Ship's Log: January 7

There was a myriad of round dials of varying sizes. Devereux guessed that the two largest ones were the most important—or at least the ones most frequently needed. She knew, from practical piloting experience, that in cases of a system malfunction any of the status indicators could be the most important. Of the two dials, the left one seemed to indicate velocity, based on its greater range of numbers than the one on the right. Both sat at zero, as she expected, since the vehicle was not in motion. That was the key issue, she mused: how to get the vehicle moving. She had little desire to remain here in the desert until another vehicle appeared. Not only was she growing impatient, but it might lead to awkward questions about the vehicle's original occupants.

She noted again the object inserted into a slot toward the lower right of the throttle column. An array of objects dangled from a chain attached to it; she had no idea of their functions. Many appeared to be solely decorative. Silently, she studied the entire assembly, deciding that it was some kind of security device, intended to keep unauthorized personnel from operating the vehicle. Not a problem, she hoped, as the device remained intact. As long as it doesn't also require a fingerprint or retinal scan . . . Gingerly, she touched the dark end of the object, relieved when no alarms sounded and she did not receive any kind of warning shock.

The odd labels around the circumference seemed to indicate various operational modes. She had no idea what any of them might be, but she felt reasonably confident that none of them were self-destruct. It seemed unlikely, she decided, that a vehicle like this, in this era, would have such a capability. She reached out and gripped the small device more firmly, attempting to turn it in the direction of one of the other markings. It did not move at once, she applied slightly more pressure until she felt a reassuring movement as it turned downward toward the next marking.

She jumped back against the seat, releasing her hold on the device as a loud grinding sound issued from the front of the vehicle. It was silenced at once. Devereux felt her heart race at the sudden noise, forcing herself to calm down. Nothing had exploded. She only hoped that she had not managed to damage the vehicle.

Her eye caught a trio of levers on the floor. The one on the right was largest, so again probably the most-used. Another security device? she wondered. Devereux released a quiet sigh. Operating one of these primitive vehicles was a lot more complex than she had anticipated. Well, she chided herself, it is primitive. For a moment, she wished she had not been forced to kill the pilot and his passenger, but she somehow doubted either would have made this process much easier. In addition, her ignorance of how to operate the vehicle might likely have raised suspicions and questions.