The Space Station - Chapter 1 - Page 2

The ship droned-on through space. Functionary drowsed restlessly on his bunk in the warmth of the ship, every now and then waking fully as his head jerked downwards in an unintentional nod. Normal day-time hours mattered little in space, as there was no star to order the process of waking and retiring, but ships ran on something called “earth-time”. This was a historical reference to the planet from whence humans had originated, although, Functionary had never been there and knew little of it save what remained in his head from school history lessons. Following this routine of “earth-time”, most of the ship’s inhabitants would be asleep and few would be wandering the corridors or occupying its public spaces. Only those crew members whose watch it was would be awake and out of their rooms and they would be tasked to man the bridge or one of the other closed-off control spaces, such as, engines and communications. Seized to take advantage of this likely absence of sentient presence, Functionary jumped from his bunk, went to the steel basin in the corner of the cabin and, waiting for the water to run truly cold, cupped it in his hands and forced it into his face. Fully awake now, and quickly dressed, he touched the button that slid open the door of his cabin and stepped out into the corridor beyond. The corridor was just like his cabin and the rest of the ship, in that there was the ever presence of metal structure and riveting coated in a plastic paint of a dull pastel shade. There was the same cosy, rather sleepy warmth. There was the interminable drone of the distant propulsion units and, closer, the more irregular sounds of mechanics and electronics. Salient against the pastel blandness of the general decor, the floor was marked with lines, punctuated with arrows, indicating the headings for common destinations. More generally, the floors and part of the lower walls had coverings of various colours indicating who was entitled to be there. The dark grey of the flooring of this corridor indicated that it was common space open to all on the ship. Functionary's path coincided with a green line which ultimately led to a relative large space which doubled as mess, lounge and observation deck. Indeed, for Functionary, who was merely travelling upon the ship, this was the limit of the ship's public space. Whatever his official capacity elsewhere, here he was merely one of the travelling public and had no authority – a fact which, to Functionary, emphasised the pass to which his life had come.