MEGADIGRADE

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The Little Mule spacecraft travels through space carrying two crew members, 67, a black man, forty years old, tall, strong, shaved head, stylized under a heavy face and surrounded by memories of a not so encouraging recent past, where he had lost his wife and their two children because of an accident on their planet Arcrow.

95, the other crew member, was a white male, seventy years old, short, long, straight hair, with a massive beard that had an almost yellowish tinge around his mouth. Quite different from 67, 95 was more outgoing and talkative, in the past he was always involved in trouble due to his nightlife in taverns and women, drowning in his extravagant alcoholism. 67 and 95 had met while still at Arcrow, when 67 was still a child, and lived with his parents, who were big farmers, and 95 was his farm manager. After the accident with their family, 67 and 95 decided to travel through space, with no destination, without having exactly a place to arrive, however, when they needed money and supplies, they went down to the planet to provide carpentry services, as they were excellent professionals, in fact, the best in that galaxy.

67 and 95 were truly creature hunters, plants and objects in all that dimension, they were delighted when they found something that could present itself new or strange.

67 is sitting at the helm of the ship, staring straight ahead, seeming to be caught in thought, betraying a tearing, uncontrollable sadness. 95 arrives at the cockpit holding an almost empty bottle of a copper-colored alcoholic beverage that gave off a very strong smell.

“How can you drink all day” ̶ 67 said, still staring at the immeasurable space before his eyes.

95 approaches, and sits next to 67, takes an exaggerated sip that you could hear the sound of the drink going down his throat.

“It's a waste of time, but... I think you should at least...drink less.” ̶ Continued 67.

95 takes a while to say something about it, looks at the bottle, and after wiping his mouth with his huge hand he says:

"I think what's missing is drink for the time I have."

67 takes a long breath.

95 continues:

"In our lives... I decided to drink... You chose not to sleep... Anyway, everyone gets numb with what they like."

67 takes time to say something.

“Did you check that leak?” ̶ Asked 67.

It was 95's turn to take a long breath. He takes another sip of his drink.

“No more leakage.”

67 looks quickly at 95, then back into space and after a while says:

"95... I know you're not a farm worker here anymore... And I don't want you to think I'm giving you orders, it's just a matter of safety."

One more sip of the drink.

"I never took orders even from your father... Rest in peace boy." ̶ Said 95. "Anyway... No more leakage".

After a while in silence. 67 sees 95 taking the last sip of his drink.

95 looks at the empty bottle, sets it down beside the bench where he's sitting.

"Go get some sleep... I can't remember the last time you closed your eyes boy." ̶ Said 95.

67 says nothing about it.

95 insists:

"I'm drunk but... I give you my word I won't scratch your Little Mule."

“I trust you drunk more than I trust myself fresh.”

After a while of silence, 95 says:

"Need to sleep."

"I would need to sleep forever... After all... Stay awake for what?"

95 looks at 67, then into space.

67 continues:

“To be awake is to be dead without stinking.”

"Don't talk nonsense."

"What nonsense does my life mean... By the way... Life?... It's not a life... It's just being awake.”

95 says nothing.

67 looks into the space outside, then slowly stands up.

"The Little Mule is yours… Take care of her.”

95 sits on the ship's command seat.

67 walks out of the ship's control room, stops, and looks into space, standing there beside the door.

67 says:

"I've never seen such a quiet space... Inert... We seem to be traveling through a static, frozen image."

"Go to sleep...Outside it will be different. Or you will be different.” ̶ Said 95.

67 is still standing by the exit door, looking intently into the space outside.

95 still notices the presence of 67 still there in the cabin.

“When... When I wake up... I better go we're going to Pirown... We need to buy more supplies.

Moment of silence in the cabin, with 67 looking off into space, after a while he continues:

"We're the best carpenters around... They need us... And we need their money."

“We should live there definitively... And not wandering around in that space.”

“If you want to stay there... You can stay... I don't want to. My land was Arcrow... Pirown I only go to work a few days... Or stop to buy groceries.”

95 Says nothing about it.

67 closes the cabin door, walks slowly down the huge corridor, punished by enormous physical and mental exhaustion. He opens the door to the small room where they sleep. There were two small beds, very close to each other. He sits on the bed, looks around, takes a long breath, slowly lies down on the bed.

67 stares at the small fan on the bedroom ceiling, turning slowly, and even though he's legitimately tired and hasn't slept for several hours, a tiring insomnia prevents him from recovering physically. He closes his eyes, still overcome by dizzying insomnia.

With brilliant luck mixed with effective persistence, 67 finally manages to sleep soundly, however, his sleep provides him with an unexciting and peaceful rest, as a dream with a disturbing and distressing scenario is built in his mind.

67 he falls asleep and dreams of his wife crying, his face in the midst of a darkness, where his face begins to fade away, seeming to be succumbing to a terrifying disfigurement, his skin begins to wither until his skull appears gleaming. 67 Awakens from the strange dream abruptly, sweating and looking exhausted, short of breath, as if he's run down a hill, he runs his hand over his shaved head, several times, sweat pours down his forehead. He leaves the room, looking dazed, staggering, into the nave's hallway, he leans on the gray steel that lines that gloom-shrouded hallway.

95 is in the cabin, still with his back turned, he notices the arrival of 67.

"Why don't you go back to sleep?"

67 does not respond, enters the cabin and sits next to 95.

95 looks briefly at 67 and then looks back into space.

After a long time 95 says:

“Have you ever stopped to think about how big and unknown the universe is?... Every little dot like this could be a star or a galaxy... Stop and think... That maybe there could be millions of planets that we will probably never know, or not even find out.”

67 looks closely at 95.

An absurd tranquility, and a peaceful silence dominated the space as well as the ship at that moment, but, suddenly, something came to change that scenario in calm, a creature crashes against the glass of the ship. 67 and 95 are startled by the impact, outside, coming from the icy space, a creature, like a gray worm. The creature is between forty and fifty centimeters. The creature crawls across the glass, leaving something slimy as a trail, all under the watchful and surprised eyes of 67 and 95.

"What the fuck?” ̶ 95 said, looking at the creature crawling under the ship's glass.