The sound of dripping conduit pipes and the flickering of overused phosphor-light made the service passageway look smaller than it actually was. Kate walked quickly along the damp passageway, her feet causing dull metallic thuds on the iron floor grating.

"What a wonderful place to spend a year," thought Kate glancing at the iron riveted walls, wet with condensation. "This entire ship should be space-docked or just plain driven into a nearby star and incinerated. It's incredible the equipment NexusCorp is still using." She did not particularly look forward to a cry-bed failure either, recalling the pungent smell of accelerated decaying flesh from a previous experience. Taking another reluctant breath of the moist, dank, air, she reassured herself by saying aloud, "It's all going in the report."

"What is?"

Kate jumped. Her eyes shot upward and her hand went involuntarily to her hip where her gun was usually kept. She made a mental note about her opinion of NexusCorp's weapons policy. There was a gray-haired man standing in the middle of the hallway and she hadn't even noticed him she was so busy with her own thoughts. Who could this man be? He certainly wasn't a member of the active crew list.

"Who are you?"

"Ah ah ah. Not fair, I asked my question first," stated the man in an amused tone.

"I don't care. Tell me who you are and what you're doing on the ship. Don't try to run either," she warned, but upon looking at him again added, "not that it would do you much good."

The man laughed, "You'll get no fight from me, lass. I always feel a little woozy after coming out of cryo-sleep. As for my name I'm Duncan Worthington, the, uh, fourth, I think. You know, I was trying to use a computer near the bed, but for some absurd reason its all in a beta-script alphabet, not in the standard Trantissian."

"You're a passenger?" she blurted out, as she caught up to the rambling man's run away train of thought. "I came up here to check up on a cryo-bed malfunction. I didn't know it woke anyone up. You've still got a good three months before we reach planetfall at Anterrax."

"Never mind that, I always was a bit of an early riser. Oh, pardon me," he said as he put his hand against the wall. "I feel a tad faint. I suppose it's just my... having just woken up and..."

But he was sinking to the floor before he finished his sentence and Kate barely managed to catch him before he collapsed entirely.

"Well, Duncan, welcome back to the land of the living," said Kate as she began to prop the man up.

"Oh, dear, that was sudden. I'm alright now."

"Just the same, let's just get you back to med lab; you seem to have some symptoms of a little cryo-jet-lag."

"Lead on, doctor."

In another tunnel on a lower level of the ship, Tyrone and Sheila trod across the metal walkways.

"I can't believe I never told you that one!" exclaimed Tyrone. "Me and Tim have been crewin' together for years. And I think he's still wearing the same shirt."

The two erupted into peals of laughter.

"It's a shame I missed out on those days," said Sheila. "I wish I had been there."

"So do I."

"Then I guess we have a little catching up to do. Don't you?"

Sheila smiled and continued walking along the corridor not answering. Tyrone watched her go and then started to follow. Twenty feet ahead Sheila stopped, looked at the wall, turned to look back at Tyrone following, and then looked back to the wall.

"What do you make 'o this Spence?" she asked indicating the wall.

He approached, looking at the tangled mess of pipes and exposed wires between two closely spaced corridor ribs. He moved into the space that the two ribs created and moved the wires carefully out of the way. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He turned around about to say something about the wall but Sheila was against him.

She kissed him, and Tyrone was too surprised to react at first. Regaining his senses, he began to kiss back and Sheila put her arms around him. He bumped his head against a heavy pipe but ignored the pain.

"That was easy enough," thought Sheila, still leaning against Tyrone. "Maybe I should really challenge myself and try..."

Sheila stopped suddenly pushing away from Tyrone and looking down the passage way.

"What is it Sheila?" asked Tyrone moving out from around a rib and looking down the passageway. Standing in the middle of the corridor, with a quizzical look on his face, was the boy from the box.

"What are you doing here, you little brat?" queried Sheila annoyed.

"Easy, Sheila, he's probably lost," said Tyrone.

"Well, bloody lose yourself again!"

Tyrone found it hard, but he managed to tear his eyes away from the boy and look at Sheila. What's wrong with her, Tyrone wondered.

Sheila continued to stare at the boy as he stared back at her. Then, without ceremony, he finally turned and walked down another passageway.

"Are you ok, Sheila? He's just a boy, and he's new on the ship. Speaking of being lost, Where the hell is Tim? He's supposed to be looking after him."

"Never mind him. I believe we were rudely interrupted?"

Sheila turned to Tyrone and kissed him. Tyrone considered continuing his line of questioning, but quickly dismissed the idea. A minute later, Tim sauntered past the corridor and continued walking. Ten feet past the junction he stopped, took a few steps back, and looked down the passage again. He smiled, straightened up, and coughed slightly.

Sheila and Tyrone straightened up quickly and gave Tim an angry stare.

"What I do?"

"You lost the kid for starters," began Tyrone.

"He ran off that way about five minutes ago," said Sheila, hinting none too subtly.

"Well, I'll be going now," replied Tim still more cheerfully.

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