Kids of the Cosmos

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But despite thankfully never being caught out by a faulty airlock, I have to respectfully disagree.

Look, when you've seen, heard, and felt, the things I have, there's no doubt in my 'primitive' mind that there's not a way that one of those hollering monstrosities can break through the sound restrictions that exist in the vacuum of space.

Now I say 'primitive mind' due to the fact that I've lost count of the number of times some parent has bequeathed me with that darling description.

'Darling!?' Wow. That's definitely a word they've uploaded into my brain. Must have come with the new update - 'Caring with Words'.

Anyway, as I was saying; the parents can be as cruel as the kids - and as terrifying.

However, after you've been in the game as long as I have, you develop a thick skin - and no - I'm not talking about the Wovar's resistance to gamma rays, I'm speaking about an emotional layer.

That said, I'd swap out my pale, pasty skin any day for a chance to have a Wovar's silky blue complexion.

Whenever I'm carrying one of those aqua-marine kids back out from the contamination checkpoint I look down at those blue bellies and think about the ocean.

Well, images of oceans - the closest I've ever come to an ocean is the rations of synthesized water molecules!

"Hey! Charlza! Quit logging your memoirs and get back to work you lazy, no good -"

"Yeah. I'm coming!"

That's my boss. Well not actually my boss. We're the same level, but she tells me what's what.

And what I should or should not be doing.

"Now, Charlza." Kapka says.

I shut down the log recording as instructed and report to the front desk.

Front desk is easier than most of the roles here. Just wait for the expected entries, log them into the system, then take deposits, hand out the waivers, input the details, and wave 'em through.

It's the unexpected ones that can create an issue for you; real day ruin-ers is what they are.

As luck would have it, I spy one of them right now.

I've got the eyes and ears of this station plugged directly into my neural node you see - it's a standard config for anyone who works the desk - and at this precise moment I can watch as a very unwelcome freighter is lugging itself over to the dorsal docking port.

I buzz Marleen.

"What?"

"And a hearty good morning to you too, Marleen."

"What, Charlza?"

"Hey, how you doing Marleen? We never get to talking these days, you okay?"

"What do you want Charlza? I won't ask again?"

Man, oh, man. Marleen is a hopeless conversationalist, so I cut to the chase.

"We've got a stinking hump of Dermag garbage floating its way over to docking central and they haven't even bothered to announce their arrival."

I hear nothing from Marleen, but I already know she's screaming into one of her many armpits.

"Marleen, you still there?"

"Stall them Charlza. I don't care how you do it, but stall them. We're up to our necks down here. We can't take anymore until the Plocanta comes to collect."

"Marleen, Marleen, Marleen... You know as good as anyone that it ain't practical to keep Dermags waiting. They're almost as tricky as you are at keeping a decent convo going. What am I -"

"Charlza, I swear, if you don't play ball today I'll -"

"Now don't go getting nasty on me, I'm only saying it as it is."

I have to mute Marleen's cordial responses as I switch to docking protocols.

Engage clamps, set decompression settings for airlocks, cross-check environmental acclimation settings, select automated greeting options from the cultural database, scan ship for pathogens and known interspecies viral agents.

I unmute Marleen. All I hear is a breathless whisper:

"And that's only the beginning of dung I'll heap on you if you send them through without my authorization."

"Sounds good Marlz, just waiting and praying on that autho. If I get into a tight spot I'll buzz you again."

I'm about to cut her off, but she forces the connection on with her code.

"No, Charlza, you won't 'buzz' me. You'll wait for me to let you know. If you need help connect with Bigby."

"Right you are."

"And Charlza."

"Yup?"

"Do not call me Marlz. End transmission and block incoming."

Well it sounds like Marlz still hasn't forgiven me. I mean, she will, she may already have, but she's not waving the flags of peace - yet.

Panels are beeping. Oh man do they love to beep. I take a ganders at the camera feed from the dorsal docking port. Perfect!

By the looks of it the Dermag aren't in the mood for procedures today, what a surprise. Seems as if the greeting message didn't do the trick either because they're already mad enough to start cutting through the airlock doors with plasma torches.

I hear something close by, and it's not the sound of termantium meeting a high energy output, so I shut down the feed and look up - and my, my, my - I'm sure glad I did.

"Well hello madam! What can I do for you today?"

"Just this. One season, by Romilian time. No more, no less. I'll be passing by this way at precisely that turn of the cycle. I assume proper incubating won't be a problem?"

My mouth decides to stop working, but my eyes are doing a fine job of getting me into all kinds of mischief.

"Please, get a hold of your primitive mind and do your job." she hisses.

There it is again - the 'primitive' label.

"You got it, miss, madam, m'lady - it's a privilege to welcome you to Gobolt 9, interplanetary daycare, where night or day has no meaning, time is but a concept because, when it comes to the care of your offspring, our love is eternal."

It took me an age to learn that off by heart.

She doesn't look impressed though. The glow around her body changes color. I notice it because I'm perceptive like that.

"Look, just take the egg and charge me."

She's definitely changing color.

I begin making up the forms, but then out of nowhere I get some bad beeping from the console.

"Can you give me just one moment?" I ask, and, before waiting for an answer, I've switched my ocular feed back to the dorsal docking point.

Damage to interior - check!

Airlock door in need of repair - check!

Plasma fire - oh yeah! Check!

Dermags in the building - Well of course they are! Check...

A notification is pushing its way into my brain and there's no way to block it.

*** <NOTIFICATION> Safety procedures have been violated in section 17, dorsal docking point. Immediate response will be required.<NOTIFICATION> ***

A neural notification has the habit of repeating itself three times which makes 'immediate response' kinda a joke.

By the time I get my mind back, the specimen of cosmic beauty has thrust her jellified egg onto my lap and is halfway down the hallway.

"Woah, wait a sec, I haven't even registered you!"

"I'm in the system." She yells, without looking back.

***<NOTIFICATION> All entries must be registered before parents or guardians disembark the station. All deposits must be paid. All waivers must be signed. All forms must be completed before parents or guardians depart station. Completion of aforementioned regulations must be conducted at front desk <NOTIFICATION>***

It really can be a quantum buggery to get stuck on front desk when things don't go to plan. Damn. Why couldn't it be Kapka up here today, she'd have shown what humans are capable of - but me?

Well, let's just say that apart from that thick layer of emotional resistant skin, there's not much else in my workplace proficiency repertoire.

I set the sticky egg down beside me at the desk and wipe the residue on my shirt. Huh? Kinda makes my shirt glow. I like it. I should contact the egg team pronto, but I can hear I've got bigger problems.

There's no mistaking the sound of Dermags on your deck. Naturally, the gravimetric plating dampens any vibrations, but those Dermags know how to barge down a corridor.

The sounds of staff falling over themselves to dodge out the way is like music to a Dermag's particularly tiny ears - which are on their backs - and maybe that explains why you never see a Dermag in a massage palor. Who knows?

The fist almost goes through the desk and I clutch hold of the egg. Would it be wrong to use it as a shield? - yup clearly wrong - I'd definitely lose my job protecting myself with an unborn child.

"Take custody of our offspring, now!"

Nothing like the terrifying voice of a Dermag to get your attention, but the warmth of his or her breath is strangely comforting.

I'm already emotionally confused.

"I said now, minion!"

Minion? Now that's a new one.

"Primitive fool. Do you not hear me?"

Ah, there we go. Back to basics.

"Hello there, it's a privilege to welcome you to Gobolt 9, interplanetary daycare, where night or day has no meaning, time is but a concept because, when it comes to the care of your offspring, our love is eternal."

"He is an automaton of some sort." says a larger Dermag from within their group, all jostling for space within my once peaceful domain. "Reset him."

Before his fist finds this hidden reset button that I definitely do not have, I jump to my feet, and still holding the egg, I bow as gracefully as I know how.

Dermag's love a little theatrical groveling, I suspect the bowing really does it for them coz they can't bend down. I think they have fused spines or something.

Anyway - note to self - if a Dermag accidentally drops something on the ground, then pick it up and hand it back to them. This trick will surely make me a Dermag-shaped best friend in no time.

I realize I've been bowing in silence for a little too long. Say something damn it.

"Thank you for gracing us with your - err... Arrival. I welcome thee."

Thee? Where am I getting this from, must have uploaded some crazy shit to my node that night. And no, don't ever ask me about that night!

"I ask for your patience, my Dermag friends. These are busy times, but I can assure you that I will be at your service as swiftly as I am able."

I look up from my bow. So many of them. Wow, they brought the whole ship onboard. It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase - bring back up.

"Time is not on your side, minion."

Again with the minion.

"We come to your pitiful station because we have no choice."

"And we welcome you with open -"

"Silence!"

The warm breath is no longer comforting. I'm truly terrified now.

"You will not speak. You will take the offspring from us. We are to mine the seventh moon of a nearby system. We will return once our task is complete."

Before I even decide whether I'm allowed to speak again, the 'offspring' are out of their sacks.

Yeah, they do that.

From between the legs of each of my Dermag pals, the sacks burst open to reveal one or two Dermag kiddies.

No legs, no arms, just one big old head sitting in a puddle of who knows what.

You'd think without any arms or legs they'd stay put, but oh no, not the Dermag scamps. Those heads can roll and man can they roll.

Before you can even say 'cosmic hell' those heads are zooming around the office like comets orbiting a collapsing star.

"We relinquish our offspring into your protection. Be assured that any harm that comes to them will be inflicted upon your own, puny body."

"Okay, but before you go can I just get you folks to sign-"

The words from my mouth stop mid-flow as I notice that my fingers are covered in more liquid than usual - and it's not my sweaty palms. Nope. This is egg juice.

Alarms sound.

Oh no...

'Alert. Hatching has been detected. Alert. Hatching is in progress in an undesignated area. Alert. Hatching has been detected at front desk. Alert.'

The Dermags are leaving.

"Hey, wait a sec."

It's hopeless, they're already bounding down the corridor.

The egg is melting, and with it, my sanity too.

I open a comm channel. Station-wide.

"I need help. Anyone? Please?"

"Charlza. What's the issue? I heard Marleen is already gunning for you today."

"I'm in trouble here. Can you come up to front desk?"

"No way, front desk is a one man show. Handle your own dung or call Bigby."

The egg is not an egg anymore and I'm desperate.

"Please Kapka. I'm begging you! I've got an egg 'n' heads catastrophe going on up here."

"Not my problem C. Not my problem."

The gelatinous mass is forming into something. I look out behind me at the blackness of space and for a split second, I imagine the peace of being sucked into that vacuum.

A ball of Dermag baby smashes into my face and I feel my nose buckle.

"Stop your screaming C! Look I can't babysit you anymore, I've got real, actual children to take care of. I'm not your boss as you always love to keep reminding me - we're the same level, remember? Just sit tight, I've heard the new guy will be there soon."

Kapka severs the comm link.

New guy? What new guy?

And there, through the battlegrounds of flying Dermag heads, in the haze of flashing alert lights, he steps into the office, his six arms folded neatly behind his back.

"The concept of time has no meaning when charged with the care of younglings. Am I correct?"

I barely understand the words he utters. The sound of his voice is so serene.

"I.. Are you...? Can you -"

The room spins. I feel the new guy's six slender arms slide around me - catch me.

"Charlza? It is Charlza I assume, and if I'm not mistaken, I think that beautiful little hatchling may be attempting to chew its way into your abdomen."

Top tip - always blackout before a child finds its way inside you. Trust me, it's a motto to live or die by... Always choose to blackout.