NOVEL NEXT Chapter Nineteen: No More
Dr. Boyd glances around at the septuplet of aliens encircling her. She fights to control the overwhelming urge to run, to hide, to do anything but stand here amongst these strange creatures. Creatures, she's sure won't hesitate to kill her; should she refuse to comply with their demands.
“This is just freaking great!" Teresa laments. "Why did I even take this assignment? I'm really glad I signed on with the California, now!”
The robed humanoid loses what little is left of his patience. He steps closer to Teresa and his eyes narrow impossibly further. The salty smell of his skin wafts over her and she is reminded of childhood strolls on the beach. She stares up into the towering alien's gaze, transfixed.
“When can we expect the arrival of the other oomans?” The robed leader demands.
Dr. Boyd shoots him a confused glare and her lip curls downward.
“What other humans? From what I can tell…Between yourselves and the Judases…You’ve killed every human aboard. Well, save one. And Harold doesn’t really count because you murdered him outside of the ship,” Teresa challenges.
Teresa knows she is treading on thin ice. However, the fact that she is alive at all tells her the humanoids don’t really want her dead. They want her knowledge. Only after she has divulged all that she knows, will they even consider killing her. Or at least, she hopes that is the case.
The chest of the large humanoid, who almost stomped a mudhole through Teresa’s ribcage, rises and falls swiftly. He too is growing tired of conversation. Dr. Boyd eyes him warily.
“You oomans speak for such long periods…Only to say very little,” the leader says dryly. “When will the ooman rescue team be arriving?”
“That depends,” Teresa says. “On whether or not the California was able to get a message back to Earth before we hit atmosphere and crash landed. The ship was all but disabled not long after the Judases were let loose from containment and the others escaped. We were sabotaged. A crew member orchestrated the whole thing. I’m guessing he wouldn’t have wanted anyone telling command his dirty little plans. So he probably disabled the communication feeds. Similar to the damage he wreaked in my lab. I forgot to ask about that little detail before his head was sheared off by a Judas' forearm. Thanks to one of your guys...Who blew it to smithereens. There may not even be a rescue team. The only way I can be sure of that is to get to the communications wing—.”
Teresa points with an extended hand and arm.
“Which is all the way on that side of the ship,” Teresa says. “And my lab—.”
Teresa points in the opposite direction.
“Is on that side of the ship.” Teresa concludes. “If you’re salivating for more…Oomans to kill? You may be waiting a long time. However, if you want to be sure. Your little monster quest will have to wait. We’re going to have to make a trip to the communications wing.”
“You speak as one who is unafraid,” the humanoid leader says with a wry smile.
His mandibles open wide and then click rapidly shut. He observes Teresa with an amused expression; his manner becoming almost jovial.
“Do you not fear?” the leader inquires.
Dr. Boyd swallows the saliva collecting in her mouth and attempts to appear brave. She is positively scared as hell, but they don’t need to know that.
“I’m a scientist. Some of the things we see defy any form of rational thinking,” Teresa says. “Very few things scare me anymore.”
Teresa turns to peer at the large masked humanoid as she says this, her chin tilted in a show of defiance. He only chuffs under his mask. This brings a sly smile to Dr. Boyd’s lips. She returns her gaze forward.
“Did you manage to kill all of the Judases?” Teresa asks—fearing the answer. “Cause if not, we’re going to have an uphill battle getting to the communications wing. The last time I was there, the area was swarming with Judases. There were eighteen adults and six juveniles around the time the systems failed. But most females are actually born pregnant. Don’t ask me how. They can create living offspring within seven to ten hours. It’s been four days. Which means, a lot more have been hatched in that time. The embryo in that case your guy is holding...Is proof that they’re still evolving and reproducing. They don’t even remotely resemble the insect they came from anymore. Well, not really. And they’re a lot deadlier than their previous incarnations.”
“The Judases…Your ooman creations…Are no huge threat to us,” the robed leader says. “We only wish to know…How they are able to see through our invisibility cloak? What spectrum of vision do they possess which allows for this to be possible?”
Teresa’s brow creases and she takes a moment to think. She thinks back to the slain alien earlier in the day. How the Judas had speared it while coming for Harold. Had it been aiming at Harold? Or had it been charging the unseen alien?
“No…I don’t think they do see through your cloaking,” Teresa says confidently.
“What do you mean? Several of my hunters were slaughtered while hunting your…Judases. While in full cloak,” the leader says.
“I’ll explain,” Dr. Boyd says. “Roaches…The principle organism the Judases originate from…Are very sensitive to sound, smell, and air currents. I don’t think they did see your guys. Not in the truest sense. They heard them…Or could feel the slightest vibrations in the air and honed in on them. Maybe even smelled them. Your cloaking isn’t the problem. You need to find a way to hide your scent, and minimize your movements while in stealth mode. Of course, I'll need some time to study up on it. However, that seems to be what's going on here. The scent part…I might be able to help you with. The rest…You’re on your own. Harold was the one into martial arts and meditation. He could have helped you channel your inner alien. Or helped you obtain oneness with the ship, or something. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to murder him.”
Teresa reaches into her lab coat and retrieves Harold’s knife. The large adversarial alien chitters angrily and grabs her arm. Dr. Boyd raises her other hand to ward him off.
“Please. Don’t,” Teresa pleads. “I need to show you something.”
The robed alien growls and the adversarial alien releases Dr. Boyd’s arm. Looking around the expansive hangar, Teresa spies the body of the dead Judas. She keeps the hand without the knife raised and moves in the direction of the downed insect. She kneels beside it and repositions the knife in her hand. In a swift motion, she stabs the Judas and begins sawing at the chitinous flesh.
Yanking upward, she removes a pale organ covered with numerous bumps and ridges. Placing the organ on the ground, she cuts into it. The gooey liquid inside pours over her fingers and she resists the urge to gag. She squeezes some of the vile liquid onto her hand and smears it over her flesh and clothes. Hopefully, there will be a shower in her near future. But for now, she has a job to do. These aliens have presented her with an opportunity to test a few theories.
Teresa finishes smearing the Judas scent juices all over her body and extends the organ toward the group of aliens. She smirks knowingly.
“Do we have any volunteers?” Teresa says rhetorically.
To Dr. Boyd’s surprise, it is the adversarial alien—and the second alien which pinned her arm down—who immediately step forward. Teresa’s ego deflates.
“Great,” she whispers to herself. To the others, she tries to project more confidence.
“Fine,” Dr. Boyd says. “Rub this scent gland on every inch of yourselves. I mean, every inch. When you’re finished…We’ll head to the communications wing. If we don’t run into trouble…It shouldn’t take us more than an hour to get there and back. Seeing as how we have only minimal power…The lifts may not operate. We may even have some power disruptions along the way. We’ll have to walk. We check for any outgoing communications…And we come back here. Then, we head to my lab.”
The two aliens nod. The alien which stepped forward with the large adversarial one reluctantly takes the scent gland from Teresa’s hand. Teresa makes a point to stare at the places where his eyes are covered by his mask. After a moment, she shifts her gaze and looks over the humanoid's shoulder.
“I want to make one thing perfectly clear,” Teresa says in a firm voice. “When we complete our mission…And return to my lab…We are all equals. No more threatening behavior. We work together. Anything outside of that…And I stop cooperating. You will just have to kill me. You want monsters? I’ll help you create monsters. But those are my terms.”
The leader alien nods and his mandibles spread in what Teresa can only assume is a satisfied smile. The cordial smile on the robed alien's face alters his overly domineering appearance.
“Agreed,” he says.
Teresa, unsure if what she has signed on for is such a good idea, nods agreement as well.
“Alright, then,” Teresa says. “Off we go. But first, I’ll need my rifle and flamethrower. I’m not going anywhere unarmed."
The humanoid leader nods his head to indicate something over to his left.
"Your crude ooman weapons are over there! P'taal will return them to you." the robed humanoid explains.
Teresa turns to see the alien which had held down her arm step forward. He moves to retrieve her weapons. So, his name is P'taal. Nice to know.
"I am Elder Glandis, leader of this scientific exploration. And N-Vorl..." Elder Glandis says, while nodding his head towards the massive adversarial alien, "You already know."
Elder Glandis' smile morphs into what Dr. Boyd can only describe as a conniving grin. He goes from looking like jolly Saint Nick to Krampus in zero to five seconds. Teresa's chest clenches as N-Vorl steps behind her. She swallows down a lump in her throat.
"Nice to know," she says aloud. To no one in particular.