Author: Robert Gilchrist

The door snicked shut behind the Dauphin. Metallic locks hammered with a decisive thud. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe.
Jogging into the room was the Invader. Wearing a red holo-mask to obscure distinguishing features, the figure came up to the door and began running their hands over it as if inspecting a priceless painting.
“You lost,” the Dauphin cackled in glee. Realizing the Invader couldn’t hear – the panic room being soundproofed – he pressed the intercom button. “No getting in now. I can survive in here for days.”
The Invader merely continued their examination. How had they gotten onto the ship? Maybe from the last supply delivery from that disgusting planet. Someone down there would be eviscerated for this. The Invader stepped back and nodded.
The Dauphin mocked his antagonist through the window that looked out at the other side of the locked door. “The only way to blast in would be to blow this ship apart. And even then, the room would probably survive.”
Without speaking – Why didn’t they speak? – the Invader removed their backpack and produced a cylindrical containment unit. From out of this slid a box no larger than a pack of cigarettes.
“Taking a breather before you make a fool of yourself?” The Invader placidly moved towards the door. A faint humming began as they walked closer. “What is that? Some sort of lock pick?” The noise grew louder. The Dauphin felt a vibration through the soles of his bare feet. He hadn’t grabbed his slippers when the Invader attacked him in his sleeping quarters.
The strange device flew out of the Invader’s hand and slammed into the door. The Dauphin flinched, praying the salesman hadn’t lied about the fortitude of this exorbitantly priced security feature.
Seconds ticked by – nothing.
“That’s it?” the Dauphin jeered, hoping his sudden panic hadn’t been obvious. He saw the rectangle now affixed to the door, lying along the frame as well. “All that, just for a magnet?”
“Not a magnet,” the Invader said, their voice electronically distorted by the ever-shifting mask. “Neutron star.”
“A star? You trying to burn me out of here? Read my lips – TEMPERATURE. CONTROLLED.”
“It’s not for getting you out.” The Invader replaced the containment unit inside their pack. “It’s about keeping you in.”
The Dauphin paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Neutron stars can have magnetic fields billions – even trillions – of times stronger than Earth’s. One’s inside that device, shrunk to the size of a pencil tip. And now that it’s stuck on that door, it’s never coming off.”
Anxiety began to choke the Dauphin’s windpipe. He crossed to the control panel inside the room and tried unlocking the door. A whirring noise that grew to a grinding came from inside the wall. A red warning flashed on the screen – ERROR.
“Let me out.” The Invader walked away. The Dauphin shouted at his captor to release him, that they could have anything they wanted, that money and power were no matter, that they could be made King of Earth for all he cared – no one in the heavens, hidden on their own private ships, worried about that mudball anymore – just get him out of this suffocating prison.
No one heard these pleas. The intercom wasn’t on.