by Taylor Grand
A faint rasping sound.
It seemed to emanate from the other side of a black lounger just ahead—a large one that probably sat twelve comfortably. From Vega’s vantage point—looking at the back of it—no one appeared to be sitting there.
He switched to a two-handed grip and rushed toward it, finger tight on the weapon’s trigger.
What he saw caught him by surprise. Sprawled out on the floor was a teenage girl; she was a brunette with a boyish figure—perhaps 14 years old. Her standard-issue uniform was still intact and she appeared completely unharmed.
Her chest rose and fell ever so slightly, and there was a slight rasp to her breath. She’s still in stasis, he thought. She’d been taken from her sleep pod without being awakened. It would take a special chemical injection to bring her back to consciousness.
There were two types of HH victims: “Transmitters” and “Feeders.” Transmitters were human hosts used to propagate the parasites; Feeders were humans used solely as sustenance. HH was an abbreviation for “Homo Hirudinea,” a scientific term for the human host of a parasitic alien. Earth’s general populace, of course, chose more colorful terms, such as ‘Leeches,’ ‘Hemo-Gobblers,’ ‘Vamps,’ and ‘BFTs’ (Big Fucking Ticks).
Once a victim was infected, chemical changes to their hormones, along with a massive overproduction of adrenaline, resulted in superhuman strength and reflexes. Muscle, bone and connective tissue thickened, followed by functional changes to the teeth and nails—presumably for capturing prey. Inexplicably, the transformation made the host extremely vulnerable to the ultra violet spectrum while producing an insatiable desire for human hematophagy—feeding on human blood. For these reasons, many believed that scouting missions by the parasites early in mankind’s history had originated the vampire myth.
Vega’s grip on his disrupter tightened.
A shadow passed over the girl’s face.
It’s above us, Vega thought. Clinging to the ceiling.
The HH landed on him, using the same terrible claws on his helmet that it had used to climb the walls.
Before he could get off a shot, it had ripped the disrupter from his hand and torn off his faceplate with inhuman strength. Vega scrunched his eyes shut, anticipating the worst: he would either be sucked dry or turned. He hoped it was the former.
But the bite didn’t come.
He could smell fetid breath on his face. And something wet dripped onto his cheek, sliding down past his neck. Saliva? Blood?
Both?
When he could no longer bear the waiting he opened his eyes. Inches from his face the creature gazed at him. The first thing Vega noticed was its teeth. They were sharp all right, but they were still small and hadn’t fully formed yet.
Its features were angelic, with the supple skin of a seven-year-old boy.
The eyes were haunted, but familiar.
“Hello, son,” Vega choked.
And then, deep within those icy blue eyes, Vega saw a hint of recognition. They began to soften. And he knew at that moment that his son had not completely turned.
“It’s me, Arrycc. It’s Daddy.”
The boy’s face trembled and tears welled in his eyes. His mouth began to quiver, as if trying to remember how to speak.
And then a word came that Vega didn’t think he would ever hear again.
“Daddy?”
There was confusion on the boy’s face, as if he’d woken from a deep coma and was struggling to put together the fragments of his memories.
“It’s me, little monkey,” Vega said, a term of endearment he’d used since his son was a baby.
It was as if a dam broke inside the boy. Tears gushed and he threw his arms around his father as if he’d been away for years. And technically, he had.
Vega reached up and tried to hug his son as best he could while wearing battle armor. “It’s okay. I’m here now. It’s okay.”
He held his son for a long time, feeling the boy’s moist face against his.
Soon the reality of the situation began to sink in. Arrycc’s intended victim only a few feet away from them. The parasite inside his son. His own treachery to get the boy onboard the ship.
They stood up and faced each other awkwardly. The boy averted his eyes from the girl, ashamed. Vega glanced down and sighed with relief.
He hasn’t turned all the way. Maybe I can still save him.
****
The origin of the parasites had been impossible to authenticate, but many in the scientific community speculated they were interdimensional. At a quantum level they vibrated at a frequency that made them imperceptible to the naked eye—until they possessed a human host.
The epidemic had been as fast as it was complete; spreading to every human-occupied mining colony, outpost and space station. Physicists speculated that the invaders utilized some form of quantum tunneling technology, enabling them to travel through the multiverse in ways far beyond our scientific capabilities.
Zeta-12, a deep space research station was the only remaining outpost that survived the invasion. The team there, led by Dr. Mirann Tael, was renowned for their groundbreaking work in genetic engineering, specifically in immunology. Their greatest triumph was ‘“Batch 779,’” a prototype biotech curative that combined nanotechnology with alien plant DNA.
Batch 779 had been engineered to enhance the immune system and project against a myriad of diseases; early human trials had showed great promise. During the parasite invasion, it was discovered that Batch 779 had an added benefit; it provided resistance to the parasites. And while the curative had saved the lives of the Zeta-12 crew, without any way to mass-produce it, or transport it quickly enough, it had been too late to save Earth or its interstellar colonies.
Vega and the passengers of his ship, the Phoenix, were currently on a course for Zeta-12, to get Batch 779 inoculations. Vega had put his son in stasis with the intention of getting him the curative before the parasite turned him completely. And the plan would have worked if the boy hadn’t awoken early, six months before reaching their destination.
Vega tried to convince Arrycc to return to his sleep pod with the promise of a cure. He first appealed to him with reason, then begged and pleaded, and later threatened the boy. But Arrycc refused, clearly under the influence of the parasite. Back on ORION, the space station closest to Earth, his son had been bitten less than twenty-four hours before going into stasis on the Phoenix. However, according to Sona’s daily logs, the boy woke eight hours before Vega had. This meant that technically—not counting the five years they had been in stasis—his son had been infected for four days. The incubation period was approximately a week. During the first few days, victims would generally maintain some semblance of their original identity. But inevitably they would succumb to the parasite’s influence and become what some crudely referred to as ‘walking meat puppets.’
How Arrycc had awoken from stasis was still a mystery. He could only assume that the physiology of the parasite, which was completely alien in nature, gave it some sort of resistance to the stasis field. The thought of how far they had come, how much they had been through, only to lose the battle now—was almost too much to bear. The parasite epidemic had destroyed everything Vega had ever known or cared about, his best friend Tallic, his little sister Norra, and his wife Ahn.
ORION had been ill prepared for the parasite invasion, their armory woefully inadequate. The Earth Defense Network discovered, quite by accident, that the parasites were vulnerable to microwave and UV radiation. Once word got to ORION of the parasite’s weakness, they had retrofitted as much weaponry as they could, but there simply hadn’t been enough time to battle the parasites effectively.
Vega was the captain of the Phoenix, the only interstellar ship docked at ORION at the time of the attack. As the highest ranking military officer on the station, he was forced to make difficult decisions, such as initiating a lottery to decide who would gain access to the Phoenix, and who would have to stay behind.
Some of the lottery wi
nners were immediately disqualified, as blood samples revealed that they had already been infected. Vega used his power and influence to sneak Arrycc on board the ship and bypass the screening process altogether.
It had been a long shot to save his son, and he’d risked everything for it; his crew, the passengers—even himself. If his plan were discovered, he would face a court martial and most likely, the death penalty. But it was a risk he was willing to take. Arrycc was all he had left to live for.
Humankind’s survival had been foremost on Vega’s mind since he’d awoken. Between his passengers, crew and the 74 inhabitants of Zeta-12—there were 574 human beings that represented the remainder of humanity.
From 10,000,000,000 to 574 in the span of a year—it was still unfathomable.
And yet there was hope. The terraformed planet on which Zeta-12 stood was in its final phase; and according to Dr. Tael, it was capable of sustaining the passengers and crew of the Phoenix for a lifetime.
There was one small problem.
Arrycc.
Vega realized, with growing dread, that if he didn’t get his son back into hyper sleep soon, he would have no choice but to kill him.
****
He found Arrycc in the same place as before, sitting entranced in front of the holo-screen. He moved a few steps toward his son, who sniffed at the air absently, and then went back to watching the screen.
It was Gloop and Gloopy again, Arrycc’s favorite show since as far back as Vega could remember. It revolved around the misadventures of two teenaged aliens who had crash-landed on Earth after taking their dad’s spaceship for a joyride.
Vega stood there for a long moment, staring at his boy, longing to hold him. A swarm of memories surged up all at once. The first was of the day he’d been carrying his infant son, and the naked boy had taken a poop—right in his hand. Vega cried out to his wife for help, but Ahn was too busy crumpled on the floor with laughter.
He smiled at the memory.
Next, he remembered the first time Arrycc had ridden a hover-board by himself, and the pride he’d felt watching his boy soar. He recalled reading to Arrycc before bedtime, who would beg him for old stories of ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. Afterward, he would have to promise that the monsters weren’t real.
And now his son was becoming one.
Two days prior, when Vega thought Arrycc had turned, he’d been prepared to kill him. But now, as he stood in the doorway, watching his own flesh and blood, he knew he couldn’t—not if there was the slightest chance he could save him.
He entered the room and made his way to the lounger. As he sat next to Arrycc, his body tensed. The boy revealed no emotion; it was all the more eerie listening to the cartoon’s canned laugh track.
They sat in silence for an uncomfortably long time. At first it seemed like a perverse joke, a dark and twisted mockery of times past, when they’d huddled together in front of the holo-screen. All they needed now was a bucket of popcorn and a bucket of blood to wash it down.
However, as the hours passed, Vega’s revulsion began to pass. The desperate need to connect with his son was like a silent third party. Sitting there, he could almost pretend that things were normal. He could even imagine his wife, Ahn, off in the kitchen making one of her amazing dishes.
When the longing became too much to bear, he reached around his son’s shoulders; it was as if he was watching from outside himself—not completely in control of his actions.
His son glanced at him for a moment. Deep within those sunken eyes, there appeared to be a spark of humanity.
It was enough.
Vega didn’t move for some time, afraid that any motion might disturb the boy and shatter the illusion.
Arrycc didn’t move either.
Vega knew that at any point the boy could turn, literally and figuratively. But something about the look they’d shared told him he wasn’t in danger.
Not yet.
How long would their father-son bond protect him? The amount of time it took to succumb to a parasite’s influence varied from person to person. He had heard of extreme cases on Earth where particularly strong-willed individuals managed to retain their identity for several weeks.
Arrycc certainly had a strong will going for him, something he’d inherited from both his parents. And, of course, the boy’s love for him had always been strong. But how long would love and the will of a seven-year-old boy last?
The hunger was inevitable.
For now he wouldn’t think about it. For now he would cherish what might be their final moments together.
****
The hunger came.
Four days later he found Arrycc in the stasis chamber with a new victim, dragging a teenage boy with thick red hair from his sleep pod. The boy was unaware of what was happening and would remain that way unless chemically induced to consciousness.
It was a blessing.
The look on Arrycc’s face was one of defiance, a look with which Vega was intimately familiar. Without his disrupter or armor he posed no threat—Arrycc could dispatch him easily.
“Arrycc,” he heard himself say. It sounded rather weak, with a hint of despair. “Please…don’t.”
His son looked at him quizzically.
“Please…”
And then the expression on Arrycc’s face seemed to melt into something else. Vega had seen it many times before, whenever his son wanted something desperately, like a brand new toy or an extra helping of dessert.
He had always had a hard time saying no to him. Ahn had often teased him about it. How can a man used to ordering around a crew all day have such a hard time saying no to a little boy?
But they had both known the answer. Vega’s career kept him from his family so much that he wanted to make sure he gave his son whatever he wanted when he was around. Grimly, he realized that the past week had been the longest stretch of time he’d ever spent with his son at one time.
And now, when saying “no” was the most important thing he could do, he knew it would do no good. Arrycc had the hunger now. He could see it in his eyes. God help him, there was nothing to do now but let his son feed.
Vega turned and walked away. He couldn’t stop the boy from his first kill, but he sure as hell wouldn’t stand around and watch.
He had barely taken a step when the grisly sounds of flesh being torn and the lapping of blood began.
****
The first death was the hardest for Vega to stomach. But as the long weeks turned into longer months, the guilt that gnawed at him began to dissipate. Like most horrible things, prolonged exposure deadened the effects.
By the third month he had lost count of the bodies. Was it 16…18?
Once the victim’s bodies were drained of blood, Vega dutifully jettisoned the remains into space through the garbage chute, standard protocol for corpses in deep space.
The missing passengers would have to be accounted for at some point, but he’d already worked out an explanation. He would blame their deaths on Sona. Droids weren’t perfect, and breakdowns weren’t unheard of. A simple miscalculation in cryo-fluids from the ship’s droid would explain the passenger’s deaths easily enough.
No one would suspect foul play from a twice-decorated captain with a spotless military record. Besides, survival would be first and foremost on everyone’s mind once they reached the outpost.
How he would deal with Arrycc was a bit more complicated. He figured there were three ways it could go. The first option was that Arrycc would kill him. The second, he would kill his son. Third, and the least likely, he would find a way to keep Arrycc hidden while they docked at Zeta-12, just long enough to get his hands on Batch 779 and save him.
He was still trying to work out the last option. But it wasn’t easy with such an unpredictable variable as the parasite.
It had now been over four months since he and his son had awoken. Arrycc was, for all intents and purposes, a bloodsucking monster. And yet, the boy’s disposit
ion had hardly changed. He had stopped speaking, of course, but that was typical. The parasites were able to communicate with each other without speaking, most likely telepathically, although that had never been proven. It was possible for them to speak through their human hosts, though rarely seen—victims of the parasites tended to simply grunt or snarl.
When Arrycc wasn’t feeding or sleeping, he spent his time watching old movies and documentaries or reading through endless archives about Earth—on every conceivable topic. The sophistication level of his research had grown exponentially in all areas of math, science and the arts. He seemed to especially enjoy reading about world religions and theology.
Was there any shred of Arrycc left? Vega had convinced himself there was. Why else had he been allowed to live? Of course, he was a critical member of the crew. Arrycc certainly couldn’t navigate the ship by himself. But Vega clung to the former idea like a life raft, hoping Arrycc was still somewhere inside the silent figure that had become his only companion.
Arrycc didn’t appear to mind Vega’s presence. They would often sit next to each other in the entertainment room, watching the holo-screen. For hours they would sit quietly, often viewing documentaries, which seemed to be Arrycc’s favorite.
Vega found it comforting to sit next to his son. In his mind he could almost pretend that everything was still normal. Sometimes he thought he could spend the rest of his life like this, just he and his son, spending quality time together—the kind of time he’d never had a chance to experience on the space station. He realized that if he never awoke the rest of the crew, there would be enough food to last him a lifetime.
But Arrycc would only last about five years, factoring in the rate at which he fed on the bodies in the stasis chamber. If he had been a full-grown adult it would have been half the time…
The only chance his son had now was to get him to Zeta-12 and pray that Batch 779 would still work on someone this far along in the transformation process.
****
Vega had never been so happy to see and speak to another human being in his life. If he could have reached through the communication screen he would have hugged Dr. Tael.