After three hours inside the deep rest capsule, I got up ready for my workday. With this I meant to say that I wandered around the room still half sleep, tripping over everything in that room, until I managed to fin the food dispatcher. They can say whatever they want, but I'm one of those who can not function as a human being until I had drink a big cup of Energex. I'm well aware that the effect is mostly placebo, even more because I drink the diluted and sweetened version,but it is something I'm simply too accustomed.

After washing my face and putting myself inside my work suit, I went to review the task board to be aware of what I would be doing that day. Of course, I was the only technician available. Douglas must have had invented an illness or injury to skip work, as usual. I would never understood how a doctor could take seriously a hypochondriac patient when said being belonged to a species of ogres.

I resigned myself, took my toolbox, and went to my first assignment. I had to remind myself that I was the only one who complained of the state of the ship, and my apparent little progress in fixing all the issues it had. Even on those rare occasions when we both worked, I always felt that there were way too many things yet to fix. But this will ultimately be always the case,the "Crusher" had been a ship full of details and whims since the day it left the factory, and it had already more than 50 years of service.

Our ship had a simple purpose,traversing the space through abandoned sectores and finding damaged or destroyed ships, as well as satellites and other objects that had escaped their orbits. In layman words, we were a space garbage truck.

The captain had posted a report claiming the engines couldn't make it to third gear, and that had lead me to the engine room. That room always seemed to me like the entrails of a beast, even though it was pure machinery, the tubes and cables remained me of veins and other organs. Strangely, once I got focused on work, the rhythmic noises of the mechanisms were quite calming and therapeutic.

I opened my toolbox and, of course,everything was out of place even when I had put everything in its place before entering the deep rest capsule. Fixing it was not a problem, but it was the third time it had happened that week, and everyone denied even touching the box. There were moments when I even considered the idea that the ship was haunted.

After a few minutes I had managed to overcome my frustration by focusing on the work I had in front of me.I checked the pressure of all the pipes, looked for leaks, and made sure all the valves were in the correct position. I also examined each cable to see if none were cut. Everything seemed fine up to that point, but I had hardly checked and eighth of all the machinery when the radio that was hanging from my waist produced multiple tones that sounded like wind chimes. A familiar voice followed.

-Theo, you have to come to the bridge-, Douglas said with urgency in his words, but that was so usual I didn't though much of it.

With laziness and weariness I took the radio to my ear and held it with my shoulder, leaving my hand free to tightened a screw I had just found a bit loose.

—Douglas, I'm a bit busy right now. For some strange reason, I have to do the work of two mechanics.

—You don't understand, this is really something you have to see! Something in his voice was different,and it picked my interest, so I told him I would be there in a few moments. I put my tools away, setting them inside my toolbox in the specific place where they belonged, and began the walk to my destination. As soon as I got to the door, I turned around and went back on my steps just to check if I had properly locked the box.

