Alarms buzzed in Drake’s ears. At first, he thought he was dreaming, but when he opened his eyes, he realized this was no dream. Many of the monitors on the bridge were flashing urgent messages. Drake had fallen asleep in the captain’s seat. For the last four days that’s where he spent most of his time. It had been four full days since the close call with Dridish’s moon.
As far as he could tell the ship was wildly off course and speeding off into space. He often called for help on the radio, hoping to contact a passing spaceship, but he heard nothing. He reasoned he was out of the shipping lanes, where other craft frequently flew in routes between planets, at least the ones dotted with bustling cities full of people. From his science classes he knew that some planets of the star cluster were barren wastelands. Few people, if any, made these desolate places their home. So he would encounter one of these worlds.
For the last few days Captain Buff woke for short periods of time. Drake was able to get him to drink water mixed with H3A1. That’s the special nutrient that Drake’s Uncle Leon took the year before. Leon had nearly died from an illness, but the miracle liquid saved his life.
Sometimes when the captain awoke, Drake explained the condition of the ship, Buff listened for a few minutes before drifting off to sleep again.
More alarms sounded, making the confusing situation even worse.
“Urgent course correction needed. Danger ahead,” the ship’s navigation system repeated.
Drake watched helplessly. Out the front window a bright object was growing larger by the minute. The computers were trying to direct the ship away from the approaching object, but the only working engine was not able. This time, the spaceship was going to crash into what Drake was sure was a planet. So many alarms rang out that he gave up trying to make sense of them. Drake did the only thing he could do, pray.
An hour later the glowing planet filled the entire spacecraft’s front window. From the ship’s bridge Drake studied the strange world. He could see the tan surface was broken only by a handful of mountain ranges. Then, fiery red and orange waves engulfed the ship as it entered the planet’s atmosphere. Drake could barely stay in his seat from the bone-rattling turbulence. Seconds later, the darkness of space disappeared from the window, replaced instead by a pale orange sky above, and a vast wasteland below.
“Hello, is anyone there?” Drake shouted into the radio microphone. “Can anyone hear me?”
A voice crackled in his ears, but then went silent. Drake strained to listen. Someone, or something, responded, but in a language he didn’t understand. He repeated the call for help, but no one answered.
As the ground grew closer, the ship’s computers tried to bring the craft in for a landing. By Drake’s estimation, it was still traveling much too fast to touch down safely. It would only be seconds now. Drake crawled into a jump seat, strapped himself, and braced himself for the impact.
“God please don’t let me die. I want to see my family again,” Drake repeated over and over.
When the ship hit the ground, it was like nothing the young space traveler ever imagined. He was tossed around in his seat like a rag doll while horrific sounds of metal twisting and breaking came from all directions. Then everything went dead silent. Smoke filled the bridge as Drake came to his senses. By some miracle he was unhurt except for some scrapes and bruises. But what about the captain?
Drake staggered to the cabin to find Buff face down on the floor. He carefully turned him over and let out a sigh of relief when the captain opened his eyes.
“What happened?” Captain Buff whispered.
“It’s alright. We crash landed, but we’re okay.”
For now, Drake left him on the floor, but slipped a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket. Outside the porthole the wind sent clouds of dust and smoke swilling up into the sky. He scrambled through the wreckage but found no fires. When he opened the door to the cargo hold daylight streamed in. The ship had broken apart. Some of the giant containers were still secured, but others were lying on the open ground. Off in the distance the ship’s stern rested in the desert sands. Black smoke poured from the mangled engines.
While he was glad to be alive, he asked himself, “now what?”
Drake crawled through the maze of shipping containers; some had been tossed about like toy blocks. Once he reached the open ground, he squinted from the harsh desert light. Scanning the horizon for any signs of civilization, he could see nothing but empty sand in all directions and mountains far off in the distance. Then he remembered the radio. Back on the bridge he sat at the comms station and spoke into the microphone. He listened for the voice he had heard earlier, but there was nothing but silence. The radio operator’s monitor was filled with error codes and computer messages. Throughout the bridge the last few monitors flickered and then went black as if the ship breathed its last dying breath. In frustration, Drake tossed the headset down and sat back in his seat. He stared straight ahead.
“I made it this far,” he told himself. “I can’t give up now.”
Back in the captain’s cabin, he hoisted the elderly man up and laid him on his bed. He cleaned the captain’s head and wrapped it with a fresh bandage. By now night was approaching, so the exhausted boy went to his own cabin, dropped himself onto his bed, and tried to sleep. He never felt lonelier in his life. Home seemed like a galaxy away.