Oxygen bled into the chill of vacuum. The thick vein through which it flowed made no attempt to restrict the flow.If there was life in it, or the exoskeleton over which it ran, nerves would have pinpointed the rupture. Future years brought this advancement, but age was against them, those thousands inhabiting the bowels of this massive form.
For them the chill and vacuum of space meant death. So they slept, dormant like a virus waiting to inhabit a new world.
If it could think, it may have woken some of them to warn of the loss of the life giving liquid. It didn’t, so waking would not happen until seven days before arrival.
If it could feel, it may have noticed the mechanised unit eventually crawling across its surface to notice the rupture. It didn’t so no haste was required.
If it were alive, it may have cared that the loss of oxygen meant remaining supply was insufficient. It wasn’t and waited only for further instructions, which would occur after the waking.
It did what it was designed to do. It moved in the direction it was pointed and stopped when told.
If told.
© Rod Loader
- Story length
- short story