It's not an S // Superman

Chapter 15

"See what?" Clark questioned, wary another robot could be making its way over to us.

Turning quickly so Clark was facing the same direction as me, we glimpsed a tall, bearded man standing at the end of the corridor. He wore a textured robe over what looked like a blue, skin tight wetsuit. Clark taking hold of my hand once more started towards him, not saying a word but obviously eager to discover the identity of this strange individual who had peered out of nowhere.

The figure ducked silently around the corner, vanishing from sight. Clark shifted his vision to peer through the walls and find him, but the alien substance resisted him along the entire spectrum, from infrared to ultraviolet, further evidence that everything around us was not of this world.

"Hello?" We both called out, chasing after the man, our minds awhirl with questions.

"Clark this ship has been buried for twenty thousand years. How could anybody still be alive aboard?"

"It's not possible, but we both saw him Lauren. We've got to find him," Clark answered, desperation seeping through every word.

We raced down a long curved corridor and into a large vaulted chamber. In front of us stood a clear barrier, behind which lay a chamber filled with a translucent fluid of some sort. Feathery branches, like giant ferns, drifted slowly within the liquid. Empty globules budded along the branches. A phosphorescent green radiance spread through the water.

"What the hell is this Clark? It's like a hydroponic garden." I was taken aback by what I was looking at, and I couldn't help but move closer towards the scene in front of me. It was captivating, other worldly. I'd never seen anything like it.

"It smells like saline, definitely not a garden. It's something far more alien. I'm sure of it." Clark moving to pull me to his side, he to overwhelmed by the sight before him.

I was a journalist. Prose were my profession, and over the course of my lifetime, first as an army brat, then being the girlfriend of an alien to now being a reporter I thought I'd seen it all. That nothing could surprise me. Oh how I was wrong.

An elevated platform overlooked the liquid filled chamber. Cylinder shaped consoles rose like coral from the floor to the deck. It looked as if it might be the bridge of the nameless ship. Cracked tiles and screens showed signs of damage. Moving away from Clark momentarily whilst he stared in awe at the sights around him I inspected the controls, hesitant to touch anything. The robot sentry had proved that at least some of the ships systems were still active. After years of reporting and working with computers I thought I knew a thing or two about tech systems. Turns out I had absolutely no idea.

Giving up I walked back to Clark and placing my hand in his outstretched one we decided to navigate and search the bridge a bit, eager to find more.

Four heavily padded couches were arranged in the centre of the bridge. Clark guessed that the seats were probably intended to protect the crew from a crash landing or something to that effect. He was more than likely right. He usually was. Three of the couches were occupied by human like skeletons wearing full body suits of some unknown material. The fourth was empty. Had there been a survivor?

Out of nowhere the bearded figure appeared again, right in front of us. He lingered long enough for us to spot him and then darted around a corner once again. What was his problem? It was as though he was deliberately leading us on. From the way Clark gritted his teeth and gripped onto his hair with his free hand I could tell he wasn't happy. We weren't here to play games.

Once again we chased after the mystery man, Clark not failing to tell me to stay at his side for what seemed the hundredth time since we entered the ship. I wasn't arguing. When we came to a stop we appeared to be in an armoury of some sorts. Sturdy hard shell space suits, clearly meant to withstand hostile environments were mounted on the walls. Form fitting body suits also hanging amongst them.