On the Persistent Problem of the Pilgrim named Morgenstern

[Coliz]

Inside the Morgenstern, December 1st, 835 AS

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Service corridor 4A, back to the start

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After overcoming what felt like a century of incompatible docking protocols between the Dorado and the Morgenstern—resolved, in practice, by Albert’s manual overrides and a series of discreetly creative insults—the two vessels finally locked together with a resonant metallic clang.

Albert leaned back in his seat.
“There,” he said. “Diplomacy.”

Hans checked the readouts.
“Atmosphere stable,” he announced. “Again. Incredibly.”

The Dorado’s inner doors parted. Stale air drifted in from the Morgenstern—coolant, metal, something faintly mineral and old. Not decay. Just, long-term existence.

“After you,” Hermann began—but Dr. Huber was already across the threshold.“Like she owns the place,” Hermann muttered.

He waited until the rest of the delegation disembarked, lingering just long enough for it to be unclear whether he was being courteous or reconsidering his life choices. Then he drew a breath and stepped back onto the Morgenstern.

The corridor lights of Service corridor 4A were still there.
Faint. Uneven. Persistent.
Déjà vu from eight months ago.

Same lights. Same dust. Same metal layered onto metal without any visible consultation with symmetry. Bulkheads slightly bowed. Ceiling plates refusing to agree on height.

The smell hadn’t changed either.

“The scent is identical,” Hermann observed.

“That means nothing has improved,” Albert replied. “Which, in fairness, is consistent.”

Hans ran a hand along the wall plating.

“I see our technicians kept their promise.”

“Of doing nothing?” Albert asked.

“Of observing only.”

“At least if something collapses,” Albert added, “it will collapse authentically.”

Footsteps approached behind them.

“You have entered through this airlock before?” Huber asked.

“Yes,” Hermann said. “We chose this access point deliberately.”. A pause. “It seemed… appropriate,” he added.

“It seemed like the only one likely to open,” Albert clarified.

Huber raised an eyebrow.

“We were uncertain about the main hangar,” Hans said quickly.

“In what way?”

“That it might not,” Albert replied.

Huber did not pursue the matter. She moved forward down the corridor instead, fingers brushing lightly across the uneven plating.

“This passage has an air of having been negotiated,” she said. “Fused sections. Welded overlaps. Mixed alloys.”

She paused near a pipe that bent at an angle incompatible with polite engineering.

“Whoever worked here,” she continued, “was not concerned with aesthetic continuity.”

“They were likely concerned with continuity in a more immediate sense,” Hans said. “As in continuing to live.”

“So it would appear,” Huber replied.

They proceeded.

Bootsteps echoed with a tone that was neither hollow nor solid, as though something beneath the deck had been reinforced in ways that altered acoustics but not structure. The auxiliary generator hummed somewhere deep in the ship, steady but not entirely confident.

“From here?” Huber asked.

Hermann gestured toward the junction ahead.

“Forward and up leads to Command. Aft and below to Engineering. Midship port for the astrogeological and scientific section. Communications is two levels below Command.”

“And during your previous visit?”

“I went directly to Command,” Hermann said. “They checked the scientific deck and navigation briefly. Then we regrouped at Command and checked together Communications.”

“And nothing beyond that?”

“We considered it prudent,” Hermann replied evenly, “to preserve the remainder in its original condition.”

“At the time,” Albert added, “that seemed responsible.”

“And now?” Huber asked.

Hermann looked down the corridor, then at the floor beneath his boots.

“Now,” he said carefully, “it feels as though we were walking on assumptions.”

One of the ministry officials glanced up from his datapad.

“Then today will be instructive.”

“More or less,” Albert said.

Silence settled. The ship creaked faintly, adjusting to their collective presence.

Huber turned.

“Very well,” she said. “We shall begin where none of you have been.” The trio exchanged a glance—brief, tense, not entirely pleased.

“Only fair,” she added mildly. “You deserve a little discovery as well.”

She activated the holographic deck map.

“If the surveys—yours and ours—are accurate, two levels above and aft should be the primary engineering section and the main reactor.”

Hans blinked.

“You intend to power it up?” His tone had drifted into Albert’s register of concern.

Huber did not slow her stride.

“Let us first determine whether it is capable of objecting,” she said. Then, already several meters ahead of them: “Move along. It promises to be a long day.”