The Everyday Life of a Space Junker

Audio Log 25

“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.” Great another knock off of the Alien Saga, oooh so edgy. It feels like authors now a days have lost the niche and nuance they once had. Where being depressed, alone and lost would cultivate the greatest of stories. Today’s stories are nothing but poorly regurgitated echoes of the ones you shared with me. You had taste, being a man of a century lost in time, you can almost feel the radiating greatness of this era. Stories that would inspire, question, and embark you on the discovery of yourself and the role you play. You left me your library, massive collection of these rare things called books. Books are quite interesting, they are made of what was called reinforced carboard, that was then wrapped in animal hide called leather. The best part was the heart of the book, filled with pages of inked on words. Not pages on a screen, with digitized lettering. There was something almost alive, when you hold a book, a pulsing sensation the author instilled. A very difficult feeling to describe to a generation of monitors, tablets and holographic displays. All I want is to return to your library, I guess my library now, and continue my exploration into a literary nirvana, the Valhalla of the ancient authors. All neatly collected by the open, slightly pretentious taste of yours. Now I’m thinking to much of you and the depression of space is starting to gnaw at my scalp.”

Audio Log End

It is quite boring being out here in the emptiness that is space, it becomes worse when you do it as a living. The job pays extremely well, but it can become quite mundane at most times. When you aren’t finding any of the “space junk” as many of Earth scientists of come to call it. Ionized, pressurized carbon clusters, a recent discovery that caused the great, “Celestial Rush.” Everyone and their great grandmother came out here to reap the fruits to what can be compared to the great Gold Rush in ancient times. I only know of this because of your stories, and its when it gets this quiet I can hear them evermore louder. Huh, I guess you can say, you really can hear a scream in space. Its usually your thundering yet inviting voice. You never tried to come off as harsh, but a being of your stature you couldn’t help but feel slightly overwhelmed while in your presence. The reason I am out here is because of you. You built this space ship, you can tell you meticulously built it just for me. Everything I ever need the ship has it or performs it. When I am down, it plays music that brings back the memories of my childhood adventures with you, or it’ll display our favorite YouTube series on the projector. I don’t even know why I started logging my thoughts. Maybe it is my coping mechanism, it would have been nice you put an AI system in my ship. Seriously, every other ship you built and this one you is the only one you build with 2022 tech, how primitive. I have to input all the commands by hand and tab screens, while everyone else gets an AI. Its getting late I should go to bed, but it feels like one of those episodes. I hope I get sleep.

As I lay in bed I can’t help but think about one of your stories. You said for a while everyone was against each other, constantly fighting. Literally take arms and shoot each other type of fighting. Then one day everyone united. They mostly united to stick it to Europe, but that’s not the point. Point being that the US united after years of corruption and internal fighting which created the true enlightenment era. During this time technology, medicine, space travel all advanced tenfold. With you at the helm, at least that’s what you claim. Then again what father wouldn’t make a up a story so outlandish just to try and impress their child. I’m relieved you didn’t make it all up, though you always told the story with a slight pretentiousness, as if you were allowing me to praise you. You era was so weird as a matter of fact. Your decade started off with something called Covid-20, or 18? Some number, apparently it was a world pandemic but not the one where you kill brainless zombies. According to you people just wore masks and stayed home, oh and went through a lot of toilet paper. It always amused me when you would tell me about this, the worry and concern on your face was priceless. As if you had fought in a war or witnessed the end of humanity. Well I guess to you and everyone back then, it must have been a serious problem. Not today though, oddly enough we have found a cure to just about every ailment except for the common flu. That plague of an inconvenience, just won’t go down. Also, how the flocking sea ducks do you contract the flu in space. I am the only one on the ship! Thinking about your stories always puts me at ease, the constricting and straggling darkness of space is always overcome when I think of you. You had stories of plenty, you made sure everyone knew them, being a Chef, computer engineer, F1 racer really made you interesting. My eyes are being weighed down by your memory, I might actually sleep well.

Audio Log 26

“Well, what was looking like a good rest and deep sleep was shortly lived. Three hours into my lushes sleep and I get a message from these idiots. I wonder what it can be this time. Did Alan finally get his head unstuck from his ass, or maybe Amanda finally got fired for chewing when eating yogurt. I was hoping to add more to this entry. This sucks.”

Audio Log End

“Junker Captain of the Galassia, you will be receiving coordinates of a near by mega cluster. You are to retrieve the space junk with only 15% or less. Should you not meet the requirements, pay will be deducted for every percentage extra loss. At the usual rate bud, please do not think we won’t check, because we will. I must remind you, that you are on company probation, and being closely watched. A metric ounce less than what is expected and we’ll have to confiscate your daddies’ little ship. Do not report in until the mega cluster is collected. Remember, we are watching.”

I am starting to think these guys live to screw with me, they manage to always find a way to make life not exactly harder but annoying inconvenient. I despise them so much, I galactic hate them. I’m not even mad, its all about their precious junk. Every time they call me, it just feels like that annoying kid that brings in an amazing toy and they let you play with it, if anything they encourage you to play with it. It is just a ploy to let you know that they have what you desire. Only to be breathing down you neck on how to play with it, and then begin to cry that you are playing with it too much and want it back. This company does pay well, in fact it’s the only company that can, they have all rights to the space junk. How they managed that, who knows, actually my father would know. They do have a cool sounding name, Plutus Industries not sure what it means, I really don’t care as long as they keep signing the checks. All in all I don’t have many complaints about the company. The only down fall is the whole controlling of where we area allowed to harvest space junk. Everyone gets a zone, you must stay in that zone until told otherwise. Which is usually 3 pulsars. Its an interesting way to determine time out here in space, by using the light of pulsing pulsar star. Now I’m on 28 pulsars of probation, all because I played a little prank on them. Turns out you can not joke about Alien life with Plutus, they are feverishly determined to be the first to discover it. When I made the claim that the Extraterrestrial Life Radar or E.L.R went off. They almost created a holiday for me, along with creating and naming a town in my name, that would have solely observed that holiday for me, every day. It would be me day, every day. The moment I told them it was false, well it’s a good thing I’m so far in the Milky Galaxy. I probably would have lost more than my space ship. I thought it was a funny joke, my father never believed there was life out here. I think he was right, its been 50 years since the Star Rush, we can travel way beyond the Milky Way galaxy as if it were a summer family vacation. We visited near by planets and moons similar to earth, all empty. Since then alien life has been pretty much snuffed out. What was once a fiery engulfing rally of government conspiracies to cult like groups, easily dissolved upon our space travel discoveries. I should probably make my way to the mega cluster I am here to do a job, get paid, and with an insane amount of luck, not get fired.

Just need to fire up dad’s ole’ playlist, put in my temple sensors and just drift away into the music. The man loved rock music. As the music played I thought my father, telling me one of his stories of how he was a cook back in the day. How the food from today is nothing compared to the art that it was in era where true originality existed. Today we merely have imitations of what once was and can never be again. I completely drifted off my mind being elsewhere, some where you wouldn’t mind getting lost in, until you are awaken by the loudest siren in the galaxy. I swear, these alarms make the sound of someone’s sanity leeching out into the void.

“Wait, Alarm!?”

When I jolted to my feet a sensation of unconsciousness over took me, in my grogginess of forced awakening from my nostalgia, I realized this is not a siren I am familiar with, yet deep down I knew it. It is the one alarm all of science had been waiting for, the one symbol of righteous discovery. For me it was dread, I am not one to fear anything, but for some reason in this moment. My heart left like it left me, my veins had frozen over, my joints rusted and crusted over to where movement was impossible. My throat felt so dry, every time I tried to swallow it felt as if my throat would rip, tear as if it were tissue paper. In a shocked and frozen state, I manage to face the direction of the siren. To my unsurprising, surprise, that was it. The E.L.R was going off, louder and louder, almost yelling at me in anticipation. It was blinking in gold pixilated font, “Signs of Life.” With coordinates being displayed. You see it wasn’t the fact that the E.L.R was going off, its that I was being sent coordinates. Only the other Junkers and Plutus can send me messages, they have my ship ID number, what in darkest pit of space is sending me a message. That for some reason made me regret every decision I had made that lead me to this moment. Now I have a choice, ignore the alarm and act as if it never existed or concede to it and be the first to encounter Alien life. It really made me wonder, if I were to scream right now would you be able to hear it.