The Lookout

Editorial Note: this story was written for

Scoot

‘s prompt: write about a lonely lighthouse. It follows Secret Relic, The Call, Sunflower and the Commander, and Magical.

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“It’s your turn,” the Director said brusquely. “Hawkins took the last one, Jordan the one before that. You’re up.”

“But,” Tasha said, knowing full well her objection was pointless, “I’ve got the flu.”

“Pack some Tylenol,” the Director said, and that was that.

The shuttle launched next day. The flight and docking were routine, almost entirely automated. Unloading was fairly easy; the place was fully stocked with weapons and other supplies. All she’d brought was a pillow and a book to pass the time between sleep intervals. She’d lied about the flu.

Tasha took a final tour just to make sure everything was set. The Department’s Deep Space Lighthouse program was still new enough that she worried something might go wrong.

“Okay,” she said, voice echoing in the empty ship. “Long-range sensors primed to detect alien life, check. Alarms set to wake me and change course back to Earth if that happens, check. Stasis pod stabilizers, check. Star-drive, check. Knight to pawn seven, check. I don’t know why I’m even saying all this, check. Am I going crazy, check.”

Tasha trailed off. She’d heard of pre-stasis nervousness. There was really only one way to deal with it. She was just opening up the pod when, on a panel just to her left, a bright red sensor light began blinking.

Then the alarms started.