Contaminated Cargo
MOTE Week 5, 2026
This week on MOTE, I was prompted by Becky Jones: The tiny mewling sound came from somewhere in the depths of the cargo hold.
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The Wanderer was one day into its voyage across the Pennine Gap between New Yorkshire and New Lancashire. It was time for the flight check of the cargo, to confirm that takeoff hadn’t caused anything to shift, that the containers were holding up to the rigours of space.
The Captain, Jock Stewart, and the Chief of the Cargo Decks, Lucy Alanson, headed on to the walkways above the cavernous cargo hold.
They kept themselves attached by safety cable to a rail running the full length of the hold, not that they needed it any more. The pair were well versed in operating at the one-tenth g gravity that was normal for cargo holds while cargo haulers were in vacuum, and so were in no danger of pushing off with such force that they would leap off the walkway and plummet – potentially – to the hold floor below. But better safe than sorry, and besides not clipping on was asking for trouble when a youngster needed to be instructed on safe behaviour in the holds.
From above, everything looked normal. The containers were still in their regimented order – four rows, one against the near long wall, one against the far long wall, and two in the middle, two gaps for access between the middle rows and the rows next to each wall; containers stacked five high in each row. Nothing had moved, everything seemed to be safely strapped down just in case anything unusual happened during re-entry at the other end of the trip.
Everything looked normal, and they were both about to exit the hold at the far end, unclip, and declare the flight check passed when they heard something. It was a soft, high-pitched sound, from somewhere beneath their feet.
“That is not normal. Do you know of any biologicals in the cargo manifest that might be causing that sound?”
“No, Captain. We’re not carrying any biologicals of any nature according to the manifest.”
“Pity. If we were, we’d have some place to look first. Please get your men down in the hold to find the source of that sound. When you do, send one of them to get me. You might need my authority for what comes next.”
“Yes, Captain.”
It was an hour later when the Captain was once more in the cargo hold. This time he was on an inspection lift that had raised him, the Chief of the Cargo Decks and two cargo haulers to the level of one of the containers, five from the front in Row 2, two from the deck.
“The noise has been located to this container, Captain.”
Indeed, the noise was still going, and was slightly louder down here. “Do we know what should be in this container, Chief?”
“According to the manifest, it is raw material for processing into cloth.”
“Please note this in the official log: I am authorising on my own authority as Captain of the Wanderer the opening of Cargo Container ...” he looked across and read it off from the text printed next to the container door “... 5 dash X dash 6 dash U on the grounds of suspected biological contamination of the contents.”
“So noted.” The Chief made the appropriate note in her Cargo Log. “You heard the Captain, get the door open.”
The pair of cargo haulers broke the security seal, cut off the padlock, and opened the door.
Inside was not what anyone expected to see. Rather than a neatly ordered arrangement of raw materials, the first section was a mess of woollen fragments. In the right-hand corner was what looked to be a nest. There were five eggs, the fragmentary remains of at least one more, and a small, furred, winged, cat-like creature. It was the latter that was making the sounds that had been heard outside.
“Captain, procedure requires me to tell you that biological contamination of the contents has been confirmed, and I will so note in the log.”
“Thank you for being required to tell me the obvious, Chief. Does anyone have any idea what sort of creature this is?”
“No, Captain,” came from all sides.
“Until we know what we’re dealing with, the creature is to be put in a crate, and given milk. The eggs are to be removed from the container, and should any more hatch, the resultant young is to be treated likewise.
“The container is then to be searched for more biological contamination.
“We will hunt through the records to try to determine what species of creature this is, and what we need to do to keep them alive.
“All data is to be forwarded to the customs on both New Lancashire and New Yorkshire. Hopefully by the time we reach New Trafford, we’ll have some understanding of what has been going on.”
The next day Jock was in his cabin when Lucy popped her head in. “We’ve heard back from New Yorkshire, Captain.”
“What do they say?”
“They are an experimental hybrid that is not, as yet, licenced to be exported off planet. They thank us for our diligence, and will be investigating how the eggs were smuggled onto our ship.”
“What’s the position of New Lancashire?”
“Due to contamination by unknown biologicals, the contents of the container will need to be destroyed on arrival.”
“Not unexpected. How are we for payment?”
“I doubt we’ll be paid for successful delivery, but the insurance will pay up, so we won’t be out of pocket.”
“Good. What about the kittens?”
“We won’t be permitted to offload them at New Trafford. Reading between the lines, until New Yorkshire decide that they are safe for export, no other planet will permit them to be offloaded.
“New Yorkshire have said that ‘under the circumstances’ we will be given a special licence to transport the eggs and kittens that we currently have, so we won’t get into trouble for having them on board.”
“But they must stay on board, or else.”
“Exactly, Sir.”
“Very well. Inform the rest of the crew there will be a change of plan. We will be returning to New Yorkshire after our stop at New Trafford. They have until then to determine which of these creatures they want to be ship’s pets. The rest will be off-loaded on our return to New Headingley.”
“Understood, Sir.”
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My offering this week went to Leigh Kimmel.
I invite you all to head over to MOTE and read everyone’s responses. I’m looking forwards to reading them all.

