Biologist, Jacek (sometimes Jack) Yaktevoti has been sent into space to examine the alarming effect of an interplanetary nomadic species known as ‘roid roaches, on the planets ad hoc defenses against a meteor belt that threatens Earth. As we join the action, the doctor is still recovering from the sedation deemed necessary to ensure a man his age and in his condition would survive lift-off in absence of time for proper training.
- He unbuckled his belt and for the first time to his brief
surprise he floated in the cabin, while questions still floated around his head
from the obscure portion of his recent history, rebounding in his addled dome
as he ricocheted clumsily to the cock-pit, questions like, ‘What’s
this guy’s name?’ The pilot turned around in his seat and offered
his hand. “The name’s Charlie.”
- Problem solved. “I’m Jack.” Dr. Yaktevoti liked floating.
He gazed contentedly on the unfamiliar face of a gum smacking flyboy complete
with reflective aviator shades. “What’d you want me to look at?”
- “Well Jack, I don’t know how much you remember from the debriefing,
but the satellite radar readings we’ve been receiving back have been taken
by equipment that isn’t too well adapted for tracking smaller objects
at much distance, so pretty much all we could tell from the data we got back
was that the ‘roid roaches seemed dense in the areas around the satellites.”
- “I vaguely recall, yes.” He decided Charlie’s accent was
from Chicago.
- “Well, now our radar screen’s crammed full of readings like we
got from the satellites.” Charlie inflated and popped a quick pink bubble.
- “Already? But we’re not supposed to reach the Barrier perimeter
for another two days.”
- “That’s right, and then probably another day before the closest
satellite, so I sez’ to Ivan either these readings’re no good or..”
- “..there’s a lot more of them then we thought and they’re
headed toward Earth.” The doctor’s interruption was in turn interrupted
by a solid thud that jostled the ship, tossing him headlong against the doorframe
he had been holding to steady himself. He floated limp for a moment, a lump
forming three inches above his right eye.
- “Shit, something just came out of nowhere and took a swipe at us.”
Charlie’s cocky voice and general demeanor cracked. He looked up from
his dials to see a pair of jaws nearly five feet long, rimmed with jagged teeth,
and spread apart as if to release a harrowing shriek into the deafening vacuum
of space. All this was framed with a certain compositional aesthetic in the
view provided from the front window of the pilot’s cabin.
- “Shit! Jesus! What do I do?” The rocket jockey unfastened his
harness and kicked off from the control panel. He brushed past the doctor and
soared into the sleeping cabin repeating to no one in particular, “It’s
on top of us. It’s on the ship.” The man called walrus, again swimming
up from the lower berthing, caught Charlie and locked him in a soldierly stare.
- “We can’t use the ship’s weapons while it’s perched
up there,” Charlie observed as his panic visibly resided, “so we’ll
just have to go out there to get ‘em off,” his cockiness naturally
overcompensated, “Sorry, I lost my cool for a minute. Mother was just
bigger than I expected. I let my son go out shooting those pests for kicks when
we visit the in-laws. I wonder what he’d think if he saw his old man shit
himself at the sight of a ‘roid roach.” The walrus was not laughing.
- “I’m not certain this is the same pest.” Jacek was gradually
regaining his senses for the third time that day.
- “Close enough,” muttered Charlie kicked his feet in the air and,
grasping the open floor-hatch with both hands he pulled himself headfirst to
the floor of lower quarters, where he deftly planted his hand and dedirected
himself aft, back toward the airlock and series of sealed chambers he had to
pass through to leave the ship. The walrus followed and Ivan came after to help
them suit up, but the boyish Russian popped back up and released a white cylinder
to float towards them. “Just in case,” he grinned and arched his
heavy blond eyebrows. The floating object resembled a pipe thick as Jack’s
leg, with an exaggerated handle and trigger at one end designed for the clumsy
gloves of a full spacesuit. It stirred foggy memories of the past week. He dimly
recalled receiving a cursory introduction to the basic function of this weapon.
It was a speargun of sorts, specially adapted to absorb recoil that could send
the bearer tumbling into space. The instrument’s most innovative feature
was a thread-thin synthetic cable connected to each spear and wound on a system
of reels hidden within the mechanism, which held fast unless ejected. The cables
were made of a new material that employed molecular structures discovered in
researching the roaches’ shells. He had been informed at some point he
couldn’t place, that these fine threads of the new material were many
times stronger than the anchor chain of an aircraft carrier.
- Another groggy synapse fired for the first time in days, another faceless
uniform, and another droning lecture about something he could not possibly have
persuaded himself to care about, if he weren’t convinced the fate of the
world was at stake. Yaktevoti spun to Cookie, “There are exterior cameras,
right? Isn’t the monitor in the cockpit?”
- “It’s right there in the center panel. Come..” Each in turn
positioned themselves to float into the two unoccupied seats of the cramped
pilot cabin. Cookie switched on a monitor. “Here’s a top view from
the front. See he’s left.”
- “What other views are there?”
- “Here’s the same from back, and here’s…”
- “Wait,” Yaktevoti cut her off, “is that its tail?”
Curling onto the roof from the port side was a thick armored appendage that
tapered to a point resembling something between a lizard’s tail and a
geological outcropping. “God it’s enormous. Ivan!” he hollered
over his shoulder, and turned back to the monitor. “Switch to port side
view.” As she did, he shouted again, “Don’t let them go out
yet!” and again returned his gaze to the monitor, asking, “How do
you work the interco..” Too late for that, the flickering monitor showed
a side view of the airlock sliding irrevocably open, while the monster perched
in waiting above. Uselessly the doctor and the lieutenant screamed, “NO!”
in unison.
- With a long slender neck, the new creature’s proportions were much sleeker
than common ‘roid roaches’, though it had similar wings and a gas
sack on its back like the aliens previously encountered. The principle difference
was size. By Jacek’s estimate, this one was around twenty feet from beak
to tail, six or seven feet of which snaked through the airlock passage once
it was open wide enough, with its talons still clutching the hull above. When
it reemerged in less time than it took both astronauts watching the grainy video-feed
to scream their warning-turned-protest-turned-horror, Charlie’s helpless,
space-suited body was securely clamped at the middle in its jaws. On the irresolute
monitor, Jacek made out Charlie’s fine features and dark hair inside the
helmet, He could see Charlie’s wide eyes, and his mouth gaping to express
his inaudible agony. He had just noticed the blood on Charlie’s clear
face plate, before he abruptly turned his head and coughed as if he would wretch.
The thing began to shake its prey to death.
©DCSmith 2005