The lights in the ship's corridor were dimmed, and the gravity plates were disabled. I floated slowly through the air without touching the floor or walls, almost as if an unseen force were pulling me forward. I didn't resist. Rather than concern I felt a sense of serene indifference. I continued forward as the corridor veered right, finally coming to a rest along a port side window. I stared through the glass at the multitude of stars beyond before noticing a boy's reflection behind me. Startled, I quickly glanced around to get a better look, but I was alone. Turning back to the window, the boy was now floating just beyond the glass in the cold vacuum. His eyes were closed, and I was struck breathless by the angelic beauty of his face. I reached forward and frantically began to pound my fist against the glass. Suddenly, the boy lifted his small hand to his face and pressed a delicate finger against his lips: "Shhh..."
I awoke with a start! My elbow jerked back and struck the wall of my cabin. "Dammit!" I yelled into the darkness, as I quickly rolled onto my back so that my other hand could soothe my stinging elbow.
That dream had been intense. The boy's face was burned into my mind, and lying here in the pitch black I could almost see it floating before my eyes. It felt so real!
I was suddenly overcome with a sense of excitement, not only due to my typical morning erection as I reached down under the covers to give it a quick squeeze, but also because of the dream itself and of the boy in particular. See, I was blessed, or possibly cursed depending on your perspective, by occasional prophetic dreams. Dreamers, as we were often called, were people with the psychic ability to experience visions while dreaming. My dreams didn't always come true. In fact, most didn't. However, every once in a while I would dream of things that would take place. Often just little details here and there, but sometimes entire dream sequences would actually come to pass.
The boy in my dream was immaculate. His short blond hair was so pale that it was almost white, lending even more of a sense of innocence to his already cherubic features. He seemed to be about nine or ten years old, but I couldn't be sure since I had only seen his face through the ship's window.
My excitement quickly shifted to panic as I realized he had been floating in the dead of space. I sat up and pulled the covers off my naked body. "Lights."
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the now illuminated cabin. I stood up and stumbled across the room to the toilet, sitting down and leaning forward so that my boner could be aimed properly into the bowl as I mustered the mental focus to piss.
"Isaac," I spoke groggily into the air. "Night report, please."
A very young boy's cheery voice erupted from the cabin's speaker. "Good morning Kyle. Did you sleep well?"
"Actually, yes I did," I replied, as a stream of urine splashed against the side of the toilet's metal bowl. "Well, almost. I knocked the shit out of my elbow when I woke up."
The little boy, who sounded no more than four years old, replied in his high voice: "Ooh, that sounds painful."
"It was. Anything to report?"
"The ship is still on course to the outer edge of the nebula. ETA is six hours at current speed. We're still too far out to conduct a thorough sensor sweep. Shall I alert you when the sensors are within range?"
I shook the last remaining drops of urine into the bowl then stood up. "Yes, please. Thanks Isaac."
"My pleasure, Kyle."
I grabbed my clothes from the nightstand and dressed, picked up my tablet, then proceeded out of my cabin and down the corridor. As I passed one of the windows I paused briefly to stare into space. This time, there were no cute angel boys or even stars to be seen. Only the faintest rainbow shimmer of astral energy was visible, sparkling against the glass, as the ship's astral drive hurled it through the void.
Sighing, I continued on my way to the cargo bay, stopping briefly in the galley to take a few bites from a nutrient bar and a couple swigs of water. I was expecting to find the drones still buzzing around as they worked to build replacement plates for the ship's hull, but the cargo bay was completely still and silent.
"What the hell?" I asked, as I began tapping menus on my tablet.
The four drones didn't respond. They each sat perched atop their charging racks. The hull plates they had been working on were strewn around the bay floor, along with scraps of metal and other debris.
I activated one of the drones and instructed it to fly down and hover in front of me. "Why didn't you guys finish building the plates?"
"Insufficient metal," replied the drone in its stiff robotic voice.
I glanced along the bay wall at the remaining stacks of metal columns that we had salvaged last week. "What do you call those?" I asked, pointing at the stacks.
"TF-330 wing support braces."
"Those should be more than sufficient," I responded impatiently.
The drone's lights blinked at me. "Negative. Metal structural integrity compromised."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath. "Are you telling me that the braces are useless?"
"Affirmative. Insufficient metal."
I stooped to inspect the partially-completed plates. "Okay, fine. Can you guys clean up the debris and move the braces to the airlock? We'll jettison them once we leave astral space."
"Affirmative." The drone and its fellows quickly began zipping around the bay, picking up the various metal scraps and carrying the support braces into the airlock.
Well damn. I had hoped to finish the plates before our arrival so that the drones could install them while we scanned for other potential salvage sites. I didn't like the idea of conducting a salvage run with a gaping hole in the ship, but there was nothing to be done about it now.
The hole had been the unfortunate consequence of a particularly randy space worm that had tried to mate with the Lightning Bolt, my ship. It had been lurking behind a junked freighter during our most recent salvage run, waiting patiently to have its way with the ship's alluring underbelly, striking just as we were making our departure. The ship's shields had not yet been brought back online, and so the worm managed to pierce a two meter gash along the hull. Fortunately, the damage didn't breach into the living spaces or anything that was particularly vital, but it was still an open wound that needed patching.
Space worms could be real fuckers sometimes. In fact, it was a space worm that had been responsible for my inheriting of the Lighting Bolt in the first place. My former captain and employer, Marcus Arrador, had been devoured by a space worm while exploring a wrecked alliance battlecruiser. The poor bastard barely had time to scream into his com before he was chomped and swallowed. Fortunately for me, I had just returned to my new ship, along with its cargo hold near to bursting with valuable salvage, and I was able to make a hasty escape.
Marcus had been a good guy. He paid me on time, helped teach me the ropes, and he had even been accepting of my love of boys after once having accidentally walked into my cabin as I was enjoying one of my juicier holovids. However, beyond his initial curiosity about my orientation, he had never really broached the subject again, but he had continued to show me respect. After his death, I took control of the Lightning Bolt. That had been three years ago, and here I am, still chugging along. I've since made some modifications, such as programming Isaac to be the ship's AI, and adding a few weapon upgrades to the ship's arsenal. However, beyond those tweaks, not much has really changed.
I left the cargo bay and went to the helm. It was dark within, illuminated only slightly by the faint kaleidoscope of colors being refracted through the helm's numerous windows. It reminded me of holiday lights from my childhood, and this was one of my favorite places on the ship during astral travel.
I sat down at the navigation terminal and pulled up the star chart of the Revlor Nebula. The hologram extended across and a meter above the terminal's flat surface. As I peered into the blue and green expanse of tiny stars of the nebula's vast cloud, my mind began to wonder back to the boy from my dream. I hadn't managed to see his eyes, but I imagined they were the same blue-green as the cloud. I had always thought that blond hair, especially light blond, was complimented so perfectly by blue or green.
The thought that the dream could be real, that I could actually meet this boy soon, made me very excited. Not in a sexual way exactly, but rather in a hopeful yet slightly nervous way. My dreams were not very reliable predictions of the future. Never knowing what was a vision and what was just a dream was a bit frustrating, and I had learned over the years not to let my hopes run wild. Despite all of my erotic dreams involving the changing rooms at the aquatic facility on Grenborne Station, for which I had a particular fetish, none of them had ever actually come true. Humans were rare enough in this sector of space, and human children were virtually nonexistent. The most--or perhaps the least--erotic thing I had thus far encountered was having the unique privilege of being able to witness a pair of ylldroxians using their half-dozen barbed tentacles to scrub each other's anal crevices in the communal showers. And trust me when I say this: boner material, it was not.
I had never quite figured out whether my prophetic dreams were guaranteed to happen or if they were simply possibilities. The whole fate versus free will thing was a bit beyond my comprehension. Therefore, assuming this dream boy was real, I didn't know if I should head back to Grenborne Station, where there was at least an infinitesimal chance of encountering a child or if should continue with my plan to scavenge for materials. Money was good at the moment, and so I didn't have any immediate need of supplies or food. And I could definitely use a break from the ship after nearly a month in the deep. Maybe I should just have the drones mine a few asteroids and take a load of raw materials back to sell, rather than searching for derelict ships to salvage. The former would be easier, safer, and faster; the later would be more lucrative, at least potentially.
"Excuse me, Kyle? Helloooo?" Isaac's voice playfully interrupted from the helm's speakers.
"Yes? Sorry Isaac," I replied, as I snapped back to reality. "What's up little buddy?"
"The ship's sensors have detected traces of kemenderic radiation along our course," said Isaac. "The radiation is highly dispersed."
Hmm. That was interesting. Kemenderic radiation was a byproduct of the rupture of kemend crystals, which were used to power a ship's astral drive. It often meant that a ship had been severely damaged or destroyed. That could mean that there was a nearby ship ripe for salvaging.
"Very nice. Let's drop into normal space and try to locate the source, but take us well past the radiation field so that we can investigate from afar. I don't want to risk an encounter with pirates or other nasties."
"Certainly," replied Isaac.
Captain Arrador had taught me that pirates will sometimes attempt to use the kemenderic radiation from a damaged ship to lure in would-be rescuers or salvagers. The good thing about the Lightning Bolt is that she is more than capable of handling most pirates, but still, why take the chance? We would pop out of astral space, perform a quick scan, and then pop back in if there's danger.
I stood up and moved to the pilot's chair. Isaac was still controlling the ship, so I just sat down and watched as the prismatic astral shimmer gave way to a billion pinpoints of stars. The blue-green cloud of the Revlor Nebula could be seen stretching across and beyond the cockpit's glass. It was quite stunning. Such cosmic sights as this never got old.
"Sensors are scanning now," chirped Isaac. "Let's see. Remnants of a large vessel are being detected across a wide area, and the field of radiation extends much further than initially guessed. It would seem that a ship was destroyed here at least several years ago. Sensors estimate 6 years according to the radiation's dispersal."
"Are any of the ship's remnants of sufficient size for salvage?" I asked.
"Yes. There are several that may be of interest."
I pressed the fingers and thumbs of both of my hands together, holding them in front of my face, and spoke in a villain's sinister voice: "Excellent."
Isaac giggled. "Kyle, shall I prep the drones?"
I held my villain's pose a moment longer before replying. "Yes, but let's take things slow. Only assign two of them to salvage work. Equip the other two with guardian loadouts and have them scout around the debris field. I want to err on the side of caution until we know what we're dealing with."
"Good thinking. I'm on it."
Over the next few hours I sat at the helm and watched as the salvage drones cut away pieces of scrap from the largest section of wreckage and carried them back to the cargo bay. The vessel was heavily damaged, likely from plasma weapons according to the sensors, but there were no markings or other indicators to help determine what kind of ship it had been or to which species or faction it had belonged. At least the guardian drones had not detected any nearby threats, so I switched one of them to help with the salvage instead.
Isaac had also been keeping me apprised of the progress. This was actually turning out to be a decent haul. Most of the scrap just consisted of common metals and other raw materials, so selling it wouldn't bring in much income, but it would be more than enough to patch the hull and top off the ship's emergency stockpiles.
"Kyle," reported Isaac. "One of the drones has discovered a portion of the vessel with an interior section that is still mostly intact."
With my interest piqued I got up from the chair. "Is there anything inside?"
Isaac sounded frustrated. "Sorry. The drone is being vague. It says that electronics have been detected. It also reports that the section is constructed of tridinum and that its laser is only cutting at 18% efficiency."
"What?!" I exclaimed. "Tell that little bastard to stop cutting! Tell the drones to get away from that section and work on something else."
I quickly walked out of the helm and down the corridor toward the mudroom. Once inside I grabbed one of the nanopacks, attached it to my waist, and turned it on. A fine mesh of nanobots expanded around my body, covering my clothing and skin in a protective membrane that would keep me safe from the vacuum of space. It was quite the handy little tool, since its bots also provided me with propulsion, illumination, fresh oxygen to breathe, and the ability to communicate with Isaac. Lastly, I grabbed one of the guillotines, my nickname for the larger cutting rifles. The smaller cutting pistols, which I called scalpels, just wouldn't do against tridinum.
"Isaac, can you hear me?"
"Yes," he answered. "You're coming through clearly."
"Good," I replied. "Open the mudroom airlock please."
The air was quickly pumped from the room, then the airlock doors pulled apart revealing the starry expanse beyond. I used hand gestures to command the bots to maneuver me away from the ship toward the wreckage. I could see two of the drones carrying a long jagged piece of scrap toward the cargo bay, which reminded me to have Isaac reassign the guardian drone to bodyguard duty. The wreckage was too small and dispersed to conceal any space worms or other large critters, but I wasn't taking any chances.
As I drew nearer I could see great scorch marks covering most of the surfaces. The tridinum section appeared to only consist of a single room, with one corner having been completely ripped away, which granted me access to the room's interior. I shined a light into the room for a better look. One wall contained a computer terminal and a soot-blackened doorway. The other walls contained shelves and cabinets, many of which were hanging open and appeared to be empty. Several of the shelves were also blackened and warped from apparent fire damage. However, it was the center of the room that drew my attention. What appeared to be some kind of pod or stasis chamber was set into the floor. It too was covered in black soot, but it did not seem to be damaged.
I completely froze. Could it be? Could it really fucking be?
"Kyle?" asked Issac in a worried tone. "Are you alright? Your heart rate just spiked."
I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. The sudden realization that this pod might contain the little boy from my dream hit me like a sledgehammer to my gut!
"Kyle! Can you hear me? Please respond."
I inhaled sharply as a chill ran through me. "Yes. Sorry. I'm still here. I'm okay."
"What happened?" asked Isaac, concerned.
I moved forward to the pod and looked down at its glass dome. Using my free hand I wiped my palm across the soot-covered surface. What I saw inside made my eyes fill with tears.
"I found him."