Chapter 1

Wiping the sleep from his eyes he stepped across the threshold, past the blast doors and onto the bridge ... well, at least what he called the bridge. He was greeted by the first officer waving one of her four tentacle-like arms in his direction as he made his way to the science station.

“Good morning Carl. No need to salute...” she gurgled, turning several eyes in his direction.

Stopping and turning, Carl remembered the proper salute and crossed both arms near his chest, hands flat and head down. “Ahh ... permission to enter the Ferdan?” he asked sheepishly, eyes looking up at First Officer Pooz.

“We don’t much stand on regulations aboard such a small vessel as this one Carl, but yes, please do come aboard.” Uncomfortably for Carl, two of the four eyes looking in his direction gave him a down and up sweep as she pivoted the command stool to face him. Bromorians were, for lack of a better description, human-sized cephalopods jammed together with a giant hairless spider ... the squid part being the head and upper body with four thick, strong tentacle arms, and the bottom half looking like the thorax of a spider with four, almost crablike legs.

“Is that a roll of Galactic Credits in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she asked, all eight eyes now roving across his body.

Disconcerting as it was having all eight of her eyes independently moving about taking in every inch of him, her question caught him off guard. Every species aboard the survey ship was working hard to make him feel comfortable as the newest member of the crew, but for the most part, none had totally figured out how to properly joke in ‘Earthian’ English yet. Confident he was not sporting any morning wood but curious as more and more of her eyes began focusing on his groin region, he dropped his salute and glanced down. Sure enough, there was a healthy bulge ... in fact, a rather large Stromboli-shaped bulge that continued down one leg of his pajamalike uniform to just past his knee!

Carl was not small by human standards, in fact he was quite happy to be slightly above average, but never had his penis been eight inches in circumference and more than eighteen inches long. He knew he should have felt panicked by the sight, but the fact that he didn’t feel any different, and this was by far not the strangest thing he had seen since he was ‘recruited’ two months ago, he felt slightly detached from his fear.

“Thanks for asking Pooz, but only a very small percentage of human males grow something of this size and I am certainly not one of those ... so,” he added, turning back to the still open hatch, “I think I should go see the doctor, because unless I somehow became part horse during the night, I may be in trouble.”

“What a shame,” she burbled, swiveling the stool back to face the main holographic display, “I’ll let the Med-bay know you are on the way,” she said cheerily, delicately touching two screens in front of her. “Ah yes, Drallix has finished retuning the waste recyclers and he is already there. He knows you are on the way.”

Striding into the main passageway behind the bridge, Carl turned left and followed the gently curving corridor. The main passageway on the ship was a large circle, the bridge residing in the precise center of the vessel. All compartments for crew were off this ring, and the two additional rings further out were dedicated to processes or items that required increasingly less shielding. The outermost ring was packed with sensors of all different shapes and sizes and on the bottom of the ship was the anti-gravity drive system.

Carl chuckled when he learned that this particular configuration of ‘scout’ or ‘survey’ vessel, which was what any human would recognize as the typical alien ‘flying saucer’, was in fact manufactured by one of the giant space conglomerates based near Alpha Centuri and was so versatile for in-system exploration, that just about every species in the known galaxy used them. The anti-gravity drive systems they employed were tremendously efficient and highly stealthy for operating within a star’s gravity, but pure garbage for interstellar travel because they required close (in a galactic sense) proximity to some large gravity source to ‘push’ against.

As such, Earth was not visited just by the little green men, or ‘Trumaashas’ he’d come to learn, but by just under fifty different species including the Bromorians, Sycurians, Tenuvians, Bullmarians and Cretelians to name just a few. So many in fact, that the Galactic Council had put restrictions on visiting the Dunkar system (their name for our little solar system) as they determined Dunkarians - or ‘who-mans’ as they thought we liked to call ourselves - were far too ‘primitive’ to join the galactic community just yet. So, their version of the U.N. created an intergalactic team representing all races to study Dunkar and report their findings to everyone.

Problem is, while we blindly share everything about ourselves with the rest of the galaxy ... he chuckled at the sheer amount of data the sensitive sensors aboard the ship recorded every millisecond of the day from the emissions radiating from Earth – ‘if Big Brother found out that Big Daddy was floating out here they’d shit’ he thought - it lit their damn sensors up like the sun in a dark room. But the aliens’ computer systems and best experts were having real problems understanding exactly what was going on and what it all meant. They could translate, quantify, study and watch behaviors, but so much of it was contradictory, confusing or just plain crazy that they determined they needed expert help. Yup, that is where good ole Carl came in.

“Hey Doc, you got a second?” Carl asked, stepping into the Med Bay. Looking around, he realized he was alone. Turning, he pressed the panel by the hatch and said “Ferdan.” The screen beeped at him, acknowledging the connection was established with the bridge. “Hey Pooz, I thought you said that Drallix was already in the Med Bay ... did he leave again?”

“Negative Carl. The ship is registering his transponder in the Med Bay.”

Looking back around the clean white room, he replied “Nope. Not here.”

“Did you look under the assessment table?” came the gurgled retort.

Carl sighed at the insinuation but found to his chagrin that his eyes reflexively flicked to the table despite his knowing that Drallix wasn’t there. “It’s transparent Pooz. You know, I may only have two eyes, but they are fully functional.”

“Who-mans are so easily offended...” Carl could swear he could hear Booz pouting ... but shivered trying to visualize just what that might look like.

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, Carl wondered once more why the aliens had chosen to snatch him when they had billions of other humans from which to choose. “I’m not offended Pooz, I’m just saying he is not in the Med-bay.”

“Did you look in the tall storage compartment on the left bulkhead?”

Carl paused and looked at the far wall with not a little confusion. “Why would I look in a storage locker for the Doc?”

“He sometimes takes a brief quietude in there...” came the matter-of-fact reply.

“You must be joking...”

“Why must I be joking Carl? He is a Cretelian and they prefer the dark. It is absolutely dark in the storage compartment and he is required to be in the Med Bay during his duty period when not on duty elsewhere or off duty rolls – as it states in section two, glaraph four of the Galactic Commission Manual.”

Carl berated himself for being surprised. He worked hard to start expecting the unexpected when dealing with the behaviors and customs of so many different aliens but still at times found his ‘natural’ human expectations challenging his ability to handle all of his experiences. “OK ... I’ll check. Signing off” he said, hunting for the right symbol on the screen and touching it.

“What will you be writing Carl? I’m not sure...” was all he heard before the transmission was cut.

With a sigh, he turned back to the room and approached the tall storage locker on the bulkhead and was about to press his finger to the small square pad - a great little piece of tech that served as a handle, lock and log all in one - but thought better of it after a short pause ... and knocked.

Feeling a bit foolish he said loudly “Uh, Doc? If you’re in there, I need your help” and stepped back.

For just a moment he thought Pooz was putting one over on him ... again ... and then the pad beeped, and the locker opened as if of its own volition.

Now, if you’re not ready for it, like the first time Carl met a Cretelian, most any human would just about shit themselves upon seeing one. Cretelians are the spitting image of the Nosferatu from the 1922 black and white film of the same name. Very humanoid looking but with pale white almost translucent skin, a squat kinda’ bulbous head, extra-long fingers with sharp nails on the end; thick dark eyebrows, beady human-like eyes, fangs and giant pointy elf ears ... and best of all, they literally drink blood for nourishment. In a nutshell ... every human’s nightmare vision of a vampire! And here was one, wedged into a seemingly far too small space.

“Ahhhh, Carl! Vat brings you to ze Med Bay?” Drillax asked as he seemed to ‘pour’ himself out of the locker as if he had no bones before reshaping into his true form with an odd ‘shaking’ movement. Carl called it ‘restructuring’ as the Cretelians seemed to be able to dislocate all their joints and ‘bones’ (they were more cartilage like a shark and therefore semi flexible) so they could fit in tight spaces. It seemed the vampire myths had it right and they were highly sensitive to solar radiation and could jam themselves into very small dark spaces. Not to mention, Carl thought, it sure would come in handy to get to someone who thought they were safe hiding somewhere where there was a ‘too small’ opening that could serve as a way in for a hungry blood sucker.

“Well Doc, I just woke up and headed to the bridge and Pooz noticed this,” he said gesturing with both hands to the tumescent bulge running down his right pant leg.

Looking down at Carl’s ‘problem’ as he straightened his uniform, Drillax raised an eyebrow. “It looks like Pooz’s advances have finally von you over Carl, I am happy for you both ... and your endowment is quite above average for your race I see,” he added appraisingly. “But, I can deduce from your being here that zhis size is not normal. Hmm, being in zhis state of semi arousal doesn’t bother you?”

“Actually Doc, that’s the weird thing. Not only did I not notice it, but I can’t really feel anything in that area at all.”

“Vell, let’s take a look...” he said and closed his eyes.

“Ah ... do you want me to drop trou or... ?”

“No. Zhat von’t be necessary,” he said, opening now totally red eyes. The whites of his eyes and their black pupils were gone, and the entirety of eyes were just as blood red as his irises normally were. Carl watched as the Doctor looked down at his crotch felt a bit uneasy when Drillax’s nostril’s flared and his eyebrow twitched before he closed his eyes again.

Taking a deep breath, Drillax opened his once again normal eyes and looking at Carl, proclaimed “I’ve got good news and bad news...”

“Hang on Drillax ... this is all new to me here ... you want to explain what is going on with your eyes please?” Carl wasn’t sure, but he had felt like a pending meal for a brief moment.

“Don’t you vant your prognosis ... ahh, of course ... your ‘vampire’ myths. Yes, you see, we Cretellians have adapted over the millennia to be able to shift our eyes over to see in ze ... I believe you call it infra-red spectrum ... all the better to see you with my pretty ... Blah! Blah!” he added, holding his hands like claws in front of his face and showing his fangs in an exaggerated fashion. After posing for dramatic effect, he put his hands down and continued. “But seriously, you’ve got a problem. From vhat I can see, the good news is that your penis is not swelling and is not the cause of the ‘engorgement’ in your pants.”

“OK ... so what is the bad news”

“Vell, it looks like two Trillaxian Blood Vorms have attached zhemselves to your leg and are feeding off your femoral artery.”

“Wait ... you’re saying there are two fucking giant blood sucking worms attached to my leg!” Carl yelled, pulling open his uniform pants, yanking out the waistband of his boxer shorts and looking down. “Holy fuck that thing is huge!”

He was dumbfounded. Attached to his upper thigh, just to the right of his scrotum, was a giant, bulbous grey worm with what looked like jet-black claws embedded into his flesh. Drillax was talking but Carl didn’t hear what he was saying, he was just too shocked watching the grey thing pulse and pump blood from his body. Worse yet, there was another one under the first, not 4 inches down his leg! Carl felt someone grab his arm and he look up.

“ ... I said, ve need to start treating you as soon as possible Carl. By their size, I’d say zhey’ve been attached to you for at least eight to twelve din. Zhey start off no bigger than your little finger, so, I’d say you’ve lost a good deal of blood.”

Carl was still figuring out the odd thirty-two-hour standard galactic day or ‘vel’ and its twenty ‘din’ or hours because each ‘din’ was 1.6 earth hours long and he just wasn’t that good at doing math in his head. As a result, he’d just worked to get into the ships schedule and keep up with everyone else. After a few weeks of difficultly, he and his body had adjusted to the long days with the help of a siesta after the mid-day meal.

“So you’re telling me I somehow picked these things up half a day, crap ... half a vel ago and it’s been eating me ever since? How come I didn’t feel anything?”

“Wery good question,” Drillax said, grinning; excited to share some of his knowledge.

Carl still found the sight of a Cretelian smiling to be creepy, as it revealed the alien’s two obscenely long and sharp looking hollow fangs. ‘Figures that a race of space faring vampires would love to talk about blood sucking worms. Must be a professional courtesy,’ he thought.

Drillax continued, unperturbed by the change in Carl’s heart rate and smell ... he was after all a Dunkarian ‘who-man’ having a ‘bad experience’ with no innate natural ability to regulate his autonomic bodily functions.

“Ze Trillaxian blood vorm secretes a nerve agent to disable all signals from ze area surrounding vhere its head and mouz parts penetrate ze host and a powerful hallucinogen to disorient and keep docile its victim until it has been exsanguinated. Actually, I’m shocked zat you are able to function at all. Ze vorms’ urine is highly prized by galactic interrogators as zhere hasn’t been a species yet found zat can resist its effects. Ve must study zis and report it to the Galactic Council...”

“Wait! Back the fuck up ... did you just tell me that not only will these things suck out all my blood, but they are pissing in me at the same time!?!?” he yelled, pulling out his waistband again to look at the giant grey space leeches munching on his leg. Carl realized he was shouting and considered briefly if he should tone down his response, but rapidly came to the conclusion that it did seem appropriate under the circumstances.

“Doc, you gotta get these things off my leg now!” he said. Reaching down to grab it, his hand was intercepted before it made it into his pants. Space vampires were damn fast too!

“Zhat vould be very unvise, Carl. Forcibly remowing zhe vorm makes it go into vat you Earzians vould call ‘defense mode’ and it detaches its ‘stomach,’ or ze long grey portion of its body, and burrows ze rest of itself deep into ze host’s body as fast as it can. Ze host rarely survives. Trying to burn or freeze it off also leads to ze same outcome.”

“OK ... so how do we get these things off my leg?”

“Ve simply vait until zey drop off,” the doctor stated mater-of-factly.

“So, we just wait until they have sucked me dry and I’m dead. Sounds like a great plan Doc!”

“I am relived you have taken zis news so vell, Carl. I had been vorried you might not,” he said, turning and opening a small compartment on the wall.

“Drillax, you and Pooz obviously have both still not caught on to sarcasm yet!” he deadpanned. “No wonder you all haven’t figured out humans!” he added under his breath, looking at the ceiling in exasperations. Sighing, he continued “You can’t always take what we Earthians say at face value ... I’m actually NOT ok with the idea of being sucked dry like a Capri-Sun pouch and dying just to get these worms off of me. There had to be some other way!”

Turning around again with what looked like a bottle of glowing liquid, Drillax looked puzzled. “You vill not die Carl. You see, ve’ll keep you alive by replacing you blood vis Cortat,” he said, holding up the blue bottle. “And it will keep all your cells alive under a stasis field until ze vorms has consumed all of your blood and fall off.” Turning back around and adjusting the clear table, Carl could have sworn he heard the doctor mutter ‘ ... and ve can sell ze vorms for a fortune.’

“Doc, you and I have only known each other for a very short while, but I’ve come to like you, despite the myths of my world. Did you just say that you were going to sell worms full of my blood ‘for a fortune’?”

Looking a bit like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Drillax turned back to Carl and said sheepishly “Ze vorms, vhen fully engorged are considered a delicacy by my people and several other species and zherefore are vorth a small fortune.”

Curiosity fully peaked, Carl ignored the pulsing worms on his leg and asked, “How much do you consider a small fortune Drillax, because if it’s my blood, they’re my vorms ... dammit, now you’ve got me saying it!” Carl was an official member of the crew ... well junior member as most species considered humans to be substandard in the just about every way ... and despite being compensated at an ‘appropriate rate for his position’ as one of the ship’s Dunkarian analysts, he was still the poorest member of the crew. Now that he was aware of the greater galactic community, Carl has aspirations and they didn’t include a lifetime position as an analyst on a scout ship.

Looking up at the ceiling for a moment while doing some calculations in his head, Drillax replied “Enough to buy a brand-new version of zhis ship ... fully loaded.”

‘Holy Crap!’ Carl thought. “That much for two worms?” he asked, shocked.

Obviously disappointed at losing sole ownership of this find, Drillax was quiet and looked down at his hands, which he rubbed in a way that suggested to Carl that the Cretelian was nervous. Quietly came the one-word answer “ ... each.”

“Holy Shit! That is a hell of a silver lining to this whole mess Drillax!” Carl was pumped! Other than getting free room and board, he was only getting paid as much as a low-level researcher on this type of expedition, and that wasn’t much. ‘Not that I get off this ship often enough to do any shopping ... but I really can’t afford anything other than the rudimentary basics.’

Looking up at the Doctor, Carl realized that he too was not getting paid very much for this mission ... the Galactic U.N. didn’t pay Doctors very well either. The U.N.’s focus on employing technology had made all personnel other than leadership and senior technical positions rather cheap and easily replaceable so no one really wanted to work for them if they could find work elsewhere. The pay was so bad in fact, that Carl had discovered that Drillax had to serve double duty as the Chief Sanitation Engineer to make enough to support his family back home.