Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Wrong Place, Wrong Time
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 214

K32A clicked and whirled his external limbs and lights in a mad panic as he floated aimlessly in deep space. As the lower deck waste management robot, K32A was not equipped with flight capacity; there was no reason why he should be outside the ship at any time. The small cylindrical metal arms waved slowly in the zero gravity of the cold and lonely vacuum of space. This effort made no difference to the direction K32A floated and there was no logical reason for the small robot to continue doing so, but continue he did.

In the distance, Spectre 42 slowly moved away into the distance, leaving a trail of garbage floating aimlessly around K32A.

“Help, me.” K32A cried out, knowing that nobody would be able to hear.

In a state of humane distress and anxiety, the four-foot tall bipedal robot tried its communication circuit to no avail. The reception was long out of range of the internal ship’s channel.

“I was still cleaning the debris from the crash landing. The doors shouldn’t have been opened.”

K32A assessed its power supply and was saddened to see that things did not look promising. There would be enough battery power to remain functional for six years at minimal power, with superfluous functions shut down.

“Help me!”