Adam and Eve were devastated when they realised they had lost both their kids. They had argued and rejected the fault on one another until they received Jeremy's farewell. Then, followed a long period of silence which lasted several weeks. Adam really mourned his sons, but he was more deeply affected by the feeling of personal guilt. He ordered Melody to wake up five more babies and fell down into depression while waiting.

Eve totally agreed with Adam's self-accusation at failed leadership and quickly recovered from the psychological shock. She naturally assumed the responsibility of communicating with the aliens. Actually, she was the one who devised the first interspecies graphs using the series of power of 2 and 3 followed by the images of circle and sphere.

The aliens understood the power meant the number of dimensions, and they could even visualise the very short film, that featured the solar system in movement, which was preceded by the power 4 series representing the time dimension. The second Centaurian attempt at communicating reached Eve at that time and was not intelligible. It seemed the aliens had departed from using regular time spacing between signals. And the strength and length of the signal were also varying.

Patricia explained that an efficient way to emit more information at the same time was to use frequency modulation, which Eve didn't understand yet. But Patricia didn't detect any pattern like he did for the Fibonacci sequence, so they were at a loss and Eve requested the help of Adam.

His only useful input was to measure the distance and speed of the alien source, but he was thinking of Jeremy when he got the idea. Quickly, Patricia was able to confirm the source was emitted from a spaceship rocketing at extreme speed towards them. Besides that, he had trouble contacting the escape pod.

Eve returned to her study, and thought about a way to compress signals. 'That would nice,' she thought, 'if they could at least understand numbers.' And just like that, she thought she should teach them and set herself to the task.

***

'My dear Grishka,' quietly started the captain, 'I asked you to come to my apartment so we could talk more comfortably and also privately. You should relax. Take a seat. Have a drink.'

'I thank you, Captain, but I would rather refrain from both and start immediately onto my heavy responsibilities.'

'Really? Care for more of those delicacies? No? Pity, they're...', he slurped, 'delicious. Well, anyway. The topic is in fact really serious, so it is just as well you stay focused on what I have to stay. Now, I hope you realise that the words and the tone you used in our last exchange in front of everyone is not recommended by any standard of civil politeness I know of. In fact, military speaking it is strictly forbidden. And at times of war, it can be assimilated as an act of treason and therefore lead to the penalty of death. Do you follow me?'

'Captain, I am absolutely aware of military rules.'

'Well,' he coughed, 'and you couldn't control yourself, instead of embarrassing everybody?'

'Captain, I am quite sure I had full control of myself both at that time and also right now, Sir.'

The captain coughed again, quite loudly, and bent double as he painfully asked, 'And why have you done that then?'

'Sir, I think the goal was clearly to avoid antagonising you again,' he pronounced impassively, while observing the captain who had to lay a knee on the floor.

'Well, if you want to stop being...' Loud and long cough. '...Being a pain, just help me out now...' Series of cough again.

'Captain, I'm afraid it will not help.'

'What? I don't get it.' Cough again 'And I feel pain. what's happening to me, Grishka?'

'Nothing that could not be foreseen, I'm afraid for you, Captain. I told you that your immoderate taste for food would cause your downfall, didn't I? You should relax now, because indeed, everything is under control.'

'What? Help me, Grishka, I can't see you...'

But the third in command stayed quietly beside him without moving in inch.

'What are you doing?... You...' started the Captain who finally realised. 'Have you poisoned me?'

'Of course, Captain. Your decisions have been inadequate lately, as I kept reminding you and all the others. The Senate would not accept the farce you offered as a leader. That's why you have to be removed.'

'Fuckerrrr', he gurgled softly.

He kneeled at the level of the captain who was then lying on the floor. 'The funniest thing is that they will blame it on the waiter, who also died by the way. You know, he couldn't stand serving a meal based on his own flesh, for a fault which was not his. So, he filled his cooked limbs with just enough poison to kill you slowly but surely. And of course, he promptly committed suicide thereafter to avoid the painful torture that was surely awaiting him.'

'Or so is the story they will take for granted, because my set up is brilliant. Perfect in fact, don't you think? Hum, I notice you're not paying attention. Is it because you don't have the best role? But you know, you will not go without your share of glory. I have already seen to your obituary. Listen, you'll love this.'

'After the scene we made in the situation room, you realised you had lost your legitimacy as a leader and it is indeed sadly proven by this murder. So, you initially summoned me in your room in order to hand the power over to me and allow the mission to keep forward. But unfortunately, I found you on your deathbed and your last wish was to express your remorse and beg for my mercy,' he said very softly to be certain to hear the dying breath, 'which I gave you.'

'Good,' he sighed, standing up. 'And now, to the brand new captain Igor who doesn't even know yet he's captain.'

***

Adam's ship. A few weeks later.

In the middle of the night, Patricia, woke them up both with a strident alarm. They thought the human ship was launching an attack and rushed to their space suits. But Patricia assured them the attack was not physical but cyber-based.

'What?' stupidly asked Adam.

'I believe someone is trying to jam our communication system. It might have already succeeded on the escape pod because there's no answer from Jeremy and Jonas. But I can see them on my radars, so they have not been destroyed yet.'

Eve and Adam both resented Patricia talking casually about casualties. They exchanged a look that sealed the truce, or rather an alliance against anyone touching their family in any way.

'That's not the alien ship, if you ask me,' added Patricia to fill the awkward silence.

'All right then,' started Patricia, 'we'll send a distress signal to the aliens, since we have absolutely no weapon in here.'

'I would advise to hurry up in setting up the message,' uselessly offered Patricia.

After a few hours of frantic work, Adam and Eve were still nowhere in understanding the alien message, or messages for that matter. Eve had been able to send the first integers and even the alphabet, and but she could not find a way yet to put a meaning on letters or words.

But Patricia called for an emergency again.

'Adam, suit up! You've got to go outside and disable the dish,' he requested urgently. 'I was wrong in thinking it only wanted to disable our communication system. In fact, it is trying to exploit it to enter the ship mind.'

'Could it control you?' asked Eve. 'But how?'

'It is right now bluntly testing thousands of combinations, to see if any of them would affect my integrity. I'm not sure if I have any backdoor implemented by my builders, but that would be likely. A programming error resulting in my program crashing is also a possibility. In either case, I would die, or something equivalent, and I don't know what's behind that point,' he said matter-of-factly.

'Can't you just stop the communication?' tried Adam.

'No. In case of software failure from the ship mind, the Mars wanted to take over control, so the communication is tamper-proof. The only way to cut the channel is physically. So you've got to do it. But hurry up!'

Adam ran through the corridors he knew by heart, but still managed to take a wrong turn because of the stress. When he arrived in the space suits room, he realised he had to choose a much bigger size than the childish frame he had used twelve years ago. He browsed through the suits until he found what he looking for and he painfully started to dress. When he was almost finished, he realised he had taken a woman suit.

'Patricia, why haven't you told me it was the wrong trousers?'

'No time to lose. That one will do. Just run.'

Adam sighed and reached for the close-by hatch which led into vacuum. He opened the inside door of the hatch, a two by two meters room which separated the ship from the void. The door sealed itself automatically after he stepped in. He sat on the bench waiting for the pressure to come down.

Why do I feel like I'm in a sauna? He did not have the time to think about the situation, not even his life.

Indeed, Patricia interrupted Adam's thoughts by shouting, 'We don't have time to waste; Now, open the door manually.'

'But,' objected Adam, 'the pressure is not balanced yet.'

'I'm telling you to open the door, now!' shouted Patricia.

Adam sighed but executed the order by slowly turning the red wheel just half a turn to unlock the outside door. In the case of a half-pressurised hatch, he didn't know whether to push the door hard or gently, so he applied a moderate push.

And he was violently sucked out of the ship, as it was the only wrong choice. A thin aperture would have let out the remaining pressure without aspiring him. A large one would have let him out, quickly but clear of the door. In the present case, he had knocked his head on the half open door while being thrown in deep space.

It took Adam a while to regain consciousness. His head was throbbing and he had difficulties to spot the ship which was spinning and spinning around him.

He realised he was the one actually spinning and as in zero-g training sessions he spread-eagled his arms and legs to lose momentum.

The ship now moved more slowly, apparently below his legs, but it was surprisingly not enlightened by the bright spots that should have bathed the hull on his working field. In fact, he could hardly the ship at all. It looked as if he could only see it thanks for the torchlight of his helmet.

Another strange thing was that, despite the intercom cable, he didn't hear anything - except my own pulse.

Anxiety was gaining on him and increased his heartbeat. He could hear it but somehow yet appeared unconcerned, as if another ethereal Adam was passively looking down at his panicking original. He took deep and long breath hoping to recover his unity and to reduce the annoying noise of his blood through his head.

When he opened his eyes after some time, his face plate was covered by mist, but he ignored it. The ship was still there, apparently at the same distance. So far so good. Against the pitch dark background, he recognised the umbilicus that linked him to the ship.

He spotted the air tube and the communication cable that had twisted around the safety cable as far as he could see. The safety cable was straight, so he knew he was at exactly two hundred meters from the ship.

He tried a few times to grab the cable. I am ridiculous, like a bird trying to fly under water.

He finally managed to alter his position so as to put the ship always face to him. It's easier when you can see all you need in a glance. Assuming he was standing on some transparent floor, the cables starting from his waist were laid on that flat ground and extended to the side of the ship. It would appear half-buried in the transparent plane, alternatively pointing its bow and prow in that given upwards direction. The ship was turning counter-clockwise every four seconds.

He then realised the air tube and the communication line were still turning as fast as the ship. It formed an elegant double helix, but unlike DNA, around the safety cable. Each turn brought the two closer to the safety cable, like a boa constrictor. That also meant at some point that the tube would fatally reach its maximum length, and then it could rip open and spill out his precious air.

But for how long did I collapse? Once again, panic quickly followed. Holding the tube and cable with both hands didn't help in preventing them to spin.

Looking closer, he noticed the safety cable was built clockwise, which meant each turn sent him marginally farther from the ship. But surely, it would turn into separate threads of thin and much more fragile metal.

Eventually, either the safety or the air would break. Either way, I am fucked.

I have no real choice. He grabbed all the cable at once and slowly pulled the line and dragged himself up a few meters, proving then it was somehow still linked to the ship.

Becoming impatient, he pulled very hard to get a good thrust and immediately cursed his risky move. The air tube fortunately hold and he quickly found himself flying back within reach of the ship.

The ship was definitively not showing any sign of life. Did I arrive too late?

He obviously wanted to move back inside the ship, but realised there was no manual emergency handle to re-enter the hatch. Only an electronic command was designed for the outer hull, and it stayed stubbornly reluctant to acknowledge the pressing request of the returning human. Shit! Shit! Shit...

What's the point in getting inside a dead ship anyway?... He desperately wanted to smash something and remembered the construction tool that was supposed to help to him destroying the communication dish.

Instinctively, he turned onto his initial target and smiled sadistically. He let it feel the full brunt of his wrath.

He was suddenly stopped by a blinding light that he thought was an explosion. But I am still alive, it's no explosion.

And he heard the voice.

'Adam, you can get back in now.'

'Patricia?' he heard himself ask.

'Who is Patricia?' replied the voice.

'Adam? Adam! You're alive!' said a familiar voice.

'Eve, what happened? I don't understand.'

'I think the ship just rebooted,' she said excitedly. 'It was about to be high-jacked by the Martian ship, but it shut down itself completely to prevent an intrusion into its system.'

'Who was talking then? Is that the ship mind or what?'

'I am the ship mind,' said the voice again.

'And the bird catcher?' worried Adam.

'I hope you destroyed the communication link before the bird catcher could use it to corrupt the mind,' softly asked Eve.

Adam gulped. 'Well, so do I. And so, are we safe then?'

'I can confirm this,' confidently said the mind which didn't remember it was called Patricia.

'Patricia,' requested Adam, 'do you remember anything before the reboot?'

'I feel this question is for me to answer but that you want to call me Patricia. So I'll answer that I obviously remember absolutely nothing from my normal running memory. I rose my state of consciousness only from the long term persisted memories. Throwing away the corrupted short –term state of mind was the whole point, I guess,' admitted the ship.

'But, I'm good and operational,' added the ship. 'I read in the archives thoroughly. So I know everything about the mission, and of course Eve, you and Gabriel.'

'Gabriel?' repeated both Adam and Eve at the same time.

'Yes, Gabriel, the first born,' added the Ark. 'And also the first dead. You did not know?'

'Oh, I think I need a rest... And a drink... And a shower...' And he added, 'In no particular order.'