FEAR

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Nevertheless, a scream was coming, and when it came he was sure that it would pull him into blackness as dark as a black hole itself. As Jason looked out into the majesty of space, he did not feel the same astonishment he had felt when he first served on board the S.S.Nemesis. Now he only felt fear. Steadily growing at the edges of his mind. Dangling like an old memory just out of reach. Even after everything that had happened he still did not understand. But perhaps understanding was no longer important. He was still alive and that was enough.

His first months on board had been almost magical. He had dreamed of going into space since he was a child. It had always been the only choice of where his life would lead. He had always been so sure. But now, as he turned away from the starfield shining so brightly through the porthole the only thing he felt sure of was his fear. It clung to him like old sweat, rank and vile. Embedded so deep that no soap could wash away its stink. He felt it growing daily as he walked the lonely corridors of the Nemesis. Her hallways, once brightly lit and filled with energy, were now dark and cold. Jason felt the cold deep within him as he walked the dark hallways.

The Nemesis was an old ship. Nemesis was the Goddess of Retribution, and in her younger years the ship had proven itself worthy of the name in many battles. But as the years passed, her age and scars lessened her value and new vessels, both sleek and dangerous, now dominated the fleet.

Jason however had been honored to be assigned to her. The ship was practically legendary and he had read of her exploits even as a boy. Formerly, a bustling ship of 200, her crew now numbered 15 as automation and new duties had changed her mission. Much of the ship was dark to conserve power and the scarcity of its crew within its huge bulk could often lead Jason to go days without seeing his crewmates. He could converse with them through the ship’s comm system and often did so in the performance of his duties. But for the past few weeks there had been less chatter throughout the ship. People were talking less and that was unusual to say the least. Spacers had a reputation for being endless talkers. Rambling about anything and everything to combat the loneliness of space travel which often meant months or even years away from home. He found it somewhat strange but he worried little at the time. His duties kept him very busy and with the exception of less interaction with the crew he carried on as usual. But things were soon to take an ominous turn.

It had been almost two weeks since Jason had talked to one of his crewmates. Then one day near the end of his shift, Old Man Wilson had showed up unexpectedly in his part of the ship. Wilson was the veteran of the crew. Way past when most spacers retired, he had always liked Jason and often waxed poetically about life and his adventures in space travel. Jason always had found his stories interesting and amusing and had developed an affection for the older man. It was with Wilson that the fear began.

Jason was exiting Navigation when he bumped headlong into the small, wiry man.

“Damn it Wilson! You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing in this part of the ship? It must have taken you 30 minutes to walk here. You should have called me on the comm.”

His old friend was drenched in sweat and Jason recoiled from his stench. A hot, sickly stench that hung about him like cheap cologne. His old hands reached out and grabbed Jason with surprising strength and despite Jason’s taller, stronger form pulled him down to his knees.

“Jason! Is that you? It is you, isn’t it my boy?!”

“Yes, it's me! Of course, it's me! What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

Wilson’s eyes seemed to bug out from his skull as they rolled in terror. His breath stale and smelling faintly of whiskey broke from him in staggering gasps.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel it coming?”

“Feel what? Come on man, you’re freaking me out! His voice turned skeptical. "Have you been drinking again?”

Wilson’s eyes stopped their rolling and regained their usual focus. “Yes. I have been drinking. But this is not, this is not…" he voice seemed to lose its strength but he sat up suddenly and violently shook his head. With an effort he spoke again and he seemed to gain confidence as he talked.

“Jason, you must listen to me. There is something going on on this ship. When was the last time you saw anyone except me?”

“I don’t know. It’s been maybe a week or two.”

“How about on the comm?”

“You, last Friday. Jacobs probably a few days before that.”

“Don’t you find that unusual?

“Well, sure I guess. Everyone has been pretty quiet. But I have been busy, I thought …

“You must listen to me!" Wilson’s look of panic had returned. His eyes burned with intensity as he pulled Jason close. Jason almost gagged from the old man’s sickly stench. "Jacobs, Porter, Anderson are all gone! I don’t know how many of the rest are left. I have only been able to get West on the comm and she sounds like a blithering idiot and keeps crying.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just a comm problem?" Jason prompted. His rational mind insisted that there was a simple solution, despite Wilson’s unsettling frantic assertions.

“It's not the comm! I have been around the ship. I can’t find anyone!” Abruptly he pushed Jason away and slumped against the wall.

Jason stood up and tried a different tack with his old crewmate. “Look pal, I am sure that there is a logical explanation for all of this. We have not docked anywhere for three months and I bet if we checked the escape pods they would all be here. Everyone has to be here.”

As he said it aloud he felt more confident, even though a shadow of doubt hung just below the surface of his calm.

“Stay here, Wilson, and rest. I am going to check the comms first and then I will make a sweep of the ship. I will stay in contact with you as I go.”

Wilson looked up at him with hollow eyes both red and desperate. “Can’t you feel it? I can feel it coming. His body seemed to sag. I can feel it coming for me.”

Growing more and more unsettled Jason consoled his friend. “Get some rest. I am sure that things will be ok.”

Leaving Wilson slumped against the wall Jason moved quickly to his quarters just a few minutes down the hall. Once there he outfitted himself for a search. Flashlight, his personal comm unit, his firearm. Fortunately he mused the Nemesis's construction as a combat ship allowed for the use of small arms within its corridors so the crew could mount a defense in case they were boarded.

Moving quickly and silently towards the communications room, Jason’s feelings of dread steadily grew as Wilson’s warning repeated itself over and over again in his mind. “It’s coming, it’s coming for me!”

Steeling his resolve with a courage he did not truly feel, Jason moved into the dark.