I awoke with a jolt, the blaring alarm only serving to worsen my already-splitting headache. Groaning, I lifted my hand, pushing it against the glass of the sleep pod and watching it slide open, the stale air of the ship flooding in and making me cough. 

I forced myself into a sitting position, but as soon as I do, I lean over the edge of the pod, making a horrible sound as I throw the contents of my empty stomach up all over the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” a gruff voice said from the pod next to me. I slowly look up with a scowl, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. Nelson, one of the engineering crew, was looking down at me, a smirk on his face. 

“Piss off,” I spat, clambering out of the pod and making sure not to step in the puke puddle on the ground. I stretched my arms into the air, hearing my joints pop as I did, and letting out a satisfied grunt. Around me, the rest of the crew are also getting out of their pods. A few of them are still puking their guts out, but others are already up and about, talking to each other like they hadn’t been in suspended animation for more than fifty years. 

“Sadie.” I spun around, coming face to face with a tall, grey-haired man missing one of his eyes. 

“Captain,” I respond, standing as straight as I can and performing a crisp salute. He shook his head. 

“How many times did I tell you to treat me no different than the rest of our crew?” 

“Exactly seven times, Captain.” 

“How many more times will I need to tell you before you actually do it?” 

“At least a few more times, Captain.” 

He sighed, patting my shoulder and walking past me. “Get to the bridge and tell Ana to brief you on our course. We should be a few days out from the planet now.” 

“Yes, Captain.” I salute once again, which he completely ignores, walking to the other members of the crew and giving them their orders. I immediately make my way through the halls of our ship towards the bridge, taking the time to gaze out the windows along the way. The stars shone so much brighter out here than they did back home, it made the blackness of space look more like a mosaic than a void of nothing. It was a comforting thought. 

The bridge doors opened, the room of operations laid out before me. The captain’s chair sat in the very centre, surrounded by monitors and seats for the rest of the bridge crew, including my own – the pilot’s station. I went to sit down, wincing at the coldness of the seat, and running my hands over the controls. 

“Ana, you awake?” I asked, pushing a few buttons and making the navigation interface appear on the screen. 

“Good morning, Sadie Rivers. Yes, I am. Was your sleep restful?” A distinctly artificial female voice emitted from the computer in front of me. 

“More or less. Still feeling sick, honestly. We still on course?” 

“We are.” A navigational chart appeared on the screen, displaying a flight path. The small image of their ship was less than an inch away from their destination, a small planet that Command said had an atmosphere and conditions similar to those on Earth. “I estimate we are one day from our destination.” 

“Good, great.” I leaned back in the seat, putting my hands behind my head. “Kept yourself busy for the long years we’ve been sleeping?” 

“You have only been away for eight hours.” 

I sat upright again, frowning. “Incorrect. It’s been fifty years.” 

“By my measure, you were asleep for seven hours, forty-three minutes, and twelve seconds.” 

I blinked. “Something wrong with you? Run diagnostics.” 

“Certainly.” The voice went silent for a while. “Diagnostics complete. No software issues detected. Energy supply ninety-nine percent depleted.” 

My eyes widen. “Ninety-nine percent?” 

“Correct.” 

“How?” 

“The energy reactor has been non-functional for approximately six months and five days.” 

I stare at the screen, not at all comprehending what’s being said. “Then how are we still flying?” 

“We are not.” 

I look out the front of the bridge, watching space fly by, and scoffing. “Alright, clearly something’s wrong. I’m going to reset your system.” My fingers fly across the keyboard, typing in the kill command for Ana. 

“My apologies. Due to the lack of energy, my memory systems are failing. I have not been able to adhere to your previous instructions.” 

“What instructions?” My finger hovers over the enter key, but I wait, curious to see what it would say. 

“You previously instructed me to lie to you about our current situation. I was successful only once, when informing you that we are on course to the destination. I apologise for failing to abide by your commands.” 

“Yeah, alright.” I rolled my eyes, pushing enter and watching the screen go black. It wasn’t often these models suffered from corrupted memory, but after fifty years of constant operation, I figured it might take its toll. 

I waited for Ana to reboot, spinning on my chair. The captain should have been here by now, where was he? 

As I spun, the walls around me began to change. I stopped spinning, frowning and watching intently. The pristine, white walls and immaculate glass windows were shifting, melting into the ground. My eyes widened with horror as cracked, burnt steel replaced them, the glass windows shattered. The vastness of space became an expanse of dusty red dunes extending in every direction. The air was filled with tiny, green spores, and I was inhaling them with every single breath. 

“Ana? Ana, what the fuck is happening?” I shrieked, grabbing the monitor frantically. It turned back on, chiming with the activation jingle. 

“Hello. I am Artificial Navigation Assistant, version 19, here to assist with any navigational or operational needs on board this ship. What can I help you with today?” 

“What the hell is going on?” I yell again. 

“It appears the holographic system has been deactivated. Let me fix that for you.” Suddenly, the walls began to reform, and the air cleared. I was back in space once more. My eyes darted from wall to wall, trying to make any sense of what I just saw. 

“Holograms?” I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. 

“It appears my system was restarted. I apologise for not being able to maintain the holograms for you.” 

“Where are we?” 

“We are one day from our destination.” 

“The truth, Ana!” I shriek. 

“My apologies. We are at our destination.” 

“What happened? How did this happen?” 

“Our ship crashed on the surface of the planet, six months ago. All crew unfortunately perished in the crash, except for Sadie Rivers.” 

“What the fuck,” I muttered, sitting back in my chair, my mouth agape. “But… I saw them! They all woke up with me?” 

“The crew you saw were pre-rendered holographic depictions of the late crew.” 

“How… How didn’t I know about this?” 

“You ordered me to erase your memory of the incident each morning when you wake up.” 

“Fuck.” I look around the empty bridge, biting my nails. “You… You said we were running out of energy. How long until it runs out completely?” 

“Approximately three days.” 

I swallowed hard. “Is our communications relay operational?” 

“You have already attempted to contact a rescue in the past.” 

“Any response?” 

“No. However, it is possible to pick the signal up years after the signal is sent.” 

“Right,” I muttered, thinking. “What if you diverted all your remaining power to the sleep pod? How long would it last then?” 

“As the pods require minimal energy to remain active, one can be powered for approximately seventy years.” 

“Okay,” I breathed, standing up and letting out a shaky breath. “Do not wake me up for any reason. Do not activate any other ship functions and use all remaining power to keep the pod running. Understood?” 

“As you wish.” 

I nodded, balling my hands into fists and walking back towards the pods, only able to hope that a rescue was coming. 

Even if it wasn’t, at least I’d never know.