A large crowd is gathering in the main concourse. Finally the ship's crew has called an all-passenger meeting to give us information on what has been happening around here. People are gathered in small groups, heads bowed, talking in hushed tones. From the snippets of conversation I can over-hear, people are scared and they want answers. The only thing on my mind is finding my father. I look to my right to my mother and see her worn face and red puffy eyes. I've never seen her look so tired, even when I was a kid.

"He's got to be here mum don't worry, this is everyone on the ship."

"If he were here Blake, he would have found us by now. It's been three days."

"Look mum, we'll find him, ok."

The speaker system lets out a piercing screech which abruptly stops. The whole concourse is silent. Everyone looks up to the main balcony where there are a group of about 20 crew members in full uniform. I try to scan their faces as they are far away, but none of them are dad. Where is he?

One woman steps forward. She's wearing the recognisable navy blue uniform of the Avalon as are the rest of the crew but hers has gold buttons and a gold stripe around the peaked navy blue hat. It reminds Blake of the uniforms he saw in books in school when they did a project on the civil war. He pushes those thoughts away quickly; he needs to listen carefully to what the captain has to say. How can she possibly explain this jungle that has appeared while all the passengers have been in hyper sleep for 120 years?

"Good afternoon passengers of the Avalon. My name is Kate Duchard and as your captain I would like to officially welcome you aboard this Homestead luxury liner. Congratulations on choosing Homestead 2 for you and your family's future. Room to breathe, room to grow."

She looks flustered as she hands the grey pamphlet she's holding to a crew member seated on her right. She removes her hat and running her hand through her short brown hair, blows air out of her cheeks and approaches the microphone again. This can't be good news.

"As I'm sure you are all aware, certain unexpected events have occurred during our time in hyper sleep. The crew and I, please remember, have also been in hyper sleep for only a month less than each of you. Do not mistake me, I do not wish to cause alarm, that would be the least effective thing I could do right now as commander in chief of this vessel, however, I do feel it is my professional duty and moreover my moral duty to be transparent about what we are dealing with here. The ship has suffered some malformations while we have been asleep..."

Loud gasps arise from varying places in the crowd. People are talking and shouting until the noise level has risen to a point that it seems this whole meeting is about to descend into chaos.

I look to my mother. She suddenly looks all too frail and weak. She looks back at me in despair her sharp brown eyes filling up with tears. I've never seen her like this before. "It's ok mum we will find out what's going on." Her small shoulders drop another few inches as she sighs and continues looking up at Captain Duchard.

"Order please, order." Kate continues. "As you are no doubt aware it seems we have had some stowaways on board the Avalon. Nobody yet knows how or why this has happened but be reassured we are looking into it. I want to ease any concerns you have about the new flora and fauna you will have encountered around the ship..." she waves a hand behind her to the enormous beech tree sprawling gloriously across the lower third of the concourse level. "The natural environment is actually a great asset to us as we continue on the last part of our journey on board the Avalon. It is increasing oxygen levels and the plants are metabolising trace toxins in the air. We will be organising a team to care for it, if you have experience in this field you will find your original skills training has been repurposed to this task."

The floor judders under our feet and a creaking noise comes from the right side of the concourse. This has happened about three times a day since I've been awake. There's nothing more jarring than the feeling of being stranded on a sinking ship.

"It seems the ship is still suffering some very minor altercations. We as your crew are checking the ship's log and continuously running diagnostics. Now we have already fixed quite a lot of the problem but as you can imagine trawling through 120 years of recorded files is quite a task, and one we didn't envisage would be on crew itinerary. Please be patient, look out for one another and comply with all things asked of you by me or my crew members and in this way we will all get to Homestead 2 on schedule, and together. We have been going through the passenger profile records and I will be sending some crew members out this afternoon to speak to some of you individually. These are personal matters so if you see your neighbour receive a visit but you do not, do not worry. We are in unprecedented waters here, nothing like this has ever happened since the advent of long haul space travel and I truly hope you all can get alongside me in doing choosing the best actions for all of us as a group. We are part of the next generation for Homestead 2 and I'm going to get us there safely. Thank you."

The captain, putting her hat back on firmly, almost marches around the corner on the balcony and out of sight. The crew begin to pack up the chairs and follow in the same direction. On the main level the atmosphere is subdued. As the concerned voices blur in to one loud background noise I say nothing and leave my mother and turn the way I came to go back to the hospital bay.

I remember wanting to be a nurse as young as twelve years old. I remember playing in my cousin's garden in Brighton; a long lawned garden with that distinctive sea smell on the air. We were playing on the swing at the end of her garden, my mum and auntie watching on through the glass patio doors, drinking tea as I pushed my little cousin Genevive on the swing feeling impatient for my turn but equally aware of being watched by my mother. We were singing a French nursery rhyme we had been taught from babies by our great grandmother when Genny suddenly fell forward and off the swing to the ground with a great thud. I screamed for my mum as I rushed to help her. I didn't know what to do; Genny was having a fit. Her whole body shook, little bony elbows jutting out. I could see my mother and auntie running as if in slow motion from the house towards us, my auntie screaming out as she threw her mug across the garden. It was the first of many fits for my cousin. I felt a helplessness I had never felt before. That was the day I decided I wanted to spend my life helping other people and as soon as I left high school I applied for my nursing training and graduated with a first last year. That combined with the fact that dad is a flight deck attendant and landed a job when they were recruiting for this voyage meant it seemed a perfect opportunity for us.

The hospital deck is usually one of the quietest sections of any space vessel. As with the emergency capsule pods, it's more of an essential safety net than anything else. With all the passengers aboard this ship being in hyper sleep for the majority of the voyage, this 4 month post was meant to ease me into my first taste of the professional nursing world. But now I don't think it's going to be that simple.

I reported to the hospital bay for my first shift. The sterile non-smell comforts me, after four years of training in hospitals I feel I know where I am. I notice the walls are flanked with the very latest machines and equipment, no expense has been spared. I begin to realise that each one is probably very outdated by now already. That thought rustles around in my mind for a few seconds until I see the small group of doctors, nurses and Avalon staff at the other end of the long, wide room who are in a small crowd around something. The room is low lit; everyone is reporting for their first day of duty there shouldn't be much else going on today. I draw nearer and see they are all silently looking down at an autodoc; a diagnostic pod that replaced a ton of honest manual labour back on earth. As I draw nearer I can see why; there is someone inside it. No-one says anything as I reach forward and touch the glass. She's beautiful, just lying there blissfully unaware in hyper sleep almost like a modern day fair haired sleeping beauty. I break the silence with the question "Who is she?"