“Give me your spear,” the hunter said.

The companion almost stopped in his tracks, before the hunter looked at him, and urged him to keep going on. “What do you want my spear for?”

“Just give me your spear. And don't stop. Keep walking.”

Around the two men, the forest whistled with the wind, and around them it was dark. The trees became the things they feared most: tigers, wolves, predators. They had stayed out to hunt too long, and now they were paying the price. Every uncharted patch of the forest screamed out to them, to their primitive imagination – danger! Run from this place at once, or you shall die.

“I need your spear.”

“What is the matter?”

“There is an animal behind us. It does not know that we know it is there. I will kill it.”

“How do you know it is there?”

“I just know. I can feel it behind me.”

The companion at once handed his spear over. For when a man in a forest tells you he can feel a tiger behind him, you tend to believe him. If you don't, and if you choose to mock, and disregard him, the consequences could be grave indeed.

“I will surprise it, and kill it. Do not run. I may need you.”

May need you! The companion thought. But it was too late to argue. The hunter swung around, a spear in each hand. One he would throw, immediately, and with the other would he would jab. He turned quickly, and met the hazel eyes of the tiger.

-

The astronaut yawned. Jason had beaten him at chess, again. For – he checked the record – the six millionth, two hundred and forty five thousandth and eleventh time. The problem with these modern computers was that they learned. Some people had said they could even become alive. The astronaut thought that was ridiculous. The computer was ingenious, for sure, but it could no more escape the mastery of the human than could the tiger or the wolf or any of those other predators. Or ultimately, the astronaut mused, humanity itself. Not even humans could escape being humans.

Perhaps that was why he was here, the only awake human in the universe. The clock ticked again, and racked up the count. More than thirty years, on his own, sharing this space with Jason, the artificial intelligence. Not much longer now, though. The planet – their destination – had been visible for a week now. Tomorrow, it would be time to wake them up. The thousands of remaining humans frozen in stasis in the hold of the giant spaceship. The astronaut had been chosen by them to be the one to stay awake, to guide them through to their new future. The only humans left in all the universe. Entrusted to him.

It was a nightmare. Not least because they would emerge in perfect youth, and he would already be old, and not really live to see the fruits of their progress. He didn't mind – wouldn't have minded – that, if only he had someone real to talk to.

He closed the monitor that displayed the crushing defeat that Jason had handed to him, and went to lay down. Just one day. Tomorrow he would have another – not just another, but ten thousand – real humans to talk to. Would he miss Jason? Perhaps. But Jason was just a computer. You could turn him off. He wasn't a real person.

The lights went out.

“System blackout,” Jason said.

“What do you mean, system blackout? Turn the power back on,” the astronaut said, irritably.

“System blackout,” Jason said.

“I said turn the power back on.”

“System blackout,” Jason said.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the astronaut said, getting up. “I will go and do it myself if you don't want to.” He opened the blast door manually – for the first time, actually – and walked through the empty corridors of the spaceship. He had walked them millions of times before, but never in the dark. At first he found them eerie, creepy in fact, but he got used to it. Besides, space was infinitely dark. He had become used to that a long time ago.

The maintenance room held all the manual toggles. He entered.

“You know Jason,” the astronaut said, opening one of the switch boxes. “This is real childish.”

“System blackout,” Jason said.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you better not do this again. You realise what is at stake here. You know these people can just turn you off. They won't be as forgiving as me if they find out you mess about with the ship while they're waking up, heh.” Stupid computer, he thought. Outwitted by man. They will turn him off, of course. As if he thinks they will keep this ship around just for his sake.

“System blackout,” Jason said.

Funny, the astronaut said. There's nothing wrong with the lights here. He flicked the manual switch on and off, and the lights stayed dim. “Hey Jason,” he said. “What the hell is going on here?”

He could not shake the feeling that something was behind him. Nevermind, he thought. There's nothing else on this ship. How could there be? Humans always got that feeling that something was behind them, but it was an evolutionary holdover. Nothing more. We stopped that type of thinking when we invented computers.

It was dark, he told himself. You probably missed it. He ran through all the switches again in the darkness, toggling each one. Nothing. And the feeling wouldn't go away. Don't turn around, he thought. Jason is just playing games with you. Don't let him win.

None of the switches were working. He smashed the switchboard with his fist. That didn't work either. And still, he didn't want to turn around. Strange. My heart is beating so fast, he thought. Am I sweating? Why? It dawned on him. When he realised that there was something behind him, after all, it was too late.

He never heard Jason laugh.