"What have we got, Tim?"

"I don't know exactly, Cap. As far as I can tell it's metal… not sure what kind, though. It's got a heading straight out into inter-galactic space."

"How is it moving?" asked Captain Reeves.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to have any thrusters. Maybe something launched it."

"Sheila, get a lock on it with the tractor beams."

"Tractor beams locked on, sir," announced Sheila glancing at the vid-monitor displaying the updated picture of the beam's path. She tossed her long black hair back and rubbed her eyes.

"Good, bring it in. And easy now," said Captain Reeves calmly, with one hand on the back of Sheila's chair, also looking intently at the monitor.

"I'll try and get a close up of the object," said Tim pressing a few keys on the panel before him. "No good, too much distortion from the tractor beam."

The soft humming noise of the tractor beam filled the room as the entire bridge crew watched the vid-monitor silently.

"What's going on? We pulling something in?" asked Kate Muller walking on to the bridge.

"Yes, it's some sort of metallic object. We can't get a good look at it right now, though," said Reeves.

Tim Baxter adjusted a dial before him, regulating the speed of the object toward the ship's cargo bay. He wore thick glasses that he insisted he preferred much better to any optical implants. His red hair quite bedraggled and unruly reflected the rest of his outlook on personal appearance. He cared little about the numerous stains on his shirt saying that they added character to it. He was about five foot six and the cleanest article of clothing he had on was his glasses.

Sheila wore a jumpsuit that fit just a little tight and a pair of very good running shoes. She spun around her chair and stood up, starting to walk to the transport tubules. As she walked past Tyrone (usually just called Spence), the ship's resident Tec-wizard, watched her go, then went to join her by the tubules.

Michael Reeves was tall, about six foot three inches and his presence demanded attention. His dark brown hair and deep blue eyes made him very easy to pay attention to. He stood up straight, stretching his back. He was the only one in the ship who actually wore any rank insignia, partially due to the fact that he was the only one other than Kate Muller who had a rank worth mentioning.

But nobody knew that Kate, the ship's doctor, had a rank, let alone that of Lt. Commander.

"Alright, it's in," stated Tim excitedly, standing up. "Let's go check it out."

Everyone on the bridge made a movement toward the transport tubules. The entire trip had been pretty uneventful as of yet, and their destination was still a good three months away. With most of the miners and commercial passengers in suspended animation, the ship was operating on a skeleton crew. Any relief from the monotony was jumped at if not fought over.

"C'mon Reeves, -er Captain, let us go," pleaded Spence.

"Leave the Bridge to itself?" questioned Reeves incredulously.

"If I may get a word in edgeways, Captain?" said the computer in its usual calming tone, "I would like to remind you that I am completely capable of handling the ship for periods as long as 6 months with zero course deviation. I feel totally capable of maintaining the ship for half an hour."

"Eve, do I detect a note of sarcasm in your voice?" inquired Tyrone jokingly.

"She's got a point," said Sheila, turning to look at the Captain.

Captain Michael Reeves looked at his crew, annoyed, then, with a sigh, shook his head and pointed to the transport tubules.

"Get outa here and to the cargo bay before I change my mind."

Four full syllables into his sentence and the bridge was empty, except for himself.

"Thank you, Eve, for that very convincing argument."

"I had no intention of undermining your authority," began the computer in an apologetic tone. "It seemed that you were unsure as to whether the ship would be safe in your absence, and I wanted to reassure--"

"That's alright Eve. No harm done," assured Michael, then under his breath, "yet."

Michael walked slowly to the tube and instructed it to send him to the cargo bay.

When the tubule transport's doors had opened and he had stepped out of it, he saw the crew crowded in mass around something on the floor.

"Clear away from the thing! Let me get a look at it."

"Ok, Cap," said Sheila, making way for the captain. "Get ready for a surprise."

The object was rectangular about six feet in length, with rounded corners. It was made of some sort of highly reflective metal. The lights of the cargo bay appeared clearly on the surface of the metal that bent their image slightly in its smooth curves. On the flat face of it was a rectangular window that was about three feet long and nearly as wide as the object was. Below the glass on a plaque-like rectangle, there were strange bronze or brass plates with simplistic images and words that were of no language or alphabet Reeves had ever seen.

On the otherwise flawless metal above the plaques and below the window there was carved in relief a large triangle. Within the triangle there was another triangle inscribed, a smaller and flipped image of the larger triangle. It made three smaller triangles in each corner of the largest triangle. Within them, increasingly smaller concentric triangles were visible. The space that was empty within the triangle was entirely black and dull, a strong contrast to the gleam of the rest of the box.

"It looks like a frickin' coffin to me," stated Tim.

"A little classy for your tastes, I think," retorted Sheila.

Inside the object, visible through the clear window, was a child of no more than seven years of age with very light blond hair. He appeared to be sleeping.

"Are we gonna open it, Mike?" questioned Spence.

"What do you say, Kate; is it safe?" asked Reeves.

"I don't see anything to indicate any disease or contagion, but just to be sure, let's put down a quarantine field around it so if there is anything it won't get any farther than the bay."

"Agreed. Tim, drop a quarantine field," ordered the Captain.

As Tim secured the field, Sheila and Tyrone examined the strange box for any sort of opening mechanism. Tim nodded that the field was in place. Tyrone and Sheila found two hand holds in the box with latches and hefted open the lid. As the top tilted open, there was a sudden rush as air flowed out of the box as the air pressure in the object equalized with that of the ship's.

The child lay there on the red bottom of the box, unmoving.

Kate approached the body of the child and searched for vital signs. She turned to face the crew and just as she was about to announce that he appeared to be dead, the child's eyes opened, and he coughed weakly. Startled, Kate spun around quickly and looked back at the little boy. He coughed again, stopped and then tried to sit up.

The child looked about, appearing scared. His eyes darted to and from all the people surrounding him.

"Back up everybody," ordered Kate, "give him some space!"

Upon hearing the screaming voice of Kate Muller, the boy cringed. He tried to make himself small. Noticing this, Tim approached, concerned.

"You're safe, in a space-ship," Tim said calmly.

The boy looked at Tim, uncomprehendingly. Tilting his head to one side, he started to speak, but not in any language they knew.

"It's ok, you're safe," said Tim again.

The child noticeably relaxed, smiled, and swung his legs out of the metal box. Saying something again unrecognizable he hopped out and started pointing at different objects.

The entire crew laughed, relieved to see that the boy was less shaken than they were. Kate looked back at the Captain as if asking a question. He nodded.

"Tim, how about you show the kid around?"

"Sure thing. Hey, kid, this way," said Tim. "What did you say your name was?"

The two walked away, with Tim talking excitedly, not caring whether or not the boy understood him. The rest of the crew chuckled softly to themselves.

"Well, I'm happy to see that Tim has found someone of comparable maturity level to play with," said Sheila in her typical sarcastic tone.

"That's a little insulting," said Tyrone, a smile on his face, "we hardly know that kid."

Sheila and Tyrone walk off together poking snide comments at Tim. Kate moved a little closer to the Captain, a worried look on her face.

"That kid wasn't showing any vital signs before he started coughing," she said. "He wasn't showing any signs of the typical cryo-torpidity when he walked off with Tim. His vitals just turned on like a switch. I want to find out how this cryo-pod works. At any rate I'd like to take a look at the kid a little bit later if it's alright."

"Certainly, any time you can tear him away from Tim is fine."

"Where did we find this thing, Captain?"

"It was just out there, in open space, drifting on its way into inter-galactic space. It's a wonder we caught it at all," said Reeves. "Oh, and if you see Tyrone, tell him to take a look at this metal thing and see how that kid is still alive."

"If I see him, I will. Right now I've gotta check out one of the cryo-pods that seems to be having problems."

Kate left and Michael was alone in the cargo bay with the metal box. He stared at the foreign object in his cargo bay, and the more he did, the more it seemed to him to resemble a coffin. He approached it uneasily.

He gave a cursory look to the small plaques on the surface of the object, adding more weight to the argument that the object was a coffin, of a vessel, of some sort. The plaques seemed to tell a story but some were missing and it was hard to decipher. The letters below the plaques, and the words they formed were of no language he knew, or had ever seen.

Something about it was unsettling.

"What the hell was it doing floating in the middle of deep space?" he asked himself.

The actual object was much larger than the part the kid was in. He was tempted to take it apart and work out how the object functioned, but he decided to leave that for Tyrone to deal with.

He turned around, walked to the tubule, told it to take him to his quarters, and left.

The gleaming metal coffin sat, silently, in the middle of the cargo bay, looking ominously out of place.

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