Science Fiction Short Stories

Spike in Space

Mal Reynolds and Simon Tam searched the Pioneer in answer to its distress call.

They found no one, alive or dead. Mal opened the door to the infirmary and the smell of corruption stopped them. They put filter masks on to enter.

Dismembered bodies were scattered around the room. The bodies of a man and a woman lay on tables. A mound of dust rested under another table.

Simon inspected the bodies. "No blood. Twelve people, crew. The two bodies on the table only have their throats torn and are bloodless, just like the body parts. No blood spilled. " He shook his head. "I've never seen or heard of anything like this. Who—or what could have taken the blood and left bodies?"

"Not reavers. The skin is still on them." Mal took a deep breath. "Some new variation of reaver, perhaps? Or a new, blood-drinking monster?"

"Let's check the bridge. See what's in the ship's log."

The bridge was deserted, the ship on auto-pilot to orbit Cheapjack, a large moon orbiting near Deadwood.

Mal opened the captain's log. "Hmmm. The Pioneer, crew numbering 12, was traveling to Cheapjack from Deadwood with cargo and one passenger, when an interplanetary shuttle asked for medical help. The passengers and pilot boarded, five of them. The medical orderly took them to the infirmary—" he looked at Simon, then continued. "The orderly called for help. Everyone but the captain and co-pilot went to the cafeteria. That's all there is."

"So those five killed everyone and left?"

Mal contacted the Serenity. "Zoe, any life forms detected?"

"Just you two, Mal. We're passing into the shadow of Cheapjack, so night has fallen."

Mal searched the ship's records. "Five survival pods. One has a body."

"There were twelve bodies in the cafeteria."

Simon nodded. "Maybe the passenger is in the pod."

Mal shook his head. "Let's check them out."

                                                                                            ***

The second pod held one man--tall, lean, dressed in head-to-toe black. Deathly pale, short white hair. Simon ran an examination. "No heartbeat, bloodless but not torn apart. No throat wounds, or any wounds."

"So how'd they get the blood out?"

Mal and Simon stared at each other, then at the corpse. The corpse opened its eyes and sat up.

"Blood. I need blood." Spike clung weakly to the cot. Mal and Simon pointed their guns at him. "Not yours. The others killed the crew. I tried to fight them, but they were too many. They had to leave before daybreak, so I escaped to the pod. Blood. In the infirmary."

Spike lurched to the pod door. Mal caught his arm. Spike transformed into vampire, teeth bared. He pushed Mal away and collapsed on the floor. He shuddered, looking at them, eyes glittering. "Sorry. I'm very, very hungry. I've got to get the blood from the infirmary."

"I've got two units in my medical bag," said Simon.

Spike's eyes blazed. "Give it to me now." He reached for Simon's first aid bag.

Simon said, "I'll hook you up to an intravenous."

"NO! THE BAG! NOW!" Spike grabbed the bag.

Mal pushed him down and said, "Give him a unit."