B.Y.A. Studios All we need is a cow...

~The Package~
By: Tanner Dawson
The room was dark. It had been for some time. The only sources of light stretched from squinting window blinds and the dim, blue beacon above the door frame; that seemed to simply state, to the rest of the room, that the door was indeed closed. This cool glow did little to mute the lingering heat from the mid-day sun as it baited itself near the windowsill. The office, this had once been, was now a desert in constant dusk. Quiet and stagnant. There was no dust antiquing the decor, yet still air seeped into the colors of the room as if this moment was frozen in time. One would believe this picturesque scene to be completely lifeless, if the breathing of one small, white cat hadn't offset the crystalline silence.
Directly across from the solemn doorway sat this white cat behind a fairly simple desk. The cat's sleeves of his collared shirt were hoisted about his elbows, and his sweater vest was pulled down to cover the grease stains in his dirty work pants. Despite the cat's mild attempt to look professional, his desk screamed to the contrary. There were no papers of substance, merely a few blank ones that had little doodles scribbled about them. The stapler lay in pieces and a myriad of empty soda cans fortified the left flank of his desk. He heaved out a long sigh as his chin sunk deeper into his crossed arms and began to knock his chair legs with bare feet. Through the amber tint of his goggles, the cat's attention was loosely fixed on the doorway light as he sat daydreaming about the delivery car that lay, untouched, in the other room.
You see, he was no secretary as one might think. This bored, white cat was a mechanic. Not the best mechanic, nor a very accomplished one at that, but a mechanic who loved his job. And the only reason he was stuck behind a confining desk, and not tooling over the fine delivery car waiting in the next room, was the simple fact that budget cuts had rid this small delivery company of its original secretary. A devastatingly cheery rabbit who seemed so up in the air, it was hard to believe she kept her job for so long. The cat was merely filling in because business was so slow these days, the delivery car had been tuned and balanced, but never used. He didn't like this change of pace, but it kept him close to the car, which he had worked on for so long it was like his child. After all, it was his first job and he was reluctant to leave.
Amidst the cat's semiconscious ramblings reeling furiously in his head, he barely noticed that blue light above the doorway change to a flat yellow. And upon that, his attention was brought back by the hiss of the door as it quickly pulled itself into the wall. A large figure stood now in that doorway. His broad silhouette crisply outlined by the blinding light blasting in from the far side of the door frame. And what really caught the cat's attention was the part of the silhouette that resembled a small package tucked under his right arm.
As the figure paced briskly toward him, the cat began to make out features, as if every step it took peeled back another murky shadow, to finally reveal what it was. A camel. Adorned in his military finery. His buttons and metals finely polished. The creases in his pants sharply pressed. And as the door hissed again on its return journey, the cat met this camel's eyes. Or should I say eye. For the other was covered in a fierce patch which acted as the epicenter for the two magnificent scars that stretched from either side. In that instant, the cat knew that this camel was a space pilot. He knew this from the other eye. Even through the camel's squint, the cat could make out that it was without color or substance. A clear eye, a hollow eye. Stories would speak of such things happening to pilots that spend most of their years in the deep, dark absence of space. This in itself had stunned the cat let alone the fact that this was their first potential customer in nearly three months.
“Can I help you?” the cat hesitantly dropped from his mouth before cutting off any chance of reply with a poorly timed “sir,” that blurted out shortly after.
“Would this happen to be the headquarters for The Lonely Comet Delivery Service?” replied the camel after a brief pause. He didn't seem to care much for the decorations amidst the cats desk, for when the camel presented his question he did not meet the cats eyes. But rather drew his sight along the mess that lay between them.
“Heh, this is our only quarters sir,” said the cat with an uneasy smile, hoping that the camel would take the comment in good cheer. Also he noticed the camels unpleased air about his desk. So promptly after making his statement, he picked up his drawings and, after straightening the pages, quickly slid them into a drawer in the desk. He righted himself again with a clipboard he had retrieved, ever so slickly, from the very same drawer.
“Excellent,” the camel responded plainly. “I have a parcel that needs delivering. And I was led to believe this courier would be ideal for doing that for me.” He then raised one hand and placed the package firmly on the table as if to make sure the cat was paying full attention. “This parcel is very important. It is key that it gets to where it needs to go. Are we clear?” These last words seemed to come straight out of a military textbook.
The cat nodded violently upon the completion of the camels words. Even though the cat looked through his goggles, the unwavering glare of the camel's steely abyss of an eye seemed to grab at him from the inside. Lost in his thoughts, the cat decided to ask a question. “Ya said we were ideal, n' I was wonderin' why.” He noticed that he began to slur in his fluster and immediately began to regret saying anything.
The camel shot a brief smile before fielding the question. “Money,” began the camel. “Money is something I am sure your company is lacking. And money is something I have. You see, I have this friend. And this friend of mine needs this parcel. I have to leave in a few days. And that would not be nearly enough time to get this to him. So due to my circumstances, I am feeling generous.”
The cat decided to himself that the risk of asking any further questions could cost them the business, so he smiled and placed the clipboard in front of the camel.
“Oh,” said the camel. “This one will be off the books.” He stated that with a great deal of authority and placed two more things on top of the clipboard. “Your orders and two thousand credits to start. The rest will come on completion. Don't let me down. You would not want to.” With that he swiftly turned, a hiss of a door and a burst of light. And in the still office, the cat stared at the package.