Numbered Time

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

My number is 436, and I and my crew have three hours left to live before we are ripped apart by the vacuum of space.

We were told we wouldn't fail; we were told that the calculations were correct. But our attempt to get to Tenaz, the outermost star, just past Earendel, now seemed to be a sure death trip.

Agent 1260 was the captain, and was at this point very quiet. He had been keeping himself locked up in his quarters for the last hour ever since we had gotten word of our certain demise. The year is 2150, and we are the best of the best. I should clarify, the best of the humans. Compared to other races, we surely pale in comparison. If you are somehow getting this outside of known time or even the past, I speak of the Hollow beings that come to rule our time. They first arrived in 2036 from within the crust of the earth. They were somehow hidden for many generations, quietly influencing kingdoms and countries, until a scare of nuclear threat drew the three races from beneath our feet, bringing with them a cool insanity to the first few generations of humans. The tales are quite horrible from what we are told and from what is archived. The ancient humans began to tear each other apart out of sheer terror from the new earthly presence. However, just before we humans made ourselves fully extinct, one of the three races, an elvish type, stepped in, and calmed our minds with an invasive trance. After gaining control, they forever commanded the human race in all things, including breeding and purpose. We were of no value to the Hollow Beings with regard to our primitive technology or intellect; but our very life force, like guinea pigs, could be used for dangerous new endeavors and tests. Even sometimes for sport. Our emotions were seen as dangerous and unnecessary for our survival, so quickly steps were implemented to break our minds, break our family traditions, and to break our connection to culture and vision. Standard ways of breeding and raising a family were no longer allowed, but rather human embryos were engineered in the lab and nurtured to an approved status for society. We were given numbers like rats. The number given to me was 436.

"Captain 1260. Respond and report." repeated a voice from every corridor of the ship. But the captain's door did not stir. Command had been trying to reach the captain now for a good ten minutes, yet none of us dared answer the call on his behalf. Command was calling us to ensure that we see our mission through at all cost, up to our last breath. If all the crew died, that would be unfortunate, but of little concern in relation to a failed mission altogether as the ship still contained many capable robot droids for landing on the new star, as long as the ship landed safely in one piece.

"Captain 1260. Respond and report."

"Bloody go back to your hell!" shouted Agent 2002.

This was not a typical response from our crewmates, nor had it ever stirred up before in our entire mission. Emotions were not tolerated. Yet, as I stood there, at the ready for Captain to enter anytime, I couldn't help but let the phrasing settle in my mind. This was even more peculiar, as this was not like me at all. Perhaps the sure end of my life was affecting me after all.

But never mind that now; my crewmate needed conform.

"Agent 2002, keep silent! You are out of line."

"That's where they come from, the devils! Don't you know? And now they have sent us out to do their demon work. We already know we will not survive the day!"

"Agent 2002, I outrank you, and while Captain is in his quarters, you answer to me. Be silent!"

Agent 2002 had a crazy look in his eyes now. Something had gone off in his head, and I slowly reached for my electric rod that lay strapped to my belt.

Just then, the captain's door began to open. But it wasn't Captain 1260 inside.