Camera 5

Charles stood stiffly his body knotted, a trembling hand supporting his weight over the dingy desk in the small isolated sentries office. His mind repulsed yet his eyes bound to the small screen in front of him. Was that Al - ? He asked himself, it couldn't be . . .  his mind reeled, senses impacted by the overwhelming vision that pressed itself into his reality. It couldn't be Al . . . it couldn't . . .  he was dead. Vanished six months ago while out doing repairs on the uptake manifold at the end of scour shaft 3, near the edge of the crater. It was his suit, that's for sure - and his magma axe, he always used one, but this - this  thing . . . what is it - what is going on ? Breath wheezed from the crushed bird cage of his chest, he stammered, dumb lips plying the mindless air - lurching backwards he falls into an old broken Managers chair, hands gripping for support but finding none, he stairs at the image on the screen. His stomach begins turning slowly as he realizes the appalling syncopation that his heart is beating in time to the creatures pointing, thrusting dead finger and it's wordless demand . . . as tiny silvery stars shimmer all around them, here - on this Mining outpost, far, far from home . . .