The loss of the comm system and some of the exterior sensors was of no immediate concern. The failure of the aux memory was an annoyance but wasn’t sufficient to merit waking the engineer from cryo-sleep early. His shift followed mine and all of these failures could wait.

The ethereal harmonies of the siren song became my constant companion, inviting me to dance wherever I wandered through the ship. I set the ship’s monitors to display the scenes captured by the few functioning exterior cameras. Except for small puffs of disturbed sand, vague shapes moving through the cobalt gloom or all-too-brief flickers of things more solid, there was little to see.

Then, in the final week of my month-long shift, her face appeared on the monitors, indistinct at first but becoming clearer with each passing hour. With some amusement, perfect indigo eyes set in an oval face of translucent cerulean watched me from the monitors. Her lips formed a single whispered syllable that infused into her music: John. My name…