[Bale, Wayward Cosmos – 3]

I sat in the dark, stiffly crammed under my emergency control console flat on my butt with my knees up to my chin. I sat and waited, hoping that damn ship would just pass by ignoring me. I stared up at the display watching in lonely despair as the blips representing our two ships had started coming together. I knew that if they were broadcasting there was a chance they assumed my little ship may be populated, active or whatever they may have called occupied.

“Come on, keep going you big bastard,” I pleaded with the display.

Then it happened. It wasn’t the first time, but damn did I hate it. My ship was being scanned by some sort of technology, and all I could do was hope that they couldn’t recognize human life. Spying an abandoned rag-tag blanket next to my feet I quickly grabbed it and pulled it tightly around my shoulders praying feebly to the little known earth textile gods that wool was a substance that could withstand the alien scanning tech.

I didn’t have any technology to tell me what kind of scan it was, what its purpose was, or even if it was a hostile act or not. The only scanners I had at my disposal were the kind that told me if a planet’s surface was habitable or not – literally a yes or no. But the display was telling me that my ship was being bombarded by bagillions of infinitesimal particles that over the years I had determined as, therefore programmed in a warning for; a scanner.

I suddenly felt horribly sick as my stomach uncontrollably clenched up, my fingers and toes screamed out in pain and my neck muscles locked up and forced me to autonomically pull my head back in agony. This sensation, it wasn’t like any equipment malfunction or system error I’d ever encountered. It felt as if I was being probed by something entirely and utterly foreign…

Within a few seconds my torment stopped as I blacked out.

… … …

… … …

… .!. …

I remember I dreamt. I remember dreaming about what? I remember I relived the first time I reached back out on the communications line. That was so stupid of me. Why did I do that? Well I didn’t know it was idiotic now did I? No I didn’t. No of course I didn’t. How could I?

That shimmery ship-craft-blob-thing had come right up to the port side of my ship. I could see it out through the tiny port hole on the oh yeah the port side… I wonder if that is why they called them ‘port holes’ – but what if the holes were on the starboard side – are they called ‘starboard holes?’ I didn’t think so – that would be dumb.

Speaking of a moron, I remember I was scanned that day too, right after they pulled up next to me – it was weird because it had made my eyes go all dry and hurt a bit. I remember how they must have figured out how to open up the bulkhead airlock door from the outside – I never did figure out how they did that – all the air rushed out as they just casually floated in – I lost a bunch of stuff that day as it all violently flew out of the airlock and into empty space – I remember because I was pissed that my one-and-only Rubik’s cube was one of the things forfeited to my arrogance – anyway I thought I was going to die in the bitter cold vacuum of space – the only thing that saved me was that as soon as they came into contact with me, or I should say as soon as the first visitor-creature-thing came within 3 or 4 feet of me it instantly died – I remember those terrifying little beings who when seeing their comrade dead at their, well tentacles I suppose, modified their solid luminescent forms as they went from a light blue color to a deep reddish purple. They opened these horrid mouths gaping soundlessly at me tilting their giant heads backward – there were about a dozen squishy eyes rapidly blinking with numerous appendages flailing about as I gasped for breath that wasn’t there…

“AUGH,” I yelped as I woke up with a start, slamming the top of my head on the underside of the console.

“Son of a, damn it…”

Peering up at the display through squinted eyes I instantly realized that not only had the larger ship left but I had been out cold for about 4 hours.

[467] Words : Straight Line