Dark Stars

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Unluckily for me, the cargo bay didn’t exist in a vacuum. The Et'ealth breathed oxygen, just as humans did, so their cargo bay was not a void. It was entirely possible that my screams would be heard.

If I wasn’t able to escape into the blackness of space first.

Running for cover, I barely slipped behind one of the jelly-filled metal pods before the internal door slid open. The feel of fleshy leaves stroking the back of my neck made me cringe away from the lush vegetation above, but I was grateful for the extra cover. I crouched down low, leg muscles shaking. And it wasn’t from the sudden sprint.

I’ll admit it: I was scared.

Terrified.

This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission. A simple meet’n’greet, making overtures with the latest of humanity’s galaxial contacts. There were hundreds of other sentient species out there, if not thousands, in the vastness of space. We’d been venturing off-world for nearly three hundred Earth-years, establishing vital relationships with other space-going species. That’s why I joined the diplomatic corps. Meet new races, establish positive working relationships, see the galaxies firsthand.

But all the previous missions I’d been assigned to had gone well, establishing valuable trade links, and sharing scientific advances with other sentient species. When we got back to Earth I was due for promotion. I would be Ensign 3rd Class Kyra Dauber, not just an intern bunking with the other peons. Nearly there, after years of hard work.

But I had gotten complacent. Let my guard down.

We all had.

Fighting to quiet my breathing, I peeked around the edge of the pod—one of hundreds ranked across the huge cargo bay—and watched two of the Et'ealth enter the farm. They were guiding a floating bin between them, and I could see half-meter-high seedlings nodding their heads above the rim. The seedlings were small, but I could tell they’d grow into plants like those in the other pods lining the farm chamber, bulbous and fleshy, translucent-creamy stalks topped by lush leaves in a variety of colors.

Red, like freshly-spilled blood.

The brown of old, dried blood.

Oxygen-rich crimson.

These crewmen (crew-women? There was no way to distinguish their gender, at least none that I had seen.) were dressed in a variation on the ship’s uniform I’d seen the Et'ealth ambassadorial staff wearing, and that of the alien crewmembers in the docking bay. But whereas the other Et'ealths’ uniforms were black or gray, these two wore green. I guess that’s the universal color for growing things, even among alien cultures.

Who ever thought there’d be farmers on an interstellar ship? But the Et'ealth ate only fresh vegetation, so I guess it stood to reason they’d grow it here, even on their interstellar ships. I'd been looking forward to eating something fresh after months in space, eating reconstituted ship's rations. The diplomatic banquet was just hours away.

Now that I'd seen the Et'ealth farm, I'd lost my taste for fresh vegetables.

They positioned the floating bin at the top of the pod where Ensign 1st Class Paul Morley floated on the surface of a bed of pinkish jelly, taking up positions on either side. From where I was hiding, I couldn’t see inside, but in my mind, I could see the ensign’s terrified eyes jittering around, desperate to escape whatever the Et'ealth had in store.

There was nothing I could do to save him now. I’d tried to pull him out of the pod, but they’d paralyzed him somehow, and he couldn’t move a muscle. They’d also stripped him bare, a fact which only heightened my fear.

Ensign Morley had missed his second check-in, which raised a red flag. As security intern for the ISS Daedalus, I got the scut work, to be sure. All the piddling little jobs nobody else wanted. Safety protocol checklists, security check-ins, checking every door and locker and lightbulb on the ship. The safety of every crewmember was my most basic priority, not just protecting Earth’s diplomatic staff. So, when no one had seen or heard from Morley (not my favorite among the security staff, I have to admit) for nearly an hour after boarding the Et'ealth ship, I’d gone in search of him, following his locator beacon. It had led me here, to this bay. To Morley’s discarded security uniform.

And to the pod in the back of the cargo bay, where his cries for help were already weak and growing weaker.

At first, I’d tried to figure out why the ensign had broken protocol to climb into a pod filled with alien goop. Kinky much? All right, so he had a reputation...

Then I saw that his four limbs were restrained at top and bottom of the pod.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a breach of discipline on his part. He hadn’t done this to himself, trying to get his rocks off. I needed to get him out and report back to my head of security, so they could find out just what the hell was going on.

Some of the jelly he was suspended in clung to my hands where I’d tried to shift him, to find a way to release the restraints. But as I tried to free his wrists and ankles, I realized the pink goo was partly skin, Ensign Morley’s flesh being eaten away by the jelly. I wiped the slime off on my uniform trousers, leaving a viscous smear along the side of my thigh. It was slow-acting, whatever it was. I felt a faint tingling in my hands, but my own skin was intact.

And then I’d heard the chime from the door mechanism, and dove for cover. Fear is the most valuable emotion humans experience, and this time it just might have saved my life.

My back pressed up against the pod, I peered out from my hiding place. I’m not usually squeamish, far from it. But something visceral in me screamed Danger! and I cowered. I didn’t want to see what they were doing, but I had to. It was my job to make sure that every crew member was safe, no matter what position they held. I had to be able to report back to my superiors, in excruciating detail, what I was seeing. I had to bear witness to Ensign Morley’s torture. I had no choice.

If there was any way I survived myself, I had to tell them what I’d seen. The lives of everyone on the ISS Daedalus depended on me.

The lives of everyone on Earth depended on me.

The Et'ealth farmers pulled laser scalpels from their belt loops and started transplanting the seedlings into the pod, one by one.

Slice of scalpel.

Spurt of blood.

Insertion of seedling.

Into Ensign Morley.

Tears burned tracks across my face, blurring my vision. My own limbs were frozen, immobile. When they came for me, I wouldn’t be able to resist. I had to get out of this cargo bay. This human farm. I had to warn the rest of my team. I had to get the ambassador’s staff off this ship and back to the Daedalus. But I was frozen, hiding.

Unable to look away.

Ensign Morley’s screams went on for a long, long time.

***

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I intended to write a new story for every day of the New Worlds Challenge, but unfortunately, life happened. I only made it through three stories before I was forced to admit defeat. Well, three stories is better than none. This is New Worlds Story #1. If you enjoyed it, please feel free to check out story #3, Collection.