The great beast arose from the dark sea. It had the hind legs of a hairless jackrabbit--tipped by talons--and its twisted torso throbbed, even beat, like a giant heart with vestigial vena cava pumping nothing. Its head was as a whale's, with hollow eyes and thousands of bone white teeth. It was also ethereal, an insubstantial will-o'-the-wisp. The great beast swam with webbed front feet, onward toward its goal.
Lieutenant Martin sat up in a cold sweat.
That dream again. He rubbed his temples and got out of bed. Since it was nearly time to get up anyhow, he showered, dressed, and made his way to the mess hall.
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Later that morning Lt. Martin sat down at the small, round table.
"Care if I join in?" he asked.
"Depends," said the short, stocky Sergeant Timms, "Do you have any money?"
"That's 'do you have any money, sir' to you."
"Blow me."
"This enough?" he flashed a small wad of cash.
"Sit down."
There was only one other player at the table, Petty Officer Fredericks; a tall, wiry, redheaded young man.
"Where's the Nord?" Martin asked.
"He's with Brunhilde, I hear..." Timms answered.
"That's not funny," Martin gave him the finger.
"I'm not kidding. They're both part of a group seeing the Captain right now."
"The Captain? What would they need to see him for?" Nobody liked the Captain; he creeped everyone out. One of his arms was horribly scarred and the opposite eye was milky white.
She didn't like him either.
Omigod, his blonde beauty, Sarah, had said after first meeting him,
you can't make that stuff up. He's like a giant insect; chewing away and not saying anything, just staring at you with that empty eye. What he chewed at no one knew. The Nord had a theory that he had multiple stomachs and that it was cud. It seemed plausible. Being under his command was bad enough, but now
his Sarah was meeting with the thing. At least she wasn't alone.
"Alright, pass the whiskey," Martin reached out and Fredericks handed him the bottle. He wiped the dust out of a shot glass, then filled it with the amber fluid.
"It's not even noon yet, dude," Timms said.
"I order you to go fuck yourself," Martin downed the shot and poured another.
"C'mon, it can't be that bad. What is he gonna do, spew spittle all over her?"
"I'm going to be hearing about the bastard for a month, I bet. Now are we going to play or what?"
"I'm in," came a deep, booming voice from behind him.
Martin turned around and saw the tall, broad-chested and shouldered frame of the bushy-bearded Nord. The Lieutenant took another drink.
"It's eleven in the morning," said the Nord as he sat down.
"So?" Martin said, then added, whispering, "What did that one-eyed freak want with you?" The Nord was his best friend, his only friend, really. Martin trusted him, and no one else. They had an agreement that if one of them ever got war hero cred, they would run for office together. Martin expected to be the war hero. Even if it was dangerous, it was worth it to force his way off 'guard duty' on this research ship and onto the front lines, if necessary.
Carpe diem, he often told the Nord. All this would ensure his VP wouldn't assassinate him to take his place, or betray him in some other way. Sarah always said he had trust issues...
"A promotion," the Nord answered the question. He was also Martin's only competition. But it was a friendly competition.
"He wanted a promotion?" Fredericks asked.
"No, you moron," said Timms, "He promoted John. To what, though?" he asked the Nord.
"I am now Lt. Commander Amundsen. I was really hoping for Admiral though..."
"Congratulations!" Martin exclaimed, then, "Now what does the old bastard want with Sarah?"
"He proposed," the Nord said simply.
Martin recoiled. That had to have been awkward. The Captain really was that weird.
"She said 'yes,'" the Nord added.
Martin relaxed, "Very funny." the Nord always said he was too young and naive to be an officer. He wasn't sure if he was joking or not. You could never tell with the Nord. Sarah, at least, thought he was well-qualified, if a bit arrogant. She said he was handsome, too, with his dark blond hair, deep blue eyes and strong chin... perfect for politics. "Now what does he want with her?" Martin asked.
"You'll find out soon enough, you over-protective little spaz." In his attempt to 'win' the pretty little researcher, his Sarah, the Nord had been the only worthy challenger. The big man smiled infectiously, "Now give me some of that whiskey."
The game began. Fredericks was first.
"I pray to thee, Iog-Ke'tat, bring me luck..." Fredericks rolled the dice.
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Lieutenant Martin stood in the middle of the semi-spherical glass-domed observatory. "So what's the news?" he asked her. After leaving her meeting with the Captain, Sarah had asked for Martin to meet her here.
"The Captain decided I could tell you," she pursed her pink lips.
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be promoted."
"I should have figured... to what?"
"Commander."
"Wow." It was one more step towards his life's ambition, but he couldn't get too excited; the Captain's promotees didn't have a good history. Besides, it wasn't his style to show emotion, to anyone. "And here I was railing against the psychotic bastard just about an hour ago. I don't understand why he did it, though. Or why he had you tell me; not exactly protocol."
"Maybe he thinks you're the best man for the job?" she brushed some of her straight, long blonde hair out of her face.
"Well, I am," he put on an arrogant smile, only half tongue-in-cheek, "but I never thought he'd recognize it."
"Neither did I," she laughed, "He seemed as surprised as any of us."
"What the heck's that mean?"
"Just that he looked confused."
"Weird old bastard."
"Totally," she looked out the glass dome at the stars. "It's a beautiful view."
"Not as beautiful as you."
"Stop that," she hated when he got all mushy romantic, or at least she said she did.
"You know," he said, joining her in gazing at the stars, "The inky black was always a source of wonder to me, ever since I was a small boy. Running upon the grated walkways of the wandering
Wotan, I would climb to this observatory and stare at the stars in awe. The distances were so vast, the..."
"That's bad. Besides, there's a flaw in your story. The ship is only five years old."
"Yeah, but I grew up on a research ship just like it. Now let me finish."
"Fine, I'll indulge," she grinned. "It is your day, after all."
"These days, however, I'm not a little boy any more."
"So I've noticed," she interrupted.
"Shh!" he put a finger to her lips. "As I stare out today, I'm no longer awed by the vastness before me. Space is empty. Always empty. Exceedingly empty. If only there was something out there. But that's not true, there is something out there, and it's frightening."
"That's deep," she rolled her eyes. "Oh, wait. Your dreams, you mean?" she looked concerned.
"No," he lied, "I just mean that there's something out there:
Nothing is out there, and that's the most frightening thing of all."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Yes it does."
"No it doesn--Omigod!" she clasped one hand to her mouth and nearly fell over as her knees shook.
"What...?"
She pointed. He looked.
He saw debris scattered about in front of the
Wotan; no, not debris, dead ships. A graveyard. They were floating about aimlessly in various states of disrepair. Some looked simply abandoned, while others had gaping holes in their hulls. Thousands of lives must have been lost, at the very least. But what were they all doing here, and how the heck could such a thing happen?
Martin cradled Sarah in his arms as she wept.
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"I heard you were part of the search party," Commander Martin was back in the observatory.
"Yeah," the Nord replied. "Wasn't pretty."
"What happened?"
"Ran out of fuel, food, or were hit by a bunch of asteroids. If anyone asks, that's what I told you." The Nord paused and stared into the black a moment.
"And if they don't ask?"
"Ever thought about suicide?" the Nord asked.
"What? Was it that bad?"
"No. Actually, yes, but that's not what I meant. Those ships... everyone on them must've."
"Must've what?"
"Killed themselves."
A shiver ran down Martin's spine.
"How is that possible?" he swallowed hard.
"What's worse than death?" tears were in the Nord's normally cold eyes.
"Nothing."
"Then nothing drove those folks to suicide."
"Right," Martin grimaced.
"If it comes to it, I don't want to be your VP anymore," the Nord walked away.
'Where did
that come from?' Martin wondered.
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The great beast arose from the dark sea. Noiselessly, it made its way toward... somewhere.
"Where are you going?" Martin called out.
No answer.
"What do you want?"
Nothing, came the reply.
Around the beast swirled countless skeletal figures covered in a thin layer of long-rotted skin, and each was as blank-eyed as the giant itself.
"What is your purpose?"
There is no purpose, only result."Then what is the result?"
Nothing.
Martin saw more creatures in the distance. They looked like men and stood in a circle, facing outward. They were pushing upon something. Pushing outward. Around them was a great circle and they were in its center. They were guardians. Now the great beast which arose from the sea descended upon them.
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Sarah gasped beside him. She was shivering.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I had a dream," she told him, "just like you, but there was more. I saw you and..." she recounted the dream.
"Alright," he said after a moment's pause, "try to get back to sleep, we'll talk about it some more in the morning if you want, ok?"
"Ok," she said weakly.
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"I've been having that dream, too," the Nord said.
"Really?" Martin hadn't told anyone until it became her problem, that way he wouldn't seem like a drama queen. "So have I."
"You look like it."
"What's that mean?"
"Brooding, like me."
"I suppose I am," he gave it some more thought as the big man grabbed a folder with his meaty hands.
"I have a theory," the Nord opened the folder. He shook his head solemnly. "We took some pictures on
those ships... talked to the Captain about it. Doesn't matter now," he closed the folder, "he wants to see us both. And I have a feeling he knows a lot more than either of us."
"That bald loony, he doesn't know anything."
"You're probably right, he knows nothing. But it's an order, so let's go see him now, shall we?"
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"Close your eyes," the Captain ordered the two of them. They were in the observatory again.
The Captain stared out into space and fell to his knees. "Now is the time, rise!" he commanded.
"What?" Martin said, befuddled. They were already standing.
"I knew it wouldn't work," the Captain grumbled. "It can't be created, and it certainly can't be destroyed. It will just come and go, and take everything with it. Doesn't matter anyway. I don't care. I just thought it might give a little meaning just to see it. That can come out of nothing, too, I figure."
"Sorry, sir?" said the Nord.
"You can open your damn eyes now. You won't see anything though," he laughed. "Isn't that a riot? See nothing, see everything, it's all the same. Or none of it is the same. Doesn't matter."
"I don't understand," Martin said, "What are you looking for?"
"It passed by here a while ago, you can tell that by the lucky dead. It can't have gone far yet, those bodies were fresh."
The Nord jumped on the Captain in a flash and pummeled him to the ground, then began to choke him.
"John!" Martin yelled. Christ. He was attacking the Captain. But Martin didn't try to stop him. He felt sick to his stomach. He didn't understand. What was it? But he knew what it was, didn't he? Well, not the substance of what it was, but that was subjective anyway--function or purpose? Result. That's what it had said, right?
"Stop!" the Captain shouted. "It's here. I can feel it..." the bloody-faced wretch tilted his head backward in ecstasy. The Nord obeyed and rolled off him staring out into the black.
A blur appeared far out in space before shortly coming into focus. The great beast did not notice them, nor would it have cared to, but merely continued on its path as they passed near it.
"What is it?" Martin asked.
"The end," the Captain cackled.
"Of what?"
"Everything. It will travel to the center of the universe and initiate the big crunch. Destroy the universe like it never was. Gone. Everything. Nothing left. Poof. Up in smoke. Without the smoke. Even the words to describe it, abstract though they may be, gone."
"We're going to die?" Martin asked.
"Eventually. But no, not today. The Great One will take a billion years, give or take a few, to complete its journey."
That was some relief, Martin supposed.
"And that's the ultimate joke, isn't it?" the Captain said. "It will end everything and arrest the destiny of man, such as it is, but will draw it out for a billion years!" the Captain laughed until he couldn't breathe and tears streamed down his face. "It's beautiful."
"It's horrible," Martin disagreed. "You mean if we survive another billion years and build the greatest monuments to the gods, achieve everything imaginable, it won't matter?" he unconsciously ran a finger over his new rank insignia. "It will all come crashing down like it never was? No grandchildren ten million times over to benefit from it? No one to remember it? Is that what this thing is?"
"Yes!" the Captain shouted gleefully.
"Then what's the point?"
"No point."
"Will it kill us?"
"I imagine you'll kill yourselves. Just like everyone on those other ships. That's what I plan to do." True to his word the Captain already had a knife in one hand and was testing the blade with his other. "Nice and dull!" he exclaimed. "Bon Voyage!"
"Wait!" Martin pleaded. "Why did everyone on those other ships kill themselves? I mean, h-how... how did they know?"
"Dreams, my boy!" the Captain laughed some more, hysterically. "Once you've crossed its path, you dream it, and much more vividly than you already have. Yes, I know..." he winked, "...I've seen you there. You'll see the end before it happens, and then you'll see--and feel--the nothing that follows. Empty. Hollow. Ta ta," he plunged the knife deep into his chest. "It feels... cold," he gasped, then fell down in delirium, singing, "When we’re together, when we’re together, there’s no tomorrow, there’s no tomorrow! There’s no one in the world but you and me, just you and me, you and me..."
"Damn it," the Nord said, standing up. Stunned, they turned away from the beast and left the Captain lying in a pool of his own blood.
The Nord stared Commander Martin in the eyes, "Carpe diem," he said disdainfully.
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The great beast arose from the dark sea. It had the hind legs of a hairless jackrabbit--tipped by talons--and its twisted torso throbbed, even beat, like a giant heart with vestigial vena cava pumping nothing. Its head was as a whale's, with hollow eyes and thousands of bone white teeth. It was also ethereal, an insubstantial will-o'-the-wisp. The great beast swam with webbed front feet, onward toward its goal.
It did not care. It did not have a purpose. Neither reason for being, nor a cause of being. It came from nothing and to nothing it would return, dragging all with it. Its mighty talons ripped into the guardians and its giant maw swallowed them whole. Its many acolytes swarmed them and bound them back to back. It dug into the fabric of space as the guardians watched helplessly, and tore. It ripped and pulled, curling the thin ether as it went; crunching it together like a paper ball. In and in it pulled and curled and crunched until the whole of space was wrapped neatly in a tiny mathematical point. There the beast joined all in nothing. Action, reaction. Cause, effect. Input, output. Beginning, middle, end. Result?
Fade to black.
