, “but their physiology is different and their water is strange—denser and less fluid. The gravity makes the atmospheric pressure huge on their world, but evolutionarily, if you have liquid-based life forms, maybe they tend to evolve along the same path—I don’t know.”

“You’re right,” Sean interrupted. “You don’t know anything.”

The members of the group stared long and hard at Sean. Using a branch as a crutch, the man hobbled a few paces around the narrow table and sat down.

“Being an egghead is one thing,” Sean said, pushed every bit of the foul assessment his words carried toward Kyle. “Knowing what’s going on is what we need right now—not theories.”

Although Sean was not wrong, his impulsive indifference for the facts irked the group as a whole. The members started to protest, but Kyle stopped them.

“If you’ve got something to say—just say it,” Kyle said.

“You and this guy,” Sean said, gesturing to Kyle and Junkman, “You guys didn’t find out anything new.”

“Wrong,” Kyle responded. “We found out a lot of things. We knew we weren’t alone, but now we know we’ve got a least one neighbor that doesn’t seem interested in eating us.” Kyle stopped momentarily to glance at Junkman. “The ship has a crew passageway, but we didn’t see any crewmembers—we’ll find some eventually. It’ll just take time, that’s all.”

Sean scoffed. “We don’t know where we’re going, who’s driving this thing, or what’ll happen when we get there—I don’t care what none of you say, I’m going next time. I want answers.”

Kyle and Junkman trailed far behind the alien. Their system of traversing the interior of the craft consisted of one individual anchoring to a sturdy nearby structure while the other leapfrogged ahead, floating to a mooring point strong enough for the next leg of the journey. Their progress was surefooted, but slow. The alien seemed interested in the technique and waited patiently for the tethered duo to catch up before leading them deeper into the bowels of the ship.

The creature stopped near a gap between compartments. The location was more forward into the ship and higher than the human’s habitat. The alien hovered in the weightless space and gestured with one tentacle for Kyle and Junkman to follow before disappearing between a collection of piping and ductwork.

Kyle and Junkman carefully approached the gap. They took up positions on either side of the fissure and peered over the side. The makeshift corridor was wide and so was the doorway it contained. It was situated on top of the compartment as opposed to underneath, like the human’s, but covering the opening was the same dark, gaseous ether that choked both Kyle and Junkman on their way into the ship’s interior. Kyle floated closer to the opening, but Junkman grasped his shoulder and stayed his progress.

“Y’all don’t know nothin’ about what’s in there?” Junkman said.

Kyle drew a deep breath in the thin air. “I know, but I want to find out.”

Junkman tugged on the rope that tethered him to Kyle. “Y’all see this?”

Kyle shrugged, not understanding what Junkman was trying to say.

“This means if y’all get eaten, I’m eaten too. Why y’all need to hurry?”

“I agree,” Kyle responded. “Let’s get a little closer to see if we can hear anything.”

“Go on then,” Junkman said. “I’ll stay right here.”

Insatiably curious about the alien, Kyle wanted to poke his head into the compartment and have a look around, but as he neared, the gravity emanating from the opening caught him off guard and pulled him in. At first, he reached out for Junkman, but found he was already too far away. Kyle grasped the pipes to stop his forward movement, but the force was so strong that he could not hold on. As he approached the dark ether at the edge of the opening, he cried out, “I need help!”

Junkman took up all the slack in the rope and held on to the side of the corridor with his free hand. The weight of the burden was too much and he started to give way. “I can’t do nothin’!”

The gravitational pull of the compartment was massive and Kyle hit the plate steel of the corridor floor hard. As he slid forward, he passed through the layer of dark ether covering the opening and could see the edges of the doorway. Kyle braced himself against the lip of the hatch and pushed with all his might against the immense pull. A black, viscous fluid lay oddly still and undisturbed within the confines of the doorway. The jarring energy from the forceful struggle Kyle made manifested not a single ripple on the fluid’s placid façade.

“Untie yourself!” Kyle screamed back to Junkman. “I can’t hold it.”

Junkman let go of the rope and scrambled to find the knot securing his own harness to his midsection. During the process, Junkman caught sight of a mass of tentacles wrapping themselves around Kyle’s legs. “Shit, man! He got y’all!” Junkman hollered, his hands nervously trying to unite himself. Before he could finish, Junkman felt the release of tension and saw Kyle’s rope slacken.

Kyle, cradled in a mass of tentacles, rose up from the dark ether carried by the alien creature. Once free of the gravitational pull of the compartment the alien let go of Kyle so he could float in the corridor at a safe distance.

Kyle’s struggled to breathe and his body shook with fatigue and shock.

“Y’all okay?” Junkman asked, keeping a wary eye on the alien.

Kyle coughed and nodded. “Yeah, thanks to him.”

The creature’s translucent dome flashed through a series of bright colors before lingering on a pleasant red hue.

Junkman took note of the color. “Red here, saved y’all?”

“Red?” Kyle asked absentmindedly and nodded at the color inference. “Yeah, I guess Red did save me.”

From under his mass of tentacles, Red produced a smooth oblong rock covered in a viscous fluid. He handed the filthy rock to Kyle and made a series of warbles and low vibrations.

Unsure of what was happening, Kyle grimaced and took the rock gingerly from Red’s tentacle. “Thanks.”

Junkman recognized the rock for what it was and smiled. “He’s trading with you.”

“Oh,” Kyle said, holding the filthy rock at arm’s length. “Yeah,” he said, handing the rock back to Red. “It’s okay, I don’t need anything back.”

Red flashed white and made a high-pitched noise.

Junkman held up his hands, “Take it, y’all offendin’ him.”

Kyle quickly brought the rock back and held it up to his flashlight to better scrutinize it. It was oblong, rough, and slimy.

Red let out a small series of low-frequency rumbles and the rock flashed through a series of iridescent colors before returning to an inert state.

Kyle smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”

Squinting through the intense light, Kyle raised his hands in a gesture of non-violence. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Junkman balled up his fists and took a fighting posture. In an obnoxiously loud voice, he added, “That’s right—y’all learn what for!”

Kyle waved his hands at Junkman and hushed out, “Back up—you’re not helping.”

Junkman pushed himself further away from the creature and took a more relaxed posture. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands and mimicking Kyle’s display. “I don’t mean nothin’.”

The alien’s brilliant display subsided until the only illumination came from the two flashlights the humans carried. The creature lowered its forward limbs and leaned forward. Multicolored lights flashed from within its translucent head and a high-pitched warble emanated from its torso.

“What the hell, man?” Junkman asked.

“I don’t know,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “I think he’s communicating with us.”

“That crap?” Junkman retorted. “Them lights and crazy shit, man?”

“Yeah,” Kyle responded. “That’s how he talks.”

“What’s he sayin’?”

“Are you kidding? How am I supposed to know?”

“Y’all a nerd?” Junkman posited learnedly. “Ain’t this shit y’all talk about, man?”

Kyle planted his palm squarely on his face and rubbed his eyes. “No, they don’t teach this in class.”

“Then what y’all gonna do?”

Kyle snorted, perturbed at the insinuation that he was the only human in the vicinity. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“On the streets,” Junkman said, “we trade somethin’.”

“Trade?”

“Somethin’ y’all don’t need,” Junkman answered. “Y’all learn about the person in a hurry that way.”

Kyle did not fully understand what Junkman was saying, but reasoned it must do with finding out the intentions of the other party. If they did not trade in something of fair value or left with the item without trading at all, that would mean they would not be forthcoming in future dealings. “What do you have?” Kyle asked Junkman.

Junkman chuckled and pulled out his pockets. “Nothin’.”

Kyle rummaged through his pants and took out his wallet. He had a little bit of money, an insurance card, and a paper flyer from a garage band gig he wanted to attend, but nothing intricate or fancy enough to serve as a barter-type item. Before Kyle put away his wallet, he remembered his driver’s license. He took it out from behind its clear-plastic sleeve and held it in the light. It had his picture on the front and was covered with holograms from the issuing state. It was not very technical, but perhaps the alien had never seen anything like it before.

Kyle shined the light on himself and pointed to his chest. “I’m Kyle. That’s my name, Kyle.”

The alien mimicked Kyle with one of its own tentacles while its head flashed through a series of colored lights and its torso vibrated with a deep rumble.

“Okay,” Kyle said, unsure it the creature understood the meaning of the gesture. He held the license in the light and angled it so that the prism-type reflection would shine across the alien’s head. Kyle moved it back and forth until it caught the creature’s attention. Once the alien was focused on it, Kyle moved forward keeping the license in front of him. “It’s a gift,” he said, floating toward the creature. “You can have it.”

At first, the alien hesitated and backed away, but the closer Kyle got to him, the more intrigued the creature seemed to be. Once Kyle was in range and with lightning speed, one of the alien’s fore tentacles reached out and took the license from the human’s hand.

The move was so swift and done with such precision, that it took Kyle completely off guard. He noticed that not only were the creature’s tentacles strong, but they could extend to remarkable lengths.

The alien hoisted the card up to its dome-like head. The soft paddle at the end of each limb acted like a dexterous, small hand. It deftly moved the license around to study it closely. The creature’s translucent head changed color and bathed the plastic-covered card in a soft red light. After the alien finished inspecting the license, he held it out for Kyle.

“No,” Kyle said, shaking his head and pointing to the creature. “It’s yours—you keep it.” Kyle closed his hand and drew it close to his chest in an attempt to show ownership.

The alien paused for a moment before tucking the card under his mass of limbs and jumping into the open space of the interior of the ship. Instead of floating randomly in the weightless environment, the creature spun like a top. The scales and paddles of each tentacle angled like a fan to provide thrust and steer the creature in any direction it wished to go. When it began to lose momentum, the alien simply coiled like a spring and released the energy anew.

Kyle watched the creature fly off into the darkness. “I guess we should follow it.”

Junkman laughed. “This is some bat-shit crazy stuff right here.”

Kyle pulled hard on the rope and floated headlong towards Junkman’s position. Kyle kept his flashlight trained on Junkman and could see the man struggle with an unseen assailant on the opposite side of a large set of pipes. At first, Kyle thought that Junkman’s fears finally had the best of him, but as Kyle closed in, he could see genuine terror distorting Junkman’s visage.

With his velocity faster than anticipated, Kyle hit the pipes hard. Before his momentum could send Kyle into the ship’s cavernous interior, he grabbed onto a smaller duct and held fast.

“He’s tryin’ to eat me!” Junkman screamed. His panic-stricken motions and flailing flashlight bathed the surrounding area in a disco-type, strobe light effect. “Pull me out, man!”

Kyle was nervous, but knew that succumbing to one’s fears never helped any situation. He took a deep breath and shined a light on Junkman’s arm. There, holding tight, was what could only be described as a serpent-like tentacle. It wrapped itself securely around Junkman’s arm with the trailing end disappearing into the dark behind the mass of pipes. The tentacle was scaly akin to a snake, but shaped more like an octopus arm without the suckers. At the end of the tentacle was a flat, square-shaped appendage similar to cobra’s hood. It contained no discernible eyes or mouth and pulsated with every convulsion Junkman made. Kyle watched it carefully and was certain he was not looking at the entire animal, only an arm.

Junkman shrieked, “I’m gonna be lunch, man—y’all best get me out of here!”

Cautiously, Kyle peered over the top of the pipes and glimpsed a large entity crouched low, between the main liquid lines and ductworks of the ship. It was impossible to unscramble the image presented to him. The creature had multiple arms. They were tense and all pushing in different directions as it opposed any force Junkman could muster. Kyle could not see a head or torso as he knew them, as they were being obscured by the alien’s muscular collection of tentacles. To Kyle, the situation appeared to be a case of mistaken identity that had devolved into a fight of tug-o-war.

“Ain’t you gonna do nothin’?” Junkman hollered.

Kyle shined his flashlight back and forth, first to Junkman then the alien. “Is he hurting you?”

“What?” Junkman screamed. “He’s eatin’ me, yeah?”

“Is he?” Kyle asked. “Has he hurt you or are you just scared?”

“He’s got me.”

“Okay,” Kyle responded. “Is he actually biting you or anything?”

Junkman thought about it for a moment and shook his head. “No, he’s just holdin’ on is all.”

“I know this is hard,” Kyle said, “but just relax. Let him feel you’re not tense anymore—not a threat.”

Junkman stopped thrashing about and let his seized arm go limp.

Kyle turned the flashlight on the alien and in a calm voice said, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

As if in response, the alien let out a long string of gurgles and muffled vibrations. The alien released its hold on Junkman’s arm and retracted its tentacle into the depths behind the pipes.

“See,” Kyle said to Junkman. “You’re free.”

Junkman quickly inspected his arm and saw no permanent damage. He aimed his light between the pipes. “What the hell is that thing?”

“Let’s find out,” Kyle replied, smiling. He shined the flashlight in the direction of the alien. “I’m Kyle,” he said, pointing at his chest. “What’s your name?”

Seemingly, the alien vibrated out a response and began to climb out from behind the pipes and ductwork.

First one tentacle came over the top of the pipe and then another, followed by several more. Kyle counted at least ten tentacles in view with the other half holding onto the backside of the pipe. The creature raised itself above the two humans and came fully into view. It was about seven feet tall and shaped like a large octopus or cephalopod. The alien’s tentacles, which ran about half of its body length up to its torso, exuded strength and were covered with flexible scales. Above that, the entity sported a symmetrical torso with fine, smooth skin. Odd fleshy pockets, arranged around the torso of the creature, prompted Kyle to inspect them with his flashlight, but he found them tightly closed. Above that, the skin turned translucent and rounded into a dome-like top that Kyle assumed to be the alien’s head.

The full height of the alien creature rising above Kyle and Junkman was nothing more than panic-inducing. Kyle stifled his emotions as best as he could, but Junkman was having none of it.

Junkman pushed himself away from the pipe and screamed at the creature, “What the hell are you, man?”

A deep, low frequency growl elicited from the alien as it tilted its body back, displaying all of its tentacles in a fan-like, aggressive posture. The paddles at the end of its limbs splayed out flat, aiding in its attempt to make its appearance as large and as menacing as possible. The creature’s translucent dome emitted a blinding hue of white light that caught the humans off guard.

“He’s gonna attack!” Junkman howled.

Kyle’s brief reconnaissance of the interior of the vessel only added to the group’s bewilderment. Most considered the act trespassing, but those like Kyle and Monica wanted to learn more about their captors and their intentions. Knowledge was power, and in this case, the group was foundering in a dark void.

After several hours of back and forth, the group voted to continue the excursions into the center of the ship with the primary purpose of mapping the craft and gleaning whatever information was available. The interlopers were to remain undiscovered at all costs and not to engage any individuals they may happen upon.

Kyle did not pay much attention to the arbitrary restrictions the group wanted to impose. He was certain the cavernous interior was uninhabited. What perplexed him was where the crewmembers lived and worked. The crewed parts of the vessel might be at the extreme fore and aft of the craft’s superstructure. Those areas presented the most difficulty for Kyle’s search. He put aside any of the group’s unfounded reservations and resolved to find the crew and verify that they were benevolent.

The length of rope the group had was not sufficient for Kyle to stay anchored to the compartment for long journeys. Someone would have to accompany Kyle, and both would need to remain secured to each other throughout the duration of the foray. Hazy was a good choice. Her strength and general courage would have made a fine companion into the unknown for Kyle. She volunteered wholeheartedly, but Junkman overrode her. After a short-lived kerfuffle over the reasoning behind Hazy being the proper choice, Junkman won out on guilt-ridden machismo and bravado. He did not want to go, but cared too much for Hazy’s wellbeing to let her lead the way.

Tethered together, Kyle and Junkman made their way through the open hatch. Kyle knew what to expect from crossing the portal’s threshold, but Junkman panicked and thrashed about to the point of hyperventilating.

“Relax,” Kyle said, floating at the ready nearby. “It’s hard to breathe in here. Push yourself away from the opening—it’ll get better.”

“Fuck that, man,” Junkman gasped. “I can’t do this.”

“Junk, baby,” Hazy’s muffled voice came from above. “Are you okay?”

Kyle pushed himself up into the dark ether and raised his flashlight between them to illuminate both of their faces. He could see Junkman laboring to breathe as the cold air condensed at a rapid pace around his head. “We can go back—we’ll try again later.”

Junkman clutched Kyle and motioned to leave, but Hazy’s voice from above steadied him.

“Baby?” Hazy asked.

Junkman caught himself and thought for a moment. He gasped out a deep breath. “I’m okay, baby—we’re moving on.”

Kyle nodded. “It’s better outside of this stuff. Follow me.” He gently pushed away from the hatch surround and floated to the smooth metal of the compartment below.

Junkman followed, but his overuse of force translated to a hard bounce and a wild show of grasping for a handhold among the pipes to prevent from being thrown further away. “What the hell?”

“Yeah, I guess we should’ve talked about it,” Kyle said. “The energy used is the same as when you land.”

Junkman aimed his flashlight at Kyle face. “English, y’all.”

“Right,” Kyle said, acknowledging the gap in understanding. “Slowly, we’re not in a hurry so no need to go fast—you’ll just hurt yourself on the other side.”

Junkman absorbed the information and nodded. “I can do that—y’all leavin’ somethin’ out?”

Kyle shined his light at Junkman’s hands, grasping the piping between the compartments. “One of us should always be anchored to the wall or we’ll float away.”

Junkman scanned the cavernous interior. “I’ll hold on.”

Kyle rummaged through one of his pants pockets and produced a long piece of folded-over duct tape. He tied the tape around a small pipe and left the vast majority of it floating in the weightless interior.

“What’s that for?” Junkman asked.

“So we can find our way back,” Kyle answered. “Let’s go.”

Using the pipes and ductwork as handholds, the two made their way up from their compartment with the goal of reaching the top of the craft. They crossed several other compartments in the process. Kyle studied each as they went and took note of the various shapes and sizes of each. More than once, Kyle and Junkman could hear strange noises emanating from inside the compartments. The sounds were so alien that they unnerved both of the explorers.

Over Junkman’s protestations, Kyle pressed on. He wanted to see if there were any restricted areas or obvious signs of habitation aside from the passengers. His first theory was that some of the compartments held crewmembers, but that idea fell to the wayside once Kyle realized that none of them were linked together. Each habitat was sole and separate unto itself.

Kyle worked his way higher until he reached the uppermost portion of the vessel and stopped dead in his tracks. Running along the underside of the ship’s interior ceiling was, what appeared to be, a metallic spine complete with segmented vertebrae. The structure was organic in shape, about twenty feet in diameter, and ran the length of the ship. Large-scale piping and ductwork jutted out of each segment and ran to distribution nodes where the various liquids and gasses were directed toward individual compartments. Kyle drew closer and saw that the spine was indeed closed off to the rest of the ship and sufficiently spacious that it could house individuals.

“What y’all see?” Junkman asked, floating in the open space and clinging tightly to a small set of pipes as far below Kyle as he could safely remain.

“It’s weird, but I can’t see a way in.”

“What kinda weird y’all talking about?” Junkman asked suspiciously.

“It’s nothing,” Kyle answered, trying to placate Junkman’s fears. “Why don’t we go back? They’ll be worried about us.”

“I hear that,” Junkman said and wasted no time in starting his way down.

Kyle followed behind, making sure the rope between them never slacked enough to tangle amongst the ship’s infrastructure and keeping an eye on Junkman. As they moved lower, Kyle saw Junkman grip a pipe and then quickly draw his hand back. “What’s wrong?”

Junkman turned his light on the area where his hand had been. “Somethin ain’t right.” He cautiously took a handhold and a long tentacle shot out from behind the piping and enveloped his arm. “Shit man!” Junkman yelled, trying to pull himself free. “Some fuckin’ alien’s got me!”

“What now?” Alicia asked the group. “We can tape two sticks together and go farther in?”

“Not enough,” Kyle replied. “We’ve got to go down there.”

“Are you crazy?” Hazy interjected.

Kyle looked up at Hazy and then scanned the other faces of the group. “We came this far didn’t we? Shouldn’t we find out what we’re up against?”

Hazy locked eyes with Kyle. “After everything y’all said about diseases and pressures and things? You is asking for trouble.”

“I know what I said, but we have to try,” Kyle replied, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “We’ve got a rope and you can pull me back if something goes wrong.”

“Who left you in charge?” Sean asked testily. “What happens if I want to go first?”

Kyle scoffed. “You’re volunteering? You’re injured—what possible good could you do for anyone?”

“Yeah, I still hurt,” Sean replied, “but I’m way stronger than you are and since there’s no gravity down there my bum leg won’t matter—that makes me the one to go.”

“That’s great,” Kyle rasped. “We’ll send the muscle-headed imbecile to communicate with—” Kyle stopped himself and took a moment to gather his composure. “You don’t even know what you’re looking for,” he said. “I’ve scoured this room for their tech—it’s almost impossible to find.”

Before Sean could further his argument, Junkman stepped in and raised his hand. “Kyle here got my vote.”

“Same here,” Robert said. “He’s the only one qualified to go.”

The rest of the group nodded and generally agreed with the assessment.

Sean relented. “Fine, let the little prick go.”

Robert sent Ayden to retrieve a coil of rope from the second-story storage area and bring it back to the hatch opening. Robert stood next to Kyle and made a harness that fit snugly around his waist and thighs.

Kyle tested the rope and found it secure. “It’s good.”

Robert tied the other end of the rope around his own waist and took up an anchor position behind Junkman. “Okay, we’re ready.”

Kyle nodded, and with Junkman’s help took a seat on the edge of the portal’s narrow lip and dangled his feet into the dark abyss. “It’s cold down there.” With a flashlight in one hand, he spun around and carefully lowered himself into the opening. He went as far as he could and then put his arms above his head. Kyle bobbed on the black ether as if he were treading water. He smiled. “Sorry,” he said and placed his hands on the underside of the opening and pushed himself below. Kyle stared at his friends until they disappeared from view.

“Can you hear me?” Kyle asked. He was only a few feet from the hole and could feel the reverberation of his voice off the metal surrounding the opening.

“We can hear y’all,” Junkman responded faintly.

Floating in midair, Kyle switched on the flashlight and saw his breath condense into a quickly dispersing fog. He swung the light around and saw nothing but a pitch-black haze in every direction. It was difficult to breathe. Kyle started to panic and found himself gasping for air. The atmosphere was thin akin to high altitude. Kyle’s heart raced as he fought the urge to pass out, but slowly, he gathered his wits and forced himself to focus on the rhythm of his labored breathing. He found that with some work, he was able to maintain an adequate oxygen flow.

From above, a worried and muffled Junkman asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Kyle replied. “I’m going to move out a little.”

The bottom of the opening around the hatch was made of metal several inches thick. Pipes, about six inches in diameter, wound their way around the bottom of the garden plot and disappeared into the dark ether on either side. From what Kyle could discern, the makeup and structure of the pipes appeared to be the same as they were inside, except the pipes outside the compartment were nearly pristine. He could see no rust or corrosion of any kind clinging to the metal surfaces.

Kyle gently pushed himself away from the opening. As he floated down from the ceiling, the dark haze quickly dissipated and hung like a dense mist around the hatch. The further Kyle retreated from the strange cloud the better he was able to see. He reasoned it was a visible manifestation of the switch in gravitational forces between the compartment and the interior of the ship.

Kyle scanned the area with his flashlight. He was in a corridor of sorts. It was not a passageway in the normal sense, as it appeared to be just a space between adjacent compartments. Pipes and square ductwork lined the sides of the makeshift corridor, but the floor was nothing more than the smooth roof of the compartment below. The garden plot hatch had been placed in an area advantageous to the disparate layout of the ship and the corridor was nothing more than a happenstance of that design.

Kyle gently hit the floor and caught himself before his momentum carried him off again. He moved hand over hand, along the ductwork, until he reached the end of the corridor. There, he found that his compartment above ended while the one below kept going forming a small landing overlooking the center of the craft. Kyle was able to hold on to the pipes at the end of the corridor and shine his flashlight into the cavernous interior of the ship.

The view given Kyle showed the craft to be a jumble of compartments. Each ended at non-linear and incongruent locations within the vast spine of the ship. Some compartments were several levels high while others were half the size or less of the group’s space. Pipes and ductwork, some several yards in diameter, came from gaps between the compartments and rose up toward the top of the craft and out of view. A few of the larger tubes and conduits crisscrossed the voluminous spine, but other than that, Kyle saw no bulkheads or supporting structures of any kind. He reasoned that the ship’s gravitational technology or some unseen design elements actually kept the craft in one piece while it flew through the cosmos.

Curious about the other side, Kyle pushed himself across the void and to an outlet similar to his own. He peered into the corridor and saw a large rectangular doorway only a few yards away. It was inset similar to the hatch in his own compartment, but aligned vertically for a more traditional ingress and egress. Kyle shined the light along the edges of the door and saw no handles or technology of any kind that might open it from the outside. He peered through the pipes and gathered that the portal led to another compartment on the other side of the ship.

Kyle was beginning to feel light headed, so with his curiosity sated for the time being, he pulled hard on the rope several times and waited for Junkman and Robert to drag him back through the hatch opening.

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