Date Point: 9M 14D BV, mid-morning
Traffic Control, Trading Station Daze of Days
“ Daze of Days traffic control, this is approaching light freighter Fearful Symmetry, requesting docking instructions, and standing by at five hundred [klicks] out. Third contact, please respond”
The comm relay inside the control office crackled as the voice came out of it. Even through the translation program, the speaker was obviously irritated at the untoward wait; with a heavy sigh, realizing that the duty couldn’t be put off any longer, the customs officer keyed the microphone and replied.
“Fearful Symmetry, we are currently under Level 3 Quarantine for docking. I’m afraid we aren’t going to be able to allow you to dock at all, although any goods you are carrying may be shuttled over via drone. If you wish to come aboard, you will not be able to return to your vessel until the quarantine is lifted.”
”How long is that expected to be, Control? We’re short on shore leave here; our perishables are in stasis containers, but my crew needs to get out of the ship and move around a bit, we’re tired of lookin’ at each other. What’s the quarantine for, anyway, some kinda disease?”
“You’ll have to get those answers from the security office if you come aboard, Fearful Symmetry. They don’t give me that information.” Silence followed the statement, and then the comm crackled to life again.
”Roger that, Control. We’ll be coming aboard shortly by shuttle; I imagine you’ll want to impound it on arrival.”
“That is correct, Fearful Symmetry, as long as you understand that before you come aboard, that should be fine.” The control technician set the mic down with a sigh of resignation, and notified Security that the crew of the Fearful Symmetry would be coming aboard and would need to be processed through the quarantine.
Shortly thereafter, Daze of Days Landing Bay 14
The shuttle from Fearful Symmetry touched down lightly, showing the obvious signs of an old hand at the controls. It settled onto its extended feet with barely a sigh, and immediately powered down with a descending groan of old, but serviceable machinery performing its function. The ramp came down at the back almost immediately, a brief pfssh of atmosphere being released. A heavy, solid, steady step heralded an alien whose race few of the station’s security had ever seen or heard of, although his appearance did tickle the memories of those few that had seen the footage from Outlook On Forever a few years before.
He presented an intimidating appearance despite being shorter than most, clad head to toe in the dyed and treated skins of some kind of animal and carrying a sizeable bag over one shoulder. Riding easily below one hip was some kind of one handed projectile weapon, and what were surely knives of some kind stuck out of his boot tops. The fur…hair…. on his head and face was the same deep brown, curly, reaching his shoulders, and he wore a gold colored device over his eyes that obscured them. Behind him walked several villainous and very ragged-looking male Gaoians covered in scars, and wearing harnesses apparently made from the same animal skin that the lead alien wore as clothing. Behind them, the steady stomp of an Allebenellin in a battered suit brought up the rear of the party, although the sharp-eyed could see several Vzk’tk peeking down the ramp.
The leader came to a stop just above the bottom of the ramp and regarded the security force nervously looking back at him with a close-lipped grin.
“Hi!” he said finally. “Name’s Rick Connell, and this is my crew.” He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder to indicate the rest. “This’s Herc, Char, and Viir,” indicating the Gaoians, “…and the suit back there is my man Vec. Up behind them are members whose proper names I can’t even get my mouth around, so I ain’t gonna try. We got nicknames for ‘em I can pronounce, but I ain’t gonna saddle them with those here, dig? I figger they can introduce themselves.”
The lead officer stepped forward, bending his long blue neck in a gesture of welcome. “Welcome to Trading Station Daze of Days. As you are no doubt aware, we will have to impound your shuttle until the quarantine is lifted; entry is permitted, but there are no departures. We cannot risk it.”
“So. Yeah. About that,” Rick said, stepping off the ramp and setting the bag he had over his shoulder down with a thud. “I’m ‘fraid I wasn’t totally honest with your flight control folks. I knew about the quarantine, see. It’s why we’re here.”
“You…came here for the quarantine?” the officer answered, cocking his head slightly to one side in perplexed confusion.
“Yep. I hear you have a problem. Me and my people….we solve problems. My kind…humans, I mean… call what we do ‘bounty hunting’, and I’m pleased to say we’re available, we’re here, and we’re looking for work,” Rick explained. “And now that we’re here and can’t really leave, well, my people can get …restless, you might say, if they don’t have work to do. Sooner we can negotiate a price, sooner we’re outta your hair. Whaddya say?” He smiled a toothy grin full of perfectly even white square teeth. The security force, to a man, visibly flinched.
“We….well, no price has been established for being able to lift the quarantine, Rick Connell, but I will forward your…offer…to my superiors,” said the lead officer, finally. This really wasn’t what he’d expected, although he wasn’t sure what that had been. Whoever heard of going into a quarantine on purpose?
“Don’t take too long, friend,” said the still-grinning newcomer. “Your problem ain’t going away while we’re standing here.”
“Allow us to show you to a holding area. We will get you processed aboard, and then you may tour the station if you wish. I will alert you if there is a response to your offer. This way, please.” With that, the party, including Vzk’tk, who were shooed off the shuttle as they took it to impound, was ushered out of the landing bay and into a series of offices where very serious looking customs officers awaited them. Their assorted weaponry raised more than a few eyebrows, but they were ultimately allowed to bring it aboard mostly because no-one could figure out how to get it away from them if they weren’t inclined to cooperate, and all things considered, the beleaguered security force had more important things to worry about.
continued
<Relax, boys. This will be easy.> Rick signed to the Gaoians some time later, as they left customs and were allowed to wander into the station proper. Teaching his team ASL had been one of his more inspired ideas, he thought idly as they waited for the elevator. The Vzk’tk crew members made a beeline for the shop offering fresh hydroponics, and Vec clomped off, looking for a shop that could fix a troublesome actuator he hadn’t been able to find a replacement part for.
<Easy? Maybe. We don’t know yet what we’re facing here.> Char signed back, to nods from the other two Gaoians. <Anything that results in this kind of quarantine to keep it from getting anywhere else can’t be simple, or easy.> Char was the most grizzled of the three, with an obviously artificial left eye, ear, shoulder, and arm and numerous ropy scars down his left leg. Viir had long-healed plasma burns that had taken off all of the fur on most of one side of his abdomen along with an arm which had been replaced by one terminating in a universal-mount hand/tool. Herc simply had claw marks everywhere. They made an impressive trio, even in the company of a human, who radiated his own special kind of “don’t touch”.
<Most of what I saw of the security force was like that group that met us in the hangar. Vzk’tk, lightly armed and not really equipped to handle a serious threat. They’re like what we call “police” on Earth.> Rick signed back. <More for civilian crime prevention, not for true combat assignments.> The elevator finally made a hesitant ding and the doors slid open with the universal squeal of poorly-oiled machinery. The four stepped in, and Rick hit the control to take them down to a level the guide indicated might provide better and more appropriate food options. As they drew closer to their destination, all three of the Gaoians, almost in unison, raised their noses and sniffed.
“That actually smells really good,” Viir commented. “Not that I don’t love your cooking, Rick, but I need to taste something that isn’t generic meat and greens.” The other two Gaoians chittered softly, and Rick grinned as elevator came to a stop and the door squealed reluctantly open.
They found themselves on a dismal, greasy-looking concourse with thoroughly inadequate lighting, seating that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the station had been new, and assorted detritus littering every corner. The sole well-lit shop boasted both cleaner seats and noticeably less trash, and it was from this that the enticing scent of what could convincingly pass as alien barbecue wafted, setting the three Gaoians’ mouths and the human’s mouth watering practically in unison. Business, it appeared, was adequate, if not great. The proprietor, a defeated-looking Rauwhyr, waved them over.
“Greetings, my friends. Come, come sit down. I am your host, Relth. I have a wide variety of cuisine available, although, I am sorry, my Gaoian friends, but I have no nava currently. Everything is made fresh to order,” the proprietor rattled off unenthusiastically. “You must be new to the station, I don’t think I’ve seen any of you before.”
The group introduced themselves again, and all four opted for the establishment “special of the day”, which was skewered dizi meat, chunks of rwrk fruit, and tali greens, roasted over an open flame and served with bottles of quisan juice. The juice and the greens raised some figurative eyebrows, as both were Alliance products, but Relth promised them that everything had been obtained strictly legally and was very good. The food, when it arrived, measured up, and there was silence save for the sound of four hungry travelers devouring unexpectedly good food, when Rick looked up from his plate and fixed the Rauwhyr with one gimlet eye, having hung his aviator shades on the pocket of his shirt.
“So. Mister….Relth. Tell us about this quarantine. I know what I’ve heard already, which ain’t much, and I know what the security folks told us, which is almost nothing. You look like a guy that knows things. How ‘bout you tell me what you know?”
Relth hesitated; he’d heard of humans mostly as a curiosity – the species that actually came from a Deathworld, or so it was said, not that he’d actually believed it – but having one right here in front of him was…unnerving, and he found himself wondering if perhaps the stories were actually true. Regardless, this was a paying customer asking, and his natural business instincts took over to make conversation.
“People are disappearing. Someone, or something, is taking them out of their homes, out of places of business, and even in public; a few months ago, security found what was left of a Kwmbwrw merchant literally torn to pieces just off a main concourse several floors up.” He gestured for emphasis at the ceiling. “Nobody seems to be able to find out what has happened to them, and, other than the one they found recently, nobody ever sees them again. They just…vanish.”
Rick chewed thoughfully. “So what do the disappearances have in common? Race….age….I hear what you’re saying, it’s all over, so….where’s the common link?”
“In truth, I don’t know,” Relth replied. “I know that nearly every race on board the station has had someone disappear. There seems to be no reason to it at all.”
“Hmmmm….” Rick continued, taking another bite and chewing. “So…maybe it isn’t targeted, it’s simply opportunity. Have people mostly disappeared when they were alone or isolated in some way?”
“You would have to ask the security force,” Relth replied. “I’m a food vendor.” Rick snorted in amusement.
“Don’t mean you don’t know shit, man. You know what I mean? I bet you know plenty that those security bozos don’t, or don’t think is important, even if you don’t know it.”
Relth mulled that over as they continued eating. “There is one thing…before people started disappearing, I had break-ins twice here. This was a couple of years ago, though, and…the only thing I ever lost was Dizi rats.”
Rick looked up sharply. “Dizi rats? What did station security say about it, or did they even investigate it?”
“I gave a report, but I never heard anything back at all,” Relth replied. “It’s probably not even connected, but you asked. It only happened twice. The officer said there was no evidence at all, not even anything indicating how it might have happened.”
“Interesting,” Rick said. Around the table, his three crewmembers looked at one another and then redoubled their eating pace. “But nothing since then, huh?”
“Well, I didn’t lose any more livestock,” Relth said. “The first time, I only lost a few, but the second time, they were all gone. The only thing left behind was blood and water on the floor of the habitat I had them in. I locked the cage after that, though, so maybe that’s why I didn’t lose anything more. That nearly ruined my business – Dizi meat is one of the main ingredients I can get all the way out here reliably, and I had to buy a whole new crop of them.”
“So what happened after that? How long after that happened was it that people started disappearing?” Rick asked.
“I don’t know. The security force would know that – the first one I heard of that I remember was a Vzk’tk calf. That must have been…oh, maybe [six months] after the last break-in I had. Kid disappeared right out of his room in the middle of the night, but they’re saying it was this same thing because the floor was all wet, like most of the others.”
Rick had stopped eating. “I think we should have another word with your security people. And I think I need to track Vec down from whatever shop he found himself in.”
continued
About twenty minutes later, security office aboard Daze of Days
Rick, his three Gaoian compatriots, and Vec the Allebenellin filled a good-sized corner of the Rrrrtktktkp’ch Chief of Security’s public office, having been ushered in by two extremely nervous-looking Vzk’tk officers who were clearly wishing they had chosen another field for a career. Behind his desk, the Chief rested on his four hind-legs comfortably, with a tablet on one side and keeping an eye on the rest of the room. It seemed necessary; the….human… filled up far more space than his apparent size warranted.
“My officers tell me you believe you have a good chance of …resolving… our quarantine problem,” he said, setting the tablet down and turning his gaze on his five guests. “My security force has been searching for whoever or whatever is responsible for the disappearances on board for months.”
“Then I would say you need our help,” countered Rick, no longer smiling. “Fact is, your security force ain’t up to dealing with whatever they do find, if they were to find anything, if I’m any judge, and I’ve been out here bangin’ around for a while now. This ain’t my first rodeo.”
“I cannot even pronounce that last word, and I have no idea what it is. You are not wrong, however, Rick Connell – despite our best efforts, we have not been able to find the responsible party. People are disappearing even from within their own homes, and there is no way to anticipate from one attack to the next what, or who, will be targeted,” said the Chief evenly. “I have exhausted every resource I can think of to find the responsible party, to no avail.”
“I tell you what. How about you make your officers’ reports on this situation available to me and my men, and we’ll see if we can deal with this problem. ‘S what we do, after all. We…hunt.” Rick gave the Rrrrtktktkp’ch a humorless close-lipped smile.
“If you and your crew can resolve this problem, I will be happy to let you. As I said, I’ve exhausted the resources at my disposal. I am curious, though…what is it that makes you think that you can succeed where so many others have not?” countered the Chief, somewhat unnerved.
“My homeworld is a category 12 temperate,” was the reply, to some quiet chittering from the Gaoians.
“Quite,” said the Chief after a moment. “I am inclined to allow you your…hunt, if for no other reason than you’ll probably pursue it anyway,” he continued, shuddering a little at the implied similarity to Hunters, “However…I am limited in anything else I can provide to you. I suppose I can…deputize you, which would give you the access to normally-off-limits sections of the station, but I want to be clear that the quarantine keeping you here is absolute. There will be no ‘escapes’ from this station.”
“Fine by us, right boys?” Rick said, glancing at his companions. The Gaoians duck-nodded, and Vec simply stood where he had throughout the conversation, robotic body unmoving. “All right then. How about we get to work, huh? I’d like to start by reviewing whatever reports or footage you may have of anything related to these events. There has to be a common thread somewhere.”
Approximately two days later
Char tossed the datapad he had been holding onto the table with a clatter. “We waste time,” he growled irritably. “Most of this is useless information; cqcq-smoking idiots asking the wrong questions. Without doing our own investigating, none of this will benefit us.”
Herc met his gaze across the table. “Patience. Rick said earlier he had an idea, and he will be back shortly. His ‘ideas’ are rarely too far wrong.” Char snorted in disgust.
“He hasn’t gotten you killed yet, you mean. I still think this is more of a Keeda tale than an actual prize. I heard spooky stories as a cub, as did you…. the ‘haunted station with a lurking horror eating cubs that won’t eat their greens’ trope is older than either of us.”
“The reports from the aftermath of each incident are very consistent – no evidence of forced entry when it occurs within a locked room or rooms, and the floor is always wet, at least until this example here,” Viir said, projecting his tablet contents into the holo at the middle of the table. “This is the young Corti that disappeared almost a year ago. He’s the last known disappearance from inside a private quarter…and the last where the other criteria was also met. After that, everything is in maintenance corridors or low-traffic areas of the station.”
“I have no idea if that means anything at all,” Char replied archly. Just then, the door slid open and Rick walked back in, with Vec in tow.
“Anything means what? Oh,” Rick said, looking at the still-displayed case file for the unfortunate Kitro. “Actually, that’s an important one I wanted to talk with you guys about. I been thinking we need to do some of our own recon. Had a thought about where to start looking for this thing.”
“So you are convinced it is a something and not a someone?” Char asked.
“I am. These disappearances are a little too regular and indiscriminate to be something criminal. No, this is something hunting. The disappeared people…and that guy’s Dizi rats….they’re food. Whatever it is, is eating…and I have a couple of theories about how it is, or was, getting around.”
Rick turned to Vec. “That, my friend, is where you come in. I have a job for you, and you’re literally the only person I know that can do it. You aren’t going to like it.”
He was right. I don’t like this. thought Vec, as he swam through the water system. Leaving his body suit behind was bad enough, but slithering around the inside of the station’s water treatment system was humiliating. Never mind the fact that Rick was right. None of the others could have done this job. His implants fed him a steady diet of directions…turn left here, right there, down, then over and up through there. One by one, he checked out each of the places that Rick had told him to check, to see if he could get to them, and with each one, he found that the way was completely open. He signaled that fact back to Rick and the others, and turned back to explore the last destination he’d been asked to check out.
One under-appreciated ability Allebenellin possessed was an instinctive, acute proprioceptive sense; Vec could literally feel the space around him as it widened into an enormous central holding tank, without the use of any sort of vision. In a very real sense, his entire body was a sort of eye, which was an ability the OmoAru hadn’t thought to change at all in their uplift of his species, though it rarely got used by his kind as they tromped around in their gigantic robotic bodies. It was entirely possible that they hadn’t even known the ability existed, since that wasn’t the point of the uplift they’d done for his kind.
Something was lying very still at the bottom of the massive cistern that wasn’t supposed to be there. Something big. Something…moving.
Vec would have, had he been able to use a vocal means of expressing himself, probably shrieked in terror; whatever it was, it was much bigger than he, and highly unlikely to be friendly. He darted into the first available pipe that was big enough for him, but unlikely to be big enough to accommodate his pursuer, and felt/heard a thump behind him as whatever it was struck the mouth of the pipe entrance. He queried his implant for a path back to his starting point and followed the pathway as fast as he could go. It took a blessedly short amount of time that nevertheless felt like an eternity. At least whatever it was he had found couldn’t fit in here with him.
He slithered out of the water line in their suite’s main bathroom, and back into his suit, standing up and taking a full breath as his air-breathing took over from the gills. It felt good to be back in the suit….more like himself, and certainly far less vulnerable. He found himself breathing heavily, out of fright.
“You…okay, Vec? You came back in a hurry,” said Rick.
“I think I found something,” said Vec. “It scared me.”
“Oh?” asked Rick, his eyebrows going up in surprise. The three Gaoians put down the tablets they were holding and paid attention; none of them had expected a result…any result….this quickly.
“I checked out the places you said, and getting to all of them was easy. Then I went to the last place on your list. It was a big tank of some kind. There was something in there, and I got away from it and came here,” Vec said.
“Something….what did it look like?” Rick pressed.
“I don’t know – there was no light in there to see anything, I could feel it. It was big. It noticed me right away and it tried to chase me. I got away by going into a pipe that was smaller than it could fit into.” Vec said.
Rick pulled up a schematic of the station’s water system on the holo-table, and highlighted the holding tank he had directed Vec to. “It was this one, right?”
continued
“Right,” Vec replied.
Rick took a stylus from one of the tablets and pointed to the tank, highlighting its connections and overlaying it with the station map on partial transparency. “Look here. And….let’s see about the attacks.” He hit several controls, and a series of red dots appeared, many at the terminus points of side-pipes. “Right up until this one….” he pointed at one in what appeared to be living quarters, “which was the last of the ones in private quarters, or where they found a wet floor. Whatever it is, it was using the water system to get around. I’ll bet you it got too big to use these pipes, and that’s why the rest of the attacks have been out in the rest of the station.”
He tapped at the tablet a bit more, and the tank was suddenly obscured by violet dots all clustered around it. The entire group froze.
“What is that you’re displaying now?” ventured Herc.
“That….that is the last pinged location of every implant from an abductee whose implants were registered,” Rick said finally, swallowing. “I think I’ve seen this movie, and I don’t like the look of it at all.”
“We should go check out that holding tank,” said Char, as they stood contemplating the map. “Right now, before it goes somewhere else.” The others agreed, with a general hefting of weapons and tightening of combat harness straps. Rick took a final look at the glowing holo-map displayed, and then with a gesture, sent it to the tablet he carried, and led them out.
By common, unspoken agreement borne of hours of long practice and years of working together, they formed a tight group; Rick led off, followed by Char and Viir, with Herc and Vec following a short distance behind to bring up the rear. For some impenetrable reason, Rick insisted on calling it a “munching order”, which always amused him greatly to the resigned confusion of the others. They chalked it up to him being weird and left it at that. Herc’s nose and Vec’s strength and sensor platform made a potent rear guard, and they all understood the practicality of putting the deathworlder in the front of the group.
The group approached through a maintenance hallway with exposed conduits and archaic wiring cables running this way and that. Herc, who was a Clanless that had failed his First Rite for Stoneback, had the best nose by a fair margin, and halted them nearly ten meters from a single door at the end of the hallway.
“Fyu’s puckered anus, what a stink,” he said quietly, raising one paw to his nose. Rick glanced back at him.
“Bad, huh?” he ventured.
“If I live a hundred lifetimes, I’ll never understand how humans can exist and be so nose-blind,” Herc growled. “Are you seriously telling me you can’t smell that?” The other Gaoians had also reacted, recoiling and holding their paws to their noses.
“I can’t smell anything yet. I’ll bet that’s going to change, though. God help me, let’s move in.” Rick waved the group forward, taking a lead of several steps and raising his pistol, which was an honest-to-God American-made Colt m1911 that he’d been abducted with and somehow had managed to hang onto. Before he’d gone a dozen steps, the stench ahead that the Gaoians were flinching from hit him; a sour, rotting, heavy, musky scent that reminded him of something he couldn’t quite recall. They reached the door, trying not to make much noise (an attempt that would have otherwise been comical to watch under other circumstances, and which was largely doomed to failure by the two-meter-tall worm-headed robot clomping along behind the otherwise silent-as-a-ghost Gaoians), and Rick turned the latch, pushing it open.
Or at least, that was what he tried to do. The door wouldn’t budge. Experimentally, he pushed a little harder, and then set his shoulder into it and shoved. At that, it swung reluctantly partway open with the sound of dislodged detritus inside almost louder than the door. Rick’s breath caught in his throat, both because he suddenly realized what the smell was (which had gotten exponentially worse as the door opened), and because what lay in the middle of the floor on top of a layer of heaven-knew-what was something he’d seen before.