As Kaylee searched for the part she needed, accompanied by Zoe in case of emergency, and satisfied her itch of curiousness at the same time, Hank and Mal headed for the bridge. To both men’s surprise it turned out to be small, not much larger than Serenity’s. Its surfaces might have been shiny chrome, but it had an air of lost hope, as if it had been alone for decades.

“Somehow I thought it would be more impressive,” Hank said, sitting down in the seat in front of the main console under the screen that spanned the room. His keen eye ran over the array of controls, and in a moment he found the one he wanted. The screen started to glow into life, and suddenly the stars came out. He grunted in pleasure, his claustrophobia easing a little.

“No space for a co-pilot,” Mal observed. “’Less one of these is.” He touched the back of one of the four chairs facing the wall either side.

“Can’t see that’s likely. Looks to me more like they’re for checking analyses of some kind, but don’t ask me what.”

Mal leaned forward, and realised some of the dials and read-outs reminded him of the infirmary. “Some kind of telemetry?”

“Maybe. But this ain’t like anything I’ve seen before, so for all I know this could be making sure the coffee machine’s hot enough.”

“Well, you come across that machine, you let me know. I could do with one right now.” Mal returned to his pilot’s side. “Can you find the switch for the net?”

“It might take me a while. I don’t want to go pressing things I don’t have to, just in case something nasty happens.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, like maybe the zombies hidden deep in the bowels of the ship wake up and come out to attack us.”

Inside his suit Mal raised his eyebrows. “Zombies?”

“Or maybe vampires. Hanging upside down from the conduits.”

“Hank, that’s it. No more scary movies for you. I’ve seen you on the late watch.“

“Have to have something to do,” Hank complained.

“Then take one of your books with you. Honestly, they’re bad enough, but horror vids? Banned.