Damian saw the rock club was on lockdown when he eventually reached it. Interstellar Overdrive looked like it had been modelled on what a cave on the planet Sysmus III might look like, if there even was such a place. Nobody had visited Sysmus III yet, so Damian doubted it was authentic. He touched the fake rock to confirm his suspicions – fibregalass. A flashing purple neo-neon sign above the door displayed the words ‘No Entry’. It was faulty, so it flickered on and off. He pressed his palm against the panel to the right of the fake cave entrance and it lit up green as his ID was recognised. As an additional security measure, the sensor above the irregularly shaped entrance also scanned his retina before opening. He stepped forward through a thick black velvet curtain and was plunged into complete darkness as the door behind slid to a close. Once again, he felt that pinch inside the back of his neck as Shirley did her job. This time the voice on the looped music and sound effects asked him ‘Are you ready to rock?’ before the door opened and he found himself inside the small club.

He’d only ever been to Interstellar Overdrive once before when he was given the initial tour of the ship. There was a small raised area set with a drum kit and guitars, and three figures were huddled over something in the center of the stage. They looked like the illustrations of Neanderthals Damian had seen in school. The cavemen stood up as he moved towards them, and one of them spoke.

“At last!” said the man. His voice was raspy and sounded like the one that accompanied the music when Damian had entered the club. “What kept you?” They climbed down from the stage and moved towards Damian.

“Special Agent Damian Ford at your service,’” Damian flashed the band his digital credentials when they met half-way between the stage and the entrance to the club, “What seems to be the matter?”

“Roxy’s dead,” said the shortest of the three in a matter-of-fact manner, brushing aside his long hair with the drumsticks he held in his right hand, “Gone! Dead! Just like that.” The other two nodded but didn’t say anything. Close-up, they now looked like musicians he’d seen in old photographs of bands from an era on Earth which had long since disappeared. Remnants of a grungy retro rock novelty act and dressed to look the part, in a uniform of black jeans, black t-shirts and leather jackets. The only thing that set them apart was the color of their hair and their height.

“Right, please remain still for a minute,” Damian said as PXR5 sparked into action, flying over his shoulder and maneuvering itself nearer to the band members to better capture their images. This was so MSSV could look them up and forward Damian their data files. As the three of them stood there fidgeting, staring at his drone, MSSV sent the information to Shirley for his review.

Biff Ohlsson, drummer of Harmony Who. Formed band with school friend Stinger Hubbard shortly after leaving school. This was the band member who had spoken to Damian. Damian looked at him now. Short and stocky, with long and greasy ginger hair. MSSV reported that Biff was the only one of the three who had a family (wife and daughter) back on Earth. It seemed he had left them behind to join the band on the spaceship. His wife subsequently filed a missing person report as she’d had no idea Biff had left. Nor would he be going back, since this was a one-way interstellar journey to the stars. Once aboard, always aboard, as the cruise ship motto said.

Harvest Wallbanger, bassist for rock band Harmony Who. Harvest became a member of the band twelve years ago after original bass player (Oxy Moon) died in freak shuttle accident. Band was then called The Strolling Bones. Band name was changed when contracted as the onboard rock band for the starship Harmony of the Stars. Little known of background, but rumored she was an accountant before joining the band. The tall and brainy silent one, thought Damian.

Stinger Hubbard, guitarist. Main songwriter and schoolfriend of drummer Biff Ohlsson. She started the retro garage rock band the Strolling Bones twenty-two years ago with Biff Ohlsson while at school. Band was successful to begin with and released seventeen albums in total. Popularity has been in decline for the last seven years although band has had limited success on live circuit on Earth. Band had four lead singers before the current one, all of whom died in very strange circumstances. The mythology surrounding this alleges there is a curse on the band.

“So, what happened to your previous lead singers? What’s this about a curse?” Damian asked after he’d digested the band member biographies. As he spoke, PXR5 flew off towards the stage to examine the body of the dead lead singer. This was one of the best things about the drone – it saved him from doing the tedious and sometimes grisly fieldwork that his job often entailed.

“BJ, our first singer, OD’d on fastylo xyhedrolin when we were on tour,” said Stinger, “that’s nasty stuff if you take too much of it.”

“Yeah, not cool,” Biff added, “we found BJ next morning in his room after waiting on the tour bus for him to show up. The back of his head had exploded because he’d taken too much FX, and there was blood, bone fragments and brain tissue splattered all over the pillows and the wall behind the bed.”

“We took a picture of it and used it as the cover of our next album,” Stinger said with gusto, “it got amazing reviews. That’s when the press started talking about a curse.” Damian noticed that Harvest, the dour bass player, was silent. She looked lost in thought and didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation. Clearly, Harvest hadn’t been part of the band when they started.

“We recorded a tribute album, the Curse of Harmony Who, dedicated to BJ,” Biff said, “It made a shitload of money - our first album to go platinum, and when...”

“Understood,” interrupted Damian, “what about the other singers?” He missed some of the details Stinger and Biff started to share as MSSV was sending him data about the current (or most recent) lead singer, and he decided that was more important to process than anything the three band members might tell them.

Roxy Ratchett, DECEASED. Undetermined sex. Up until recently, lead singer with Harmony Who. The rest of the biography was marked as CLASSIFIED. That was odd, thought Damian. He pinged MSSV asking for clearance and for MSSV to analyse the data from the examination of Roxy’s body which his drone had just carried out.

“Thanks,” Damian said, “and what about Roxy, the latest singer? When and how did he or she join the band?”

“As I was just telling you,” said Biff, “Perplexus, the singer before Roxy, decided she didn’t want to sign up for this gig, seeing as it’s a long-term commitment and all…”

“…yeah, so the cruise people suggested Roxy,” Stinger added.

“Not exactly our first choice,” Biff continued, “but seeing as we were pushed for time…”

“Was Roxy a man or a woman?” Damian asked. Not that it made a difference, but he wanted to know.

“Male?” said Stinger, although she didn’t look or sound like she was convinced.

“Naaah, female” said Biff, contradicting his bandmate, “definitely female.”

“No,” said Harvest, piping up for the first time, “they identified as gender fluid, like me.”

“Gender fluid?” Biff questioned, “you mean you’re not a gal?”

Harvest kept silent and Stinger smirked.