The Collectors

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Captain Kajan would like to meet whoever “they” are and tell them they were wrong. Oh man, were they ever.

His hands grasped the edge of the desk, and he pushed. The old chair he had his butt firmly planted in slid back in protest along its rusted tracks and he stood. He kept facing forward, currently winning his battle against morbid curiosity. He promised himself he wouldn’t look out the window anymore, as he struggled against some invisible force at work that pulled at him, almost seducing him to peek. But he knew better. If he looked outside, that face would be waiting for him, the one that came to him in his dreams recently and screamed its inhumane exaltations of victory. He saw its tortured mouth sagging away as if melting. God knows how much he tried to put it out of his mind, but he couldn’t get the sound of sick laughter from jaws that stretched beyond its limits and the sight of its body decaying into a pudding like substance oozing across a white floor.

“What’s up, space cadet?” joked a deep voice entering the room.

Kajan’s hand fell upon his fire baton. He had it pulled and activated from its scabbard in seconds. The red plasma blade vibrated and sang in the air as he whipped around to see Action’s face grinning at him. Both men stared at one another in mutual shock, then Kajan’s shoulders slumped in relief. “It’s never a good idea to sneak up on someone.” He powered down the weapon and holstered it.

Action, whose real name is Brad Jackson. But the crew on the ship call him Action Jackson from the old eighty’s movie, raised his hands in mock surrender and lowered them. “Woah man, what’s the matter? Ever since we left Seventa, you’ve been acting as nervous as a mini skirt wearing woman, strolling through a pepper patch.”

Kajan rubbed his neck. For crying out loud, he didn’t want anyone to know he was hearing and seeing shit. People would start saying he had “space head”, a condition causing some to lose their marbles on long expeditions. Over the past few days, it occurred to him that crazy might be where he was headed and should talk to the ship’s doctor. But that kind of visit would get him grounded for evaluation when they return to Earth, or he could lose his job as a collector. “Probably some PTSD bullshit. I’ve been feeling guilty about that last harvest we did.”

“Aw man, don’t tell me you’re getting soft,” said Action. “That one harvest alone will net three and a half million. That put the total payload on this craft at eleven million, plus a steak and lobster dinner with some change when we get back.” He raised his hand and Kajan halfheartedly returned his high five. “After expenses, the four of us profit almost two mil each, my brother. Not bad for six months’ worth of work.”

Kajan nodded, “Yeah, I know. It’s just that we killed its mate, you see. This was supposed to be an egg harvest, and we didn’t get out clean. I don’t like that.”

Action leaned closer. “Are you worried she won’t find another man? Are you going into the Seventa sand dragon matchmaking business?” He clapped his hands, bent, and laughed at his own cleverness, which never ceased to keep himself amused.

“Hey, I’m serious. There’s not many of them left. That’s why that lab is so interested in them and pay as much as they do. Killing one bummed me out a bit, that’s all,” said Kajan, hoping the subject would change.

“Yeah, it sucks. But in the three years you and I have been flying around in the Armada. This is the only time we went on a harvest where we had to kill to get what we needed. If we had a different option, we would have chosen it.” Action’s huge brown hand reached into his pullover and pulled out a long yellowish tinged fang. “Besides, we carry a little piece of him with us out of respect. It’s that Kenyan thing that my ancestors have done to honor the fallen. It’s going to bring us luck.”

Kajan fished the one he wore around his neck and held it next to the other. Each tooth was secured with a black leather string in a crisscross pattern at the base with the remaining chords tied into a knot so each man could proudly display their souvenirs around their necks.

The fangs were just inches from touching when Kajan was overcome with a compelling urge to look at his friend. He glanced in his direction and almost jumped because that distorted mask from his dreams had returned, except now on the face of his friend. His lips pressed together into a razor thin line below his nose. A scream so hideous and bloodcurdling wanted to escape and chill the souls of everyone on board.

The room took on a watery appearance, like looking down a long patch of highway in the scorching sun as the horizon did the boogie with the heatwave. His body swayed and Action, living up to his name with his uncanny speed, grabbed a hold of his friend and steadied him. “Okay bud, you’re going to the medic,” he ordered.

Kajan blinked away the dizzy spell and Action’s face returned to normal.

“No, I don’t want to go to the doc. I just need some rest. We’re almost home, and I can’t afford any questionable behavior noted in my records. That might get me grounded. Can I count on you to keep your big mouth shut for a change?”

“Yeah, man, I got your back,” Action said with sincerity. He held up his fist and Kajan bumped it with his. “Hey, it’s time for me to dash. I’m meeting Renae down the in the showers below the lower levels in a half an hour.” His east to west grin across his face unveiled a set of pearly whites that would out dazzle a spotlight.

Kajan nodded and waved his hand to shoo him away. “Spare me the details.”

Action’s head bobbed up and down like the miniature sport souvenirs that were all the rage when these men were little guys still in diapers. He winked. “If you hear some screaming from the pipes. That’s us doing our thing.”

Both men laughed hard. An emotion of gratitude came over Kajan. He could always count on his friend to cheer him up. From those long days out on patrol on barren moon bases in their early career, to tips on picking up women. His friend’s visit couldn’t happen at a better time. He was in utter despair a few minutes ago, and now he began to feel hope.

Maybe it was just some PTSD.

“Alright, get going. I don’t want you to leave the lady waiting,” he said, still smiling.

Action took a few steps, then called out over his shoulder. “Remember, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

“At least not until you’re done with your next appointment,” Kajan yelled back at him.

***

Renae strolled out of the locker rooms and into the shower area. It was empty, except for the warm clouds of steam billowing from the last section on the left, where her man was getting all clean for her. They had the place to themselves, as promised.

She tiptoed across the tile wearing nothing but a towel, ready to peel it away as soon as she gazed up at her lover and join him in steamy luxury.

She managed to get to the enclosed space without Action noticing and hesitated. The fog was as thick as a New England morning in mid-October. Lined up on each side, eight showerheads were on full blast, making it impossible to see.

“Action?” she called into the dimly lit area.

No answer.

Her eyes darted around from corner to corner, then paused on what seemed to be a dark shape laying on the ground. She walked closer, taking great care not to slip. As she neared, a large black puddle came into view. The viscous substance mixed with the hot water as it drained into their tanks below. Their filtration systems were good but separating this crap from their supply might put it to the ultimate test.

Where the hell was Action? She looked down at the dark mass spread out on the floor and decided she better at least call the maintenance team and get them down here ASAP. She started to turn when one of the ceiling panels slid away, giving way to the crawl space above. A pair of long arms with enormous hands covered in slick skin like that of a cetacean began to descend from the dark.

Renae saw the movement and looked up. Long fingers, tipped with sticky black claws, clamped on to her. She writhed with her eyes bulging from shock as it pulled her towards one sharp yellow fang waiting for her on the other side.