tibits

Wabak

"Quarantine? Quarantine!" The voice was not anymore poised and calm. It was as a banshee shrieking to death.

Tarrou observed the man who shouted his outraged to the situation. The station had been declared a quarantine zone with immediate effect. No one could have predicted this output.

It was not even a day they had moored their Ophelia to this hole in space. They were on their way to Tau Ceti, from one of the forgotten mining camp in the asteroid clusters. Station 18 − it did not even have a proper name− was the usual stop over for cargos from all horizons, some shadier than other.

What was supposed to have been a short stopover of two to three days, recharging the ion accelerators and enjoying a blonde or two, bubbly and refreshing, was now turning to a Huis Clos, No Exit. A stop in purgatory.

"You the Capt'n of the Ophelia? Need to talk to you, man!" The banshee appeared to be a man of medium size and pale complexion. Rambert, as he introduced himself, self-proclaimed frontier-man, explorer and gentleman, was no more than a low paid pen-pusher, a failed journalist writing stories never published.

"Garcia told me you'd help me... for the right price..." The man was sweating profusely, though the climate regulator worked well. Tarrou took two steps away from him, not so sure about the quarantine issue. Would people be contagious?

"I doubt Garcia mentioned me. It's never a good idea to assume about the honesty, or lack thereof, of anyone on this part of the galaxy. Anyway, with the station closed up tighter than Dick's hatband there's no chance any ship will leave." Tarrou took another step back, getting away from Rambert who started to cough.

"Go see Rieux, in the sick bay. Seems you got the rock flue cold. Had one of my crew down with it when we arrived..."

The man, visibly ill, looked confused. Nodding, he slowly turned to the general direction of the sick bay. Tarrou hoped it would be his destination, and not the bar in its vicinity.

Thoughtful, the captain of the Ophelia decided to go back to his ship and to stay there. He would get his medic-AI do a thorough check-up of the crew, just to be on the clear.

"Hey! Tarr!" His second, Gonzales, jack-of-all-trades, master of none—smuggler figuring high in his list of former activities—looked frantic. Quite a surprising fact, considering his usual impassibility, Tarrou thought, starting to feel uncomfortable. Something had happened.

"We got a problem with in the 6th. Cargo's disappearing!"
The captain felt suddenly fear. What with the quarantine, and now the rocks disappearing? The Wabak? No one ever saw it, he thought. It was supposed to be a legend to keep people out of this forgotten hell on the outskirt of space.

Gonzales, grim face, silently pointed at a screen on the deck. A rat like giant beast was in the middle of bay 6th, munching on some rocks...