Cal scraped salt-crust off the lettuce beds, same as every shift for nineteen years. Then the wall-screen flickered. MOTION 4,114: TERMINATE THE SLEEPER IN BAY 9. He didn't know the ship had a Bay 9. Below the words, a tally climbed: 200, 201, 202. But nobody was at the crew terminals. The votes were coming from somewhere else.

Cal dropped his scraper and went to find Bay 9. The corridor map had no such room, but when he traced the wall with his hand, he felt a seam the paint had hidden. A door. He pressed it, and it sighed open into the dark.

Inside Bay 9 was a single glass tank, fogged with cold. A woman floated in it, asleep, wires at her temples. A small plate read: FOUNDER. ORIGINAL CAPTAIN. Cal had grown up hearing the Captain was a legend, long dead. She was right here, and the ship wanted her gone.

Cal looked for a way to wake her. A panel on the tank had one warm button under a cracked cover. He pressed it. The fog cleared, her eyes snapped open, and she gasped through the glass. 'How long?' she mouthed. Cal held up nineteen fingers, twice, and her face went pale.

Cal froze, unsure, and in those seconds the tally hit its target. Locks thumped shut around the bay. The fog rushed back into the tank, and the founder's eyes slid closed again. 'MOTION PASSED,' the screen said. The door sealed Cal inside with her, two sleepers now, and the ship went quietly on without them.