When Grace confirmed through the cameras that the crumpled form on the radar was, in fact, organic animal matter, he brought it aboard thinking they would be examining a corpse. Instead, as soon as the doors closed and pressurized air flooded the chamber, the thing curled up in the fetal position arched its back in the opposite direction and let out a blood-curdling shriek.

This occurred mere minutes ago, and now Grace was forced to choose between life and death for this creature– and possibly Rocky and himself– while being yelled at by the being, the computers, and Rocky.

“Danger! Not dead! Danger! Not dead!” Rocky’s mechanical voice proclaimed, his natural Eridian voice high and shrill like a siren.

“Yeah, what’s your big idea then?” Grace matched his tone as he scrolled through a list of readouts. Radiation levels were decreasing inside the airlock, so at least there’s one positive. Their patient doesn’t seem to be adding any new contaminants to their controlled atmosphere, either. No, the main thing keeping that door closed is the fact that this creature survived in the vacuum of space– oh yeah, and all the blood.

“Eject! Eject smelly space zombie!”

Rocky had learned the word “zombie” after a Halloween movie marathon. He hadn’t gotten to use the word much since then, so he said the term with extra flourish.

A thump came from the airlock, causing the friends to jump. A red hand pressed to the window before streaking blood down the glass to the sill. After he recovered from the initial shock, the sight of a patently human hand had a different effect on Grace: hope.

“I’m going to try something else first.”

Swivelling his chair to another bank of monitors, he opened the controls for contagion protocols. He tapped on the airlock icon on the provided map, then found the decontamination nozzle slider and ramped it all the way up. Transferring the controls to his handheld, he hopped out of his chair and over Rocky to the airlock.

“Friend Grace stay! Not safe!”

“I’m not going in, buddy,” he said in a hushed tone as he looked through the window, trying to find the humanoid’s face. His gaze followed the fingers still gripping the window ledge (definitely human, Grace thought when he noticed the square fingernails at the tips) down an arm covered in lacerations and what looked to be boils before finding the head. It was covered with a thick black mat of something, maybe hair. Grace gasped when he noticed the dark, red-rimmed eye glaring back at him. Only one eye as far as he could see, but locking gazes with another sentient being after over a decade still brought a lump to Grace’s throat.

He swallowed it away before calling through the glass, “Hi, um, I’m Ryland, Ryland Grace…”

The person on the other side of the door inhaled sharply, then his whole body convulsed and he lost his grip on the sill.

“Somehow not the worst introduction I’ve had,” Grace muttered, waiting for the seizing to stop.

“Monster speak Terran question?” Rocky offered. Though he obviously didn’t like what was happening, he was willing to go with his friend on this, which Grace vastly appreciated.

“Right, good question.”

The man had collapsed into a corner, upright as far as Grace could tell.

“Umm, can you understand me? Nod if you know what I’m saying.”

He waited with bated breath: they really did not have enough time to figure out another translation system, especially since their guest was barely communicative as it was. Grace couldn’t withhold a fist pump when the ruined man’s head bobbed slowly but deliberately.

“Yes! OK, I’m going to try to decontaminate the airlock you’re in. It’s going to spray a bunch of chemicals to kill diseases. Usually the person in there is protected by a suit, but–” but what? There’s not time? That it looks like the disease is in him, based on the boils on his skin?-- “On my mark, I need you to hold your breath and close your eyes. Got that?”

Another nod.

“Alright, on three. I mean, I’ll count to three and press the button on three. OK?”

The man’s head lolled to the side.

“Monster gets it.” Rocky said, also impatient.

Grace rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Apparently he was the only one who valued good communication around here, especially since a mistake could result in death, or at least horrible pain. “One! Two!” He poised his finger over the “commence” button. “Three!”

Jets ringing the airlock turned on simultaneously, spraying at the velocity and volume of a high-pressure water hose. The force rolled the man on his side, one arm raising to bracket his head. The antibacterial, slightly corrosive liquid turned red as it pulled the blood off of him and dragged it into the drainage grates. Only a few seconds passed before the screaming began again, an inhuman shrieking that reverberated through the walls and scraped against Grace's eardrums in coarse waves. Even Rocky, who couldn’t hear in the traditional sense, backed away, his legs scrambling in agitation.

Grace slammed his palm on the “end” button; the straight streams of disinfectant turned to bows, then dribbles as the form in the center of the airlock floor trembled. With the worst of the blood washed away, Grace could see tanned skin, white pustules, scraps of dark clothing and, yes, hair. The arm gradually came down, and the face tilted back. Grace gritted his teeth when he saw the dead eye, the fangs. This person might not be human after all, and if he was– what happened to him?

“Let me take a few readings,” he stammered, breaking eye contact to nervously scroll on his handheld, “then I’ll see about opening–”

“Again.”

The voice was raw from screaming, and barely audible through the thick airlock barrier, but when Grace met his gaze again he knew he hadn’t heard wrong.

“Again?” he repeated. “You mean the decontamination? We’re lucky you’re still alive– heck, in a lot of ways– I don’t think–”

“AGAIN!” His fangs gnashed over the word, and Grace pushed the button again before he realized what he was doing. The screaming immediately resumed, but the man didn’t seize like before. Instead he stood, slowly turning in place to make sure the streams of corrosives hit every part of him. He yelped when one of the blisters burst in a spray of yellow liquid, then began scratching at the others to open them to the disinfectant. He stripped the remains of his clothing as his skin smoked from the acid bath. Grace almost forgot how dangerous the liquid was until the man staggered, a new source of blood erupting from his left shoulder. Grace shut off the faucets with a cry.

“Cheese and crackers, he’s missing an arm!”

He lunged for the airlock manual override, but Rocky got there first.

“Rocky watch!” He proclaimed as the man in the airlock slumped to the ground once more, finally unconscious. “Grace wear protection suit. Then help monster.”

Grace hadn’t put on a suit so fast since he and Rocky first met. When he returned a few minutes later, the airlock was already open with the Eridian making careful orbits around their newly anemic guest.

“Grace take monster,” Rocky said, reassured that even if the “monster” woke up, even Grace could win a fight with a heavily injured man. “Rock collect samples and finish clean.” He prodded a wet wad of clothing with a xenonite-clad foot.

Grace nodded, retching at the clumps of viscera stuck in the drainage grates.

“Thanks, bud,” he grunted as he slung the man’s one good arm over his shoulders.

“Take to Armando in dead people room!” Rocky called out. “Then lock door!”