The Speckled Rock
By
George Larson
Big Jim was bored. No, he was mildly depressed. He was wondering how much down time he had until the next collection. Now on his fifth mission with Aerial, he found the routine monotonous and looked forward to some rest and relaxation. The work had become repetitive, reminiscent of his days on the assembly line in Detroit. Get up in the morning, have a cup of java and then man the controls. Rinse and repeat and do it all over again. His only moments of engagement came during the high-alert operations to retrieve debris, lassoing another piece of metal junk clogging the airways. Jim felt disconnected from his younger, energetic crew and aware of his burnout.
Artemis II, the vessel, was also aging but remained reliable. As a junk hauler with many years of service, she was nearing retirement, much like Jim. Both faced the prospect of being replaced after years of dedicated work. Turned out to pasture like two broken-down dray horses, just old down-on-the heels relics.
Their mission was to collect defunct satellites and miscellaneous debris that had outlived its usefulness. Communications, spy or navigational, it made no difference. The Earth’s orbital sphere was crowded with failed satellites, and it was up to Artie and its crew to remove them to prevent collisions with active equipment. It was a money-making enterprise for Aerial Space Reclamation. It had a lock on the business with no viable competitors.
The crew was preparing to capture their next target, a Japanese communications bird in geostationary orbit that had failed several years prior. Jim anticipated a straightforward retrieval, an easy catch. What they grabbed was more than just a satellite.
The crew maneuvered close to the satellite, adjusting its speed and attitude to bring Artie aside. Extending the arms of the catchers, they grasped the bird and gently carried it to the cargo hold of the ship. It was deposited along with other satellites they had previously retrieved, a total of five and a mix of nationalities. They could go home now, mission accomplished.
Jim inspected the new acquisition as was his custom. This bird was old, likely launched about twelve years ago. He’d later check his data screen to verify when and note his report accordingly. Aerial would be pleased. The originating companies and governments would pay dearly for the return of their satellites, more so for the spy variety.
Allie signaled Jim to meet in the cargo bay. She was his heir apparent who had accompanied him on several missions and was now ready to take command. She earned the top spot on the crew by demonstrating her proficiency in all aspects of the mission. She was a true professional, and Jim was pleased at the prospect of her taking control of Artie.
Allie pointed to the rock that had just been deposited in the cargo bay along with the Japanese satellite. It wasn’t the first time they had picked up a piece of iron in the process, but this meteorite was highly unusual. Unlike typical finds, this rock featured fluorescent green speckling and a dense, spherical form distinguishing it from previous recoveries. It had a mossy covering and resembled an overly large football, and the weight was almost too heavy to lift. Allie tried and was barely able to lift the rock. She dimmed the lighting and the rock glowed in the dark. They both thought it had an eerie, creepy look. Jim later would consult his data screen to determine the nature of this unusual find but first had to concentrate on the ship’s reentry plan for Earth. Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
The next day, Allie frantically called Jim telling him to immediately come to the bay. It seemed the rock had changed. The green moss had grown substantially overnight. The thing now resembled a Chia Pet on steroids, a child’s toy from his earlier life. They speculated the oxygen enriched atmosphere had aided the growth of the mossy tendrils now coming from the rock. Jim could find no reference to the speckled rock in the ship’s database. That was puzzling since the data cache was supposedly state of the art. What they’d found was unique, a one-of-a-kind prize.
Allie was taken with the meteorite, perhaps obsessed. She spent much of her spare time sitting, looking at the rock as if in a daze, almost a dreamlike state of reverie. She spoke to it as if it were alive, caressing the tendrils which continued to grow under her watchful eye.
Jim was busy with the details of the reentry process, going over the computations for a safe journey back home to Earth. He knew it was to be his last one. It was over.
Jim gave the strange rock a lot of thought over the next few hours. Something was alive and growing on the meteorite. He thought the mossy substance might, just might, contain the cure for cancer or other horrific diseases besetting man. It was possible. Or it could be a virus that would wipe out all of mankind in short order. That was also possible. Stumped for an answer, he sent off an immediate precedence message to Aerial’s ground headquarters asking for guidance, passing the buck for a decision. He now had less than twenty-four hours before the ship started its descent, gradually leaving orbit and wending its way back home.
Allie had been quiet for the past few hours and Jim was worried. He was concerned about her need, her compulsion to stay watching the speckled rock. It wasn’t normal the way she interacted with the damn thing. It was almost like her innate maternal instincts were coming to the fore, unhealthy and perhaps dangerous. They knew nothing of the rock and its origins. They knew even less about the green substance. He would order Allie to stay away from it for her own safety.
Jim tried to contact Tony, the other crew member. This was his first voyage and so far, so good. He was still wet behind the ears as expected but he performed his duties ably. He was a newbie with a dry sense of humor who could keep the three of us entertained, belly laughing at times with his racy tales of a randy bachelor. He was a great kid who would do well in the employ of Aerial. But Tony must have been out of earshot now since he wasn’t answering his call. That was unusual since he never went anywhere on the ship without his ear buds, very strange.
Jim was going to the cargo hold to check on Allie but before he did he stopped by Tony’s quarters to see if he was okay. He wasn’t. No God, he wasn’t! What he saw chilled him. Tony was on the floor wrapped tightly in green tendrils, choking on the moss that had climbed over him, filling his mouth and nose. He was trying to pull the green strands out but was unable. His airway was blocked and he was gasping for air. The thing was trying to suffocate him. Jim reached down and with all his strength he was able to free Tony’s mouth and nose of the Godawful globs of green! Now sitting up and still gasping for air, Tony puked his guts, exhaling tiny bits of green threads as he did. He was alive but shaken and confused.
Jim immediately left him to recover and wasted no time in getting to the cargo bay. Walking the length of the ship, he glimpsed greenish moss adhering to the bulkheads. It seemed that it was turning color into a shade of bright green, perhaps maturing into something more powerful, even ghastlier. It was quickly engulfing the entire ship.
Allie was totally enveloped in a cocoon of green filaments. Extending from head to foot, the moss protruded into her eye sockets, nasal cavity, ears and mouth. The top of her head was a swirl of green threads moving about like the Medusa. She was dead by the looks of her as she stood tall over the rock, seeming to levitate rather than standing. She then spoke in a tinny, maniacal voice. The words were not coming from her mouth but rather conveyed in almost a telepathic manner. I was frozen in shock by what I saw and then heard.
I am the conveyor of death, death with no beginning or end. I have traveled the universe for untold millennia seeking death and destruction of living creatures. I devour worlds. That is my destiny and quest. I revel in my work to bring sorrow into worlds well beyond yonder. You mere mortals are yet another creature to be vanquished. That is what I live for—DEATH!
Shuddering as he did, Jim ran to the hatch, opening and securing it, keeping the creature safely inside, at least for now. He had to regain his wits although he wasn’t sure what to do. On his way back to the bridge, he decided to contact Aerial again. This time he’d tell the whole truth about what was happening to Artie. They probably wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t have any better thoughts. Big Jim feared DEATH!
With trembling fingers, he typed a message once again to Aerial explaining the bizarre encounter with the alien force. He waited for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time for a response. It finally came.
Abort reentry. Repeat, abort reentry! May God have mercy on your souls.
Big Jim realized what the message meant. He and Tony were about to die in space. He then unlocked the self-destruction switch on the ship’s console. He hesitated for just a second before pushing the red button. It was his last act as the commander of Artemis II. He thought it was a fitting end, going out with a bang rather than a whimper. Like a line of verse, he hazily remembered from long ago.
Two seconds later Artie imploded. Momentarily making a bright spot in the sky for all to see. Fragments of the ship fell to Earth, along with greenish filaments.
George Larson retired as a special agent from the Diplomatic Security Service, US Department of State. He has written eight novels (Dick Avery Adventure Stories) in addition to fifteen short horror stories. He holds a BA degree in English (Nom Cum Laude).
By
George Larson
Big Jim was bored. No, he was mildly depressed. He was wondering how much down time he had until the next collection. Now on his fifth mission with Aerial, he found the routine monotonous and looked forward to some rest and relaxation. The work had become repetitive, reminiscent of his days on the assembly line in Detroit. Get up in the morning, have a cup of java and then man the controls. Rinse and repeat and do it all over again. His only moments of engagement came during the high-alert operations to retrieve debris, lassoing another piece of metal junk clogging the airways. Jim felt disconnected from his younger, energetic crew and aware of his burnout.
Artemis II, the vessel, was also aging but remained reliable. As a junk hauler with many years of service, she was nearing retirement, much like Jim. Both faced the prospect of being replaced after years of dedicated work. Turned out to pasture like two broken-down dray horses, just old down-on-the heels relics.
Their mission was to collect defunct satellites and miscellaneous debris that had outlived its usefulness. Communications, spy or navigational, it made no difference. The Earth’s orbital sphere was crowded with failed satellites, and it was up to Artie and its crew to remove them to prevent collisions with active equipment. It was a money-making enterprise for Aerial Space Reclamation. It had a lock on the business with no viable competitors.
The crew was preparing to capture their next target, a Japanese communications bird in geostationary orbit that had failed several years prior. Jim anticipated a straightforward retrieval, an easy catch. What they grabbed was more than just a satellite.
The crew maneuvered close to the satellite, adjusting its speed and attitude to bring Artie aside. Extending the arms of the catchers, they grasped the bird and gently carried it to the cargo hold of the ship. It was deposited along with other satellites they had previously retrieved, a total of five and a mix of nationalities. They could go home now, mission accomplished.
Jim inspected the new acquisition as was his custom. This bird was old, likely launched about twelve years ago. He’d later check his data screen to verify when and note his report accordingly. Aerial would be pleased. The originating companies and governments would pay dearly for the return of their satellites, more so for the spy variety.
Allie signaled Jim to meet in the cargo bay. She was his heir apparent who had accompanied him on several missions and was now ready to take command. She earned the top spot on the crew by demonstrating her proficiency in all aspects of the mission. She was a true professional, and Jim was pleased at the prospect of her taking control of Artie.
Allie pointed to the rock that had just been deposited in the cargo bay along with the Japanese satellite. It wasn’t the first time they had picked up a piece of iron in the process, but this meteorite was highly unusual. Unlike typical finds, this rock featured fluorescent green speckling and a dense, spherical form distinguishing it from previous recoveries. It had a mossy covering and resembled an overly large football, and the weight was almost too heavy to lift. Allie tried and was barely able to lift the rock. She dimmed the lighting and the rock glowed in the dark. They both thought it had an eerie, creepy look. Jim later would consult his data screen to determine the nature of this unusual find but first had to concentrate on the ship’s reentry plan for Earth. Home again, home again, jiggety jig.
The next day, Allie frantically called Jim telling him to immediately come to the bay. It seemed the rock had changed. The green moss had grown substantially overnight. The thing now resembled a Chia Pet on steroids, a child’s toy from his earlier life. They speculated the oxygen enriched atmosphere had aided the growth of the mossy tendrils now coming from the rock. Jim could find no reference to the speckled rock in the ship’s database. That was puzzling since the data cache was supposedly state of the art. What they’d found was unique, a one-of-a-kind prize.
Allie was taken with the meteorite, perhaps obsessed. She spent much of her spare time sitting, looking at the rock as if in a daze, almost a dreamlike state of reverie. She spoke to it as if it were alive, caressing the tendrils which continued to grow under her watchful eye.
Jim was busy with the details of the reentry process, going over the computations for a safe journey back home to Earth. He knew it was to be his last one. It was over.
Jim gave the strange rock a lot of thought over the next few hours. Something was alive and growing on the meteorite. He thought the mossy substance might, just might, contain the cure for cancer or other horrific diseases besetting man. It was possible. Or it could be a virus that would wipe out all of mankind in short order. That was also possible. Stumped for an answer, he sent off an immediate precedence message to Aerial’s ground headquarters asking for guidance, passing the buck for a decision. He now had less than twenty-four hours before the ship started its descent, gradually leaving orbit and wending its way back home.
Allie had been quiet for the past few hours and Jim was worried. He was concerned about her need, her compulsion to stay watching the speckled rock. It wasn’t normal the way she interacted with the damn thing. It was almost like her innate maternal instincts were coming to the fore, unhealthy and perhaps dangerous. They knew nothing of the rock and its origins. They knew even less about the green substance. He would order Allie to stay away from it for her own safety.
Jim tried to contact Tony, the other crew member. This was his first voyage and so far, so good. He was still wet behind the ears as expected but he performed his duties ably. He was a newbie with a dry sense of humor who could keep the three of us entertained, belly laughing at times with his racy tales of a randy bachelor. He was a great kid who would do well in the employ of Aerial. But Tony must have been out of earshot now since he wasn’t answering his call. That was unusual since he never went anywhere on the ship without his ear buds, very strange.
Jim was going to the cargo hold to check on Allie but before he did he stopped by Tony’s quarters to see if he was okay. He wasn’t. No God, he wasn’t! What he saw chilled him. Tony was on the floor wrapped tightly in green tendrils, choking on the moss that had climbed over him, filling his mouth and nose. He was trying to pull the green strands out but was unable. His airway was blocked and he was gasping for air. The thing was trying to suffocate him. Jim reached down and with all his strength he was able to free Tony’s mouth and nose of the Godawful globs of green! Now sitting up and still gasping for air, Tony puked his guts, exhaling tiny bits of green threads as he did. He was alive but shaken and confused.
Jim immediately left him to recover and wasted no time in getting to the cargo bay. Walking the length of the ship, he glimpsed greenish moss adhering to the bulkheads. It seemed that it was turning color into a shade of bright green, perhaps maturing into something more powerful, even ghastlier. It was quickly engulfing the entire ship.
Allie was totally enveloped in a cocoon of green filaments. Extending from head to foot, the moss protruded into her eye sockets, nasal cavity, ears and mouth. The top of her head was a swirl of green threads moving about like the Medusa. She was dead by the looks of her as she stood tall over the rock, seeming to levitate rather than standing. She then spoke in a tinny, maniacal voice. The words were not coming from her mouth but rather conveyed in almost a telepathic manner. I was frozen in shock by what I saw and then heard.
I am the conveyor of death, death with no beginning or end. I have traveled the universe for untold millennia seeking death and destruction of living creatures. I devour worlds. That is my destiny and quest. I revel in my work to bring sorrow into worlds well beyond yonder. You mere mortals are yet another creature to be vanquished. That is what I live for—DEATH!
Shuddering as he did, Jim ran to the hatch, opening and securing it, keeping the creature safely inside, at least for now. He had to regain his wits although he wasn’t sure what to do. On his way back to the bridge, he decided to contact Aerial again. This time he’d tell the whole truth about what was happening to Artie. They probably wouldn’t believe him, but he didn’t have any better thoughts. Big Jim feared DEATH!
With trembling fingers, he typed a message once again to Aerial explaining the bizarre encounter with the alien force. He waited for what seemed to be an interminable amount of time for a response. It finally came.
Abort reentry. Repeat, abort reentry! May God have mercy on your souls.
Big Jim realized what the message meant. He and Tony were about to die in space. He then unlocked the self-destruction switch on the ship’s console. He hesitated for just a second before pushing the red button. It was his last act as the commander of Artemis II. He thought it was a fitting end, going out with a bang rather than a whimper. Like a line of verse, he hazily remembered from long ago.
Two seconds later Artie imploded. Momentarily making a bright spot in the sky for all to see. Fragments of the ship fell to Earth, along with greenish filaments.
George Larson retired as a special agent from the Diplomatic Security Service, US Department of State. He has written eight novels (Dick Avery Adventure Stories) in addition to fifteen short horror stories. He holds a BA degree in English (Nom Cum Laude).