Author's Note: Starting out as a Lovecraftian horror in a science fiction setting, In the Dying Light transcended that concept to become a study of mankind's potential for both good and evil. An ancient artifact is discovered drifting through space. Retrieved by the first officer of a transport vessel, the object introduces chaos into the regimented structure of the crew, infecting them with its darkness and inspiring obsession. One woman stands between the darkness and the light...will she be enough?

Yakata pulled her communications hood up over her close-cropped ebony hair and triggered the overhead hatch. With the grace of frequent practice, she hauled herself up through the shaft. Propelling herself past the T-junction that branched off toward the cargo bay, she opened the second hatch into the rendezvous station. She closed it behind her before drifting toward the aft window. Yakata pressed the activation button on the side of her com hood. "Command deck…"

There was a sharp chirp before Karl's slightly staticy voice responded by her left ear. "Go ahead, Ma'am."

"I need an update on the incoming object."

There was a pause. While she waited, Yakata peered out into space, as if she had any chance of pinpointing the object without the aid of the cameras. It was getting closer, but not that close.

Another chirp by her ear brought her out of her distraction.

"Ma'am?"

"Go ahead, crewman."

"The object is ten minutes out and closing."

"Acknowledged," she responded, and cut the connection.

Ten minutes. Barely enough time to deploy the arm. She snapped her boots into the dock and engaged the control panel. Powering up the arm, she then hit the sequence instructing it to retrieve the grappling attachment. While the mechanism prepared, she triggered the cargo bay doors. The harsh, strident warning klaxon sounded as a large segment of the ship opened to space. She watched the slow, precise movements of the arm rising from its cradle. It moved so slowly, her teeth gritted and her muscles tensed as she watched. It had to move faster or she would miss the interception point. With her free hand, she depressed the activator on her com hood once more.

"Command deck…"

"Go ahead, Ma'am."

"Feed me the trajectory of the object."

On the panel in front of her, a micro-display came to life. The information she requested played across it. It was going to be close. In preparation, she deployed the grappling net to intersect the flight path. She held her breath as the object came into view. It crested the drive section in a gentle arc, and seemed to flare as it came into contact with the sun's rays, bathing the ship and arm in a startling green glow. It faded in the shadow of the arm. Yakata leaned into the consul, straining to see if she would catch her prize. She had the micro display in front of her, but she found it had a way of skewing perspective. The bank of windows circling the rendezvous station seemed more true to her. The object was close enough she could track it if she narrowed her focus. She was afraid it was going to overshoot the net. Yakata reached for the joystick in front of her and extended the assembly as high as it would go over the drive section.

She wanted to scream. It still looked as if it was going to skim past. Her breath hitched. This was ridiculous. It was space debris. There was no reason she should be so upset. Of course, reason had little to do with emotion. She tried shifting the joystick even further, but the arm was fully extended.

Her father's face drifted unbidden across her thoughts. It felt like she was failing him. She clenched her teeth and forced the thought away. Furious blinking cleared her vision, but she could hardly believe what she saw: the object changed trajectory. It was a slight alteration; barely perceptible except for the drive section being there as a point of reference. Yakata had to wonder if she had really seen it, or if her perspective had been off to begin with. It must have been her imagination. There was no way the thing could have changed its trajectory. It wasn't possible. Short of mechanical means or an outside intervention, an object moving in space would continue along the same path until it encountered another force. And yet, as the artifact plowed into the grappling net Yakata had been certain it was going to miss, she forgot all about the laws of physics. The net closed around the object, locking it into place.

"Yeah!" Her cry was loud and unbridled in the seclusion of the rendezvous station. Only the boot docks kept her from bouncing around the compartment. "Oh, yeah!" She continued to carry on until a burst of unexpected static crackled from her com hood. She felt the blood drain from her face as she went still.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Karl's amused voice came over the connection she'd forgotten to close. "You want to rupture my ear drum?"

"My apologies, crewman," she responded with a degree of dignity she did not currently feel. "The object has been retrieved. I'm retracting the arm and suiting up to secure the salvage."

She cut the connection.

"Shit! Shitshitshit!" Her blood came rushing back into her face with a vengeance. It wasn't like her to forget to close the com connection. Shoving the embarrassment aside, she redirected her attention to her prize.

Yakata input the sequence that returned the arm to its cradle. Another rapid set of keystrokes, and the cargo bay doors closed. She was impatient with the seemingly endless procedure. She wanted to claim her salvage. Recklessness in vacuum, however, could get a spacer killed.

Once everything was locked down, she retreated to the antechamber to climb into her protective constrictor suit. She waited for the green light from the automatic systems check before securing her helmet and engaging the O₂ tanks. Prepped for EVA, Yakata cycled through the airlock into the cargo bay.

It didn't take her long to retrieve an empty storage container. Hauling both it and herself down the length of the arm took little more effort. Once there, she anchored the container to the deck and pulled herself up the handholds along the wall until she was even with the grappling attachment. She hit the manual release, to avoid damaging the equipment or the artifact, and worked the fingers open.

She felt frustrated when she could only touch the surface through the barrier of her suit's skin-tight gloves. The object demanded to be caressed.

In shape it resembled a short, squat obelisk. It tapered slightly from top to bottom and had three columns of unfamiliar symbols running up and down each side. It was metal…apparently old metal, given the deep, dull sheen. The color had a greenish tinge, like ancient bronze. Only this was no metal she recognized. It seemed smooth, almost soft, other than the etching. Otherwise, there were no seams or depressions.

It took extreme effort to lower the thing into the bin. Now was not the time to examine it. She had less than ten minutes to get herself secured for hyperdrive. Yakata worried at the lack of quarantine procedures on the MacKay, but banished her momentary doubts. Every precaution would be taken to minimize exposure with the rest of the ship until she was absolutely certain there was no risk.

Unhitching the container, she hefted it to her shoulder and propelled herself toward the airlock. In the antechamber, she slid her burden into one of the storage lockers by the cargo bay hatch and keyed it to her personal code. It would be safe until she could take it down to the lab, until then, she didn't want anyone else messing with it.

To be continued…