~<strong>Enio Pellegrini: "I must find a way out of here before 'they' find me."</strong>~<br/><br/>The speakers inside the helmet of the vacum-walk suit replied only with the sound of static. But there had to be other people who had survived he crash! It would be impossible that of all of them he was the only one alive. Impossible and horrible. "Hello... if anyone is hearing, respond now. Hello.. come on... try the intercom... If the mic is broke, get the two cables that connect it and touch them together for one instant then get them appart again for a few seconds... then touch them together for another instant and get them appart again... Hello, hello..."<br/><br/>He finally had reached the end of the corridor where he was and in front of the door that was there. It was locked, as he had thought it to be and pressing the button to open it did nothing, he would have been surprised if power would still run through the hydraulics.<em>What now, what now.</em>"Think think think..." He spoke to himself. He needed some encouraging and there was noone but his own self to do that.<br/><br/>He thought again of the 'thing' outside and couldn't keep his curiosity to look for a spot on the wall where he could see it again. But where he was the line of sight to outside was blocked towards, he could see small patches of the outside, but not the ruin itself. How far were 'they', could 'they' see him or hear him? Were 'they' watching him like a lab mouse in a maze while he was trying to find a way and get to the next corridor, the more towards the rear part of the crashed ship?  He remained silent and still and amplified the outside microphones of the walk suit and sound speakers inside of his helmet to the maximum. After playing a few moments with the instrument panel on his left forearm, he tuned them to infrasound and ultrasound frequencies, projecting them into hearable sounds. A cacophony of noise poured through and he focused his mind trying to make any sense of the myriad of sounds. There was wind outside and blowing through the holes of the crashed ship, there were objects moving or dislocating by it, there were sounds of the flora being washed from the wind. But nothing so far resembled animal-like sounds. Nothing so regular or out of place, nothing so repetitive.<em>At least I don't risk being eaten or beaten or shot upon, or something.</em><br/><br/>He went up against the jamed door of the airlock between the corridor. He touched it with the visor of his helmet and with any hard part of his vacuum-walk suit, and listened, keeping as silent as possible. The next corridor was empty, no sounds or human voices could be picked up from the mics. He would listen for anything that the metallic walls could convey and after a few moments he moved to another spot against the end wall and listened again. But it didn't seem to him that he was having much of good results. He changed spots a couple of more times and listened before he would give it up and jump to his next idea.