In space, no one can hear you screa...forget it, too cliche
Dirk stood in the airlock without a space suit on, staring at the button to open
the door. It was tempting, so damned tempting. It was almost as if the pretty
little red button beckoned to him, "push me." Yet, there was something
preventing him from doing it. Whether it was pride, honor, or just plain
cowardice, Dirk just couldn't push the button.
The inner door wooshed open as he stepped back into the main part of the ship.
Although he had given up the idea of suicide, he didn't feel any better. How
can one feel better while hearing an overbearing voice constantly blabbering
away in his head without a reason or a clue as to why? If he had wanted that,
he would have just kept living at home. Maybe it was the environment. After
all, in the few short months Dirk's been on this bucket he's been almost killed
by a bootleg V.R. game gone awry (damn those copyright protection programs),
taken on an maniacal pimpbot, discovered a person (actually a better
classification would just be Dren, as not to wholly associate him with the human
race) who no one realized had been in a stasis chamber since before the ship's
maiden voyage, been attacked by genetic freaks of aliens on an away mission,
abandoned on said away mission by the rest of his party to wander the dangerous
jungle alone and with massive bloodloss and injuries, and had gotten caught up
in a possibly fatal feud with the insane criminals that security just let run
around in the bowels of the ship. Those types of things could wear a man down,
especially in such a short amount of time.
"I need someone to talk to," he finally admitted. "It seems as though there is
only one choice left for me."
An hour later, Dirk was sitting in the cinema lobby talking to one of the
scutters. "So, you see, Dan, I just don't know how to handle this thing. I'm
just cracking up. I need some advice." The machine whirred. "Well, no, I
haven't really had much contact with home since I came onboard. But I really
don't think that's the problem, since I didn't spend much time at home when I
lived there. .......... Are you sure? ..... I don't know. It seems like
there's something else in there," Dirk points to his own head. "It's almost
like there's yet another voice in there, but it's someone else's. Like a
stranger has climbed up into my mind. ....... NO, YOU CAN'T HAVE MY TV WHEN
THEY SEND ME TO THE LOONEY BIN!!!!!" The scutter rolled off, back into the
theater to watch THE GREEN BERETS.
Dirk decided that the best thearapy was the oldest. He went to Parrotts to get
in the closest condition to comatosed without needing lifesupport.
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