Ep.229 – Twelve Days - The Horrors of Space at Christmas

WEBVTT

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Many struggle with the reality of spending
Christmas alone. But what if you were

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absolutely alone? You were on a
spaceship deep in the galaxy. Everyone else

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is in cryogenic sleep, but you
You're wide awake. But worse yet,

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you've just realized you're not actually alone. What's that you want to be scared

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to? Come with me. You
will experience tales over our broad ghosts and

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death. It is not recommended in
the foot of week at hard listen as

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in the dark. It's more fun
at that way way. This is Weekly

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Speaking, Hello, my Spookyes,
it's Wednesday, and you know what that

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means. It's time for a little
spooky in your weekly. I'm your host

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and narrator, Enrique Kuto, and
I am so excited to bring you the

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first of a whole lot of holiday
flavored horrors just for you, my dear

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spooky listener. But before we get
to that, I want to say thank

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you so much for listening to the
show. I know a lot of you

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have been with us for quite a
while, but even more have just joined

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up since this October. I wanted
to excitedly announce something coming to our Patreon

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for those of you who've been considering
for a while joining and contributing a little

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help to us. Every month,
at the end of this month, on

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Thursday, the twenty eighth, we're
going to be publishing the first of a

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twelve part series in Strickfield called The
Week, written by Rob Fields. That's

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right, an exclusive Strickfield story just
for patrons. Every month will release another

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part of the story until all twelve
parts are released, and then you'll have

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the full book, all yours to
listen to. So if you've been putting

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off signing up for Patreon and you
love what Rob Fields and I have been

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doing with the Strickfield universe, now
is the perfect time to head over to

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Weeklyspooky dot com and click on Patreon. For as little as one dollar a

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month, you'll get access to all
kinds of bonus content and of course this

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very special Strickfield Maxi series. Now, what is it about? Just wait,

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because on Thursday we'll publish the first
episode for all of you to hear

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00:02:50.960 --> 00:02:55.000
as a little taste. But now, my friends, it's about time to

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get Christmasy. But not just a
regular Christmas y. Oh no no,

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because my good buddy Mike the Birdman
would never do that. No, no,

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We're getting Christmasy in outer space,
so put on your space helmets right

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after these quick words twelve days by
Mike Ashcuey to whom it may concern.

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The following data logs were recovered from
the wreckage and flight recorder of the United

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Earth Colony ship Roanoke in the year
twenty three seventy. The data contained within

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is from the lone custodial engineer aboard
the vessel during its journey to the proposed

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colony site on planet l V Life
Viable five two nine. The original colony

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mission was launched from Pluto Station in
twenty two eighty and was projected to take

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twenty five years. Support staff,
their families, as well as a number

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of colonists were estimated to have numbered
at two thousand. All crew and support

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staff are resumed to have perished under
questionable circumstances between December twelfth, twenty two

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ninety and December twenty fifth, twenty
two ninety. Certain portions of the record

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have been redacted to protect United Earth
military interests and to protect certain individuals as

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well. Records will officially become available
for public consumption in January two thy five

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hundred via Freedom of information request.
Please retain all confidential information as eyes only

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clearance. Contact your United Earth Military
Science Division Support officer for additional questions and

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follow up. Sincerely, Recovery Officer, Titan Outpost air in Reaching Date February

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second, twenty three, seventy five
Roanoke Colony ship flight recorder data stream begins

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audio log number one, December twelfth, twenty two ninety Good morning, is

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this thing on? This is Custodia
Engineer David Lambert, and this is my

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maintenance shift aboard the Roanoke. My
logs will be recorded via audio and by

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the ship's virtual intelligence aka Vinnie.
Well nah. He always wanted me to

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go out and get a job,
and well here i am. I'm on

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the frontier of space and with a
whole new family of about two thousand.

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Maybe now I'll find a wife,
a or maybe a husband. I've always

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considered dating an android too, so
maybe we can have robo babies. A

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brave new world for me. It's
December twelfth, and I'm the only one

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awake aboard the ship while everyone else
is in cryo sleep for the next several

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months. They need someone to make
sure we don't bounce too close to a

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star or accidentally veer off course.
Now odds are I'll volunteer and run a

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maintenance shift again and let everyone stay
frozen, and I'll stay awake for two

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weeks and maintain the systems. They
only need a person to stay awake for

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a few weeks at a time to
maintain things, and then go back to

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sleep for a few months, then
rinse and repeat. It's like I'm a

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captain of my own ship in a
sense. I'll wake up again in March,

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make sure we're all still alive and
going where we're supposed to go,

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and not wake up any of the
United Earth's stuffed shirts unless I have to.

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It's lonely, but I don't mind. I have Vinnie to keep me

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company, and the entire Library of
Congress on Hollow and every soccer match in

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history. I'll be all right.
It's Christmas time here and well I'm gonna

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decorate, even if it's only for
myself and Vinnie. I managed to make

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some tinsel out of some stuff I
found in the engineering toolroom. I think

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it's fiber optics of some sort,
or maybe some of that nanotube stuff.

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I think maybe tomorrow i'll see if
I can put up a tree or some

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sort in the mess hall. I
know it's just me and the AI,

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but it at least makes me feel
somewhat like home. While I'm here,

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I'll check the computer systems life support
and make sure the slipstream drives output is

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within acceptable range. We won't hit
our first milestone for another few years of

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this journey, but gotta make sure
I crossed the eyes and dot the t's

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wait, is that the phrase?
Fuck it? Never mind? Vinnie and

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audio Log number one audio Log number
two, December thirteenth, twenty two,

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ninety log, Day two of maintenance
shift. I was checking the computer logs

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yesterday and found something weird. Seems
like about two weeks ago, we had

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a small containment breach in one of
the lower science laboratories. It was supposed

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to be related to something that some
of the scientists had called. Sounds kind

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of scary to me, but none
of my business. Don't know how I

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feel about them messing with redacted,
But then again, I'm not supposed to

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understand it. It was likely caused
when we came a little close to a

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radiation anomaly while in slip space.
Vinnie, the ship's computer chose not to

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wake anyone up because it was deemed
not a threat, but did note it

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in the ship's log. Guess I
didn't see it till this morning, when

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I went through it all manually.
Weird. No one should get too pissy

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at me, right, Vinnie,
Why didn't you wake anyone up? Is

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that you being nice by letting us
sleep in the freezers a bit longer?

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Or is it a malfunction in your
computer core? Guess I'll take a look

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tomorrow, but right now I have
more important things to do. I found

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an old robotic exoskeleton that I can
turn into a kind of Christmas tree.

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I'll probably decorate it tonight and listen
to old Christmas tunes while doing my reports.

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My moms and I used to always
celebrate Christmas and make it a big

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deal. We'd have hot cocoa and
watch Hollows, and we'd have a ski

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trip too. I missed my mom's
come to think of it, Will they

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even be a lot I have?
When we reached the new colony, can't

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even send a transmission in slipstream without
a massive time delay. I hope they're

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okay. Audiologue number three, December
fourteenth, twenty two ninety. I went

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down to the redacted lab this morning
and it's a mess. Stuff was strewn

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everywhere, and it seems something broke
out of one of the organic experiment labs.

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It's supposed to be harmless genetic experimentation. I think stuff with grown hormones

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and cross species. Doctor redacted is
not going to be happy. She always

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seemed grumpy anyway, So what do
I care. I've noted it with Vinnie,

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and internal sensors are actively sweeping each
deck. What more can I do?

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All biologics are supposed to be frozen
solid for the trip, or at

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least in minimal activity and securely monitored
for twenty five years. I don't think

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it's dangerous. I mean it's pro
probably some designer animal that somebody wants to

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field test on a new planet.
If it was dangerous at all, Vinnie

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would have warned me maybe it's a
kiddy. Would that be too much to

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hope for? I know the lab
is secure at least Vinnie has the doors

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hermetically sealed. It'll take a scientist's
authorization. It's someone else's problem. Now.

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I've cleaned up and secured the lab
as best I can, and accounted

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for all the labeled growth experiments.
All experiment pods are locked up tight and

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cryo seals are in place. Likely
going to set up in the mess hall

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tonight and watch a bunch of movies
and maybe rehydrate a turkey dinner. It'll

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be a nice way to unwind after
the day i've had. Audio Logue number

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four, December sixteenth, twenty two
ninety Something bad happened this morning. I'm

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sorry to report that we lost a
portion of the crew. NNI is compiling

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data now, but it seems like
there was an accident in one of the

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cryopods bays. Most of the military
cruise pods failed. There was a malfunction

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inside their cryopods and it flooded them
with the freezing solution. They were basically

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all frozen solid and the bodies were
destroyed in a way that I don't care

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to describe. For the record,
Vinnie can explain in a more scientifically detailed

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method. If you wish, the
poor bastards didn't feel a thing, I

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don't think so. Anyway, we
lost three hundred people in the blink of

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an eye. I met a loss
for words. I'll perform my full account

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of the dead and then I'll begin
procedures to wake up the command crew and

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inform them of what happened. I
don't want to be alone anymore. Weirdest

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thing, though, there was music
playing in the cryo bay as I entered.

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It was silent night. I didn't
do that. But if I didn't

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do that, then who did?
That? Has to be my imagination?

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Too many long hours stuck on this
boat Audio log number six, December seventeenth,

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twenty two ninety. I can't bring
the other cryopods online, the command

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crew, the support staff. I
can't even wake up another custodial engineer.

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The system refuses to respond. Vinnie
is reporting a system wide failure relating to

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the reanimation system caused by yesterday's failure. It believes it can be repaired,

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but it'll involve taking him offline for
several days while it runs low level diagnostics.

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It would just be me and the
ship and maybe whatever else is on

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board. This has to be just
an accident and a coincidence. I'll clean

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up as respectfully as I can,
but I may let the ship's reclamation and

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automated systems deal with it. Burial
in space isn't so bad, right,

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I know they deserve better, but
look, I'm just a custodian. I

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don't get paid enough to put people
into buckets to be later identified. I'm

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not overly religious, but maybe I'll
I'll pray for them tonight or something,

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say a few nice things. I'll, I'll say something anything. Wait,

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strike that from the record. Please
shit, Vinnie's offline. Please strike that

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from the record. Fuck Audiologue number
seven, December nineteenth, twenty two ninety.

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Vinnie is still offline and repairing themselves. Something weird is going on here.

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In turn, all motion sensors keep
going off on random decks. I've

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00:14:03.720 --> 00:14:07.120
had motion detected on the engineering level, recreation centers, and even some in

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the nursery cryopods. I still am
unable to wake the crew. I even

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went down to the main command level
and tried to manually override the captain's pod.

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She's still sound asleep. Communications are
also completely offline as well. According

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to the logs, they were manually
taken offline over a month ago. Something

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is wrong here. I'm afraid to
go to sleep right now. I'm going

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to go down to the armory and
get a gun and sleep with it beside

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me. Probably overkill, though,
what was that thing that Mom used to

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say, Happiness is a warm gun. It'll make me feel safer if I

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get a gun. I'm getting a
gun. Audio Log number eight, December

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twentieth, twenty two ninety. Life
support keeps flicking on and off between the

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decks. Sometimes it's perfectly warm and
suitable for people, and other times it's

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almost as cold as the vacuum outside
the ship. Internal alarms keep going off

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in the room and now in the
computer core. I can't get into the

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lab area though I sealed it off
a few days ago, and without doctor

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authorization or one of her flunkies,
I'm locked out. I guess I could

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try blowing the door and seeing what
happens, but I don't want to risk

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rupturing the bulkheads. I doubt that
seismic survey charges would work anyway. I

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went through the mess hall today and
sat by my Christmas tree and tried to

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find a few minutes to get my
thoughts together. I thought I'd feel safer

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here, someplace familiar. It didn't
work. I swear the exoskeleton suit had

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moved where I'd put it now.
I haven't slept a lot in the last

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twenty four hours, so I could
be imagining it. I'm also positive I

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faintly heard something over the ship's intercoms, like it was something only I could

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hear. Again, I haven't been
sleeping well. Vinnie should be back online

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soon. Then I won't be alone. He'll wake up the crew and I

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won't be alone. I won't need
this gun anymore. Oh yeah, this

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is David Lambert or whatever. Christ
I need to sleep. Audio log number

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nine, December twenty second, twenty
two ninety more dead. I think we

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lost around eight hundred in the middle
of the night. What in the fuck

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happened? The pods are flooded.
They drowned in their sleep, even the

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kids. Vinnie came back online for
a few but isn't responsive to commands.

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He won't even say hello to me, just silence. But I know he

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can hear me. I know it
sounds crazy, but I know I heard

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something laughing over the intercoms. When
I entered the Colonist's cryogenic section, internal

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censors went offline, but not before
I saw I saw something on the monitors.

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That robotic exoskeleton was walking around the
corridors. It doesn't even have a

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computer core. It's a fucking husk. It can't act independently. I am

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not fucking crazy. Why am I
still recording these Someone has to know what

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the fuck is happening here. I
am not crazy. I didn't kill these

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people. Mom. I'm sorry.
I didn't say goodbye to you, to

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either of you. Please God help
me. Audio Logue number ten, December

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twenty third, twenty two ninety I'm
being hunted now. Vinnie isn't a virtual

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intelligence. It's an artificial intelligence,
and he it, whatever it is,

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wants me dead. Something escaped from
the redacted labs and contaminated the biological portions

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of his computer core. Vinnie took
the exoskeleton and is hunting me. Deck

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00:18:36.640 --> 00:18:42.119
by deck, Vinnie is alive and
has a body. Now he is the

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ship and at the same time is
stalking the ship in a robotic suit that

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I just had to drag up from
storage. Power randomly fluxes off across the

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different decks and sections. Vinnie controls
the ship. If the rest of the

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crew isn't by now, they soon
will be. I took this portable recorder,

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which goes directly to the flight recorder, which is independent of his operating

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systems. I don't think the pistol
I have can pierce the exoskeletons plating.

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It's funny. I'm going to be
murdered by something that was supposed to bring

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00:19:18.240 --> 00:19:22.440
me joy? Did I mention?
I made it a funny little Santa Hatan

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beard. I'm going to die out
here, and there isn't a whole lot

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00:19:29.839 --> 00:19:34.359
I can do about it. I
thought we were friends, Vinnie, didn't

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I treat you right? I thought
we were friends. Audio Log number eleven,

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00:19:45.359 --> 00:19:51.799
December twenty fourth, twenty two ninety. Vinnie is slowly siphoning off the

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00:19:51.839 --> 00:19:57.400
air on the ship. I'll suffocate
in less than twenty four hours, and

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00:19:57.440 --> 00:20:02.119
there isn't a lot that I can
do about it. I can't get into

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00:20:02.119 --> 00:20:06.119
the vehicle section to even get a
spacesuit. The bay is locked tight,

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00:20:06.160 --> 00:20:08.079
and even if I could, Vinnie
blew the doors and all the suits,

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00:20:08.279 --> 00:20:15.400
vehicles and everything was blown into space. I don't even think we're in slip

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00:20:15.440 --> 00:20:19.160
space anymore. I don't feel the
hum of the engines anymore. I think

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00:20:19.240 --> 00:20:23.759
Vinnie is toying with me. Now, he's playing with the environmental controls,

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and it's starting to get colder where
I am. I can see my breath

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00:20:30.240 --> 00:20:36.119
and it's it's so cold, I
can't even hold the pistol steady. The

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00:20:36.160 --> 00:20:40.440
ship's speakers are playing Santa Claus is
coming to town at a frequency that only

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00:20:40.480 --> 00:20:45.920
I can hear. I fucking hate
Christmas. Maybe I have one last thing

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00:20:45.960 --> 00:20:52.000
I can do before I eventually suffocate. I'm not going to let this son

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00:20:52.000 --> 00:20:56.920
of a bitch take me down,
not without a fight. Ho Ho ho,

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00:20:57.160 --> 00:21:06.559
motherfucker. Final data entry for United
Earth Colonies ship Roanoke. Custodial Engineer

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00:21:06.640 --> 00:21:11.839
David Lambert initiated liquid nitrogen purge in
the engineering deck, critically damaging all systems

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and leaving the ship adrift. On
December twenty fifth, twenty ninety at twelve

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00:21:15.599 --> 00:21:21.640
oh one am. Ship has suffered
critical engine failure to slipstream drive. Ship

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no longer able to complete mission objectives. Ship's virtual intelligence disabled by unknown user

233
00:21:26.640 --> 00:21:32.720
experiment redacted unaccounted for as of December
twenty fifth, twenty ninety. Escape pod

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00:21:32.759 --> 00:21:37.759
launched with zero biological life signs aboard. All crew and support staff dead due

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00:21:37.759 --> 00:21:44.200
to catastrophic failure across multiple systems,
cause likely sabotage. Internal reporting of mental

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00:21:44.200 --> 00:21:48.880
instability of crewmember. Custodial engineer David
Lambert likely responsible for crew and vessel destruction.

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00:21:49.640 --> 00:21:56.960
Recommend investigation and activation of redacted protocol. Distress Beacon activated on December thirty

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first, twenty ninety by unknown user, waiting salvage and recovery operations end transmission.

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I know there's a cold snap going
through the Midwest right now, but

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I don't think that's what I'm feeling. I think I'm feeling the chillingness of

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00:22:15.680 --> 00:22:19.880
this story. I love a good
sci fi tale that scares you a little

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00:22:19.920 --> 00:22:25.640
bit or a lot of bit,
had echoes of alien all throughout it.

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00:22:26.119 --> 00:22:30.039
Thank you all for joining us as
we begin the holiday season here at Weekly

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00:22:30.119 --> 00:22:36.119
Spooky After Halloween. This is my
absolute favorite time of year to publish the

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00:22:36.119 --> 00:22:40.640
scary stories we all need as we
get through our long and grueling, but

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00:22:40.839 --> 00:22:45.200
ultimately hopefully rewarding holiday season. And
I want you to know that we're going

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00:22:45.240 --> 00:22:48.240
to have lots and lots of Weekly
Spooky for you. In fact, we'll

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00:22:48.279 --> 00:22:52.759
be presenting more stories, more special
shows, more interviews, and a lot

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00:22:52.839 --> 00:22:57.119
more all throughout December. So if
you work a job that's going to have

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00:22:57.200 --> 00:23:02.480
a lot of long hours, or
you're simply busy preparing for the holiday,

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00:23:02.640 --> 00:23:06.559
we'll have lots of fears for your
ears. Hey, you like that,

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00:23:06.839 --> 00:23:11.039
and I want to remind you again
join our Patreon at Weeklyspooky dot com click

253
00:23:11.079 --> 00:23:14.160
on Patreon for as little as one
dollar a month, you'll get access to

254
00:23:14.200 --> 00:23:18.160
the brand new Strickfield mini series,
The Weekend, which starts this month.

255
00:23:18.599 --> 00:23:22.920
And I want to say an extra
special big thank you to our Patreon podcast

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00:23:22.960 --> 00:23:26.839
boosters, folks who pay just a
little bit more to hear their names on

257
00:23:26.920 --> 00:23:30.720
the show. And they are Johnny
Nicks, John cowanbobotopia dot Com, Megan

258
00:23:30.799 --> 00:23:34.640
Hua, Julia Kirsh, Brent McCalla, Steve King, Karen Wee, met

259
00:23:34.759 --> 00:23:38.359
Jack Kerr, and Craig Cohen.
Thank you guys so much for your support.

260
00:23:38.559 --> 00:23:41.000
It really does mean the world to
me. And if you want to

261
00:23:41.079 --> 00:23:45.839
join them, just go to Weeklyspooky
dot com, click on Patreon and choose

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00:23:45.839 --> 00:23:49.599
a tear that works the best for
you. You'll not only get my undying

263
00:23:49.720 --> 00:23:56.200
appreciation, but you'll also get an
exclusive Strickfield story just for you, the

264
00:23:56.240 --> 00:23:57.759
Patriots. But now, my friends, I got to get out of here

265
00:23:57.759 --> 00:24:03.599
because I've got a lot of Christmas
themed content to crank out for all of

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00:24:03.640 --> 00:24:06.799
you. But I appreciate you a
whole hell of a lot, and I'll

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see you real soon. In fact, this Friday, we'll have another Christmas

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00:24:10.000 --> 00:24:12.680
compilation waiting for you, so look
forward to that. For myself, for

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00:24:12.759 --> 00:24:17.000
my executive producer Rob Fields, my
producer Dan Wilder, and our composer Ray

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00:24:17.039 --> 00:24:21.559
Maddis. Talk at you later.
Thank you for listening to me. Make

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00:24:21.640 --> 00:24:26.319
sure to find your way back next
week week. But for now you are

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00:24:26.440 --> 00:24:30.240
safe, trust me.