NOVEL NEXT Chapter Twenty-Five: Mission Control
Communications Central
A warning flashes on the screen: “Large Scale Planetary Disturbance Detected. Possible loss of power in the next one-hundred and thirty-two hours.”
The computer’s systems are still updating and the message is not relayed throughout the ship as is usual procedure. A large adult Judas scrambles across the ceiling, its grotesque form reflected on the computer’s screen. Another Judas follows in the first insect’s wake. Smaller. A male.
Both Judases seek out a quiet corner where they can propagate their species and prepare for the coming generations.
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FROM: Patrick Ang, Ryan McDermott, Henry Ellis (Weyland, Yutani, and Associates); General Erik Weyland
SUBJECT: Mission Objective
MESSAGE: U.S.S. California missing. No communication in over 170 hours. Contact at Dayshadow Industries cannot be reached. Go ahead with Phase One of Project Nomad. Will keep you updated. Delete this message once you have read the information therein.
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Elsewhere in the human sphere
An unidentified man and woman are roused from their slumber by the irritating chime of an incoming message. The woman groans as her partner stretches and leaves the warmth of their bed. She waits patiently while her partner completes his important business. Secrecy is a cornerstone of their relationship. She has gotten used to it.
Moments later, the unidentified man returns to bed. He draws back the expensive covers and reclaims his former position beside his mistress. She sits up and stares down at his aged face.
"Is everything okay?" the curious mistress inquires.
The young woman studies her partner's face in the darkness. The subtle smile he wears speaks of triumph. Very few times has she seen him genuinely happy. He is happy now. She knows she will never get the full story, but even a hint would be nice.
"Everything is fine," the executive says with a wide smile. "Better than fine. I expect we'll have the rights to all of Dayshadow's current projects within thirty-six hours. Not much longer than that."
The mistress opens her mouth in surprise. Her lover has never been so forthcoming in the past. Whatever was in that message must have been pretty damn good. Her partner reaches up and draws her to him, kissing her passionately. They gaze knowingly into each other's eyes.
"It doesn't hurt having a general in your back pocket either," the mister says. "Oh...No. Make that two."
A light chuckle escapes the old execs lips and he kisses his much younger partner again. He isn't worried that she will tell what she knows. Fear doesn't factor into his daily life. She won't live to see another day. He's already made the arrangements for her very tragic shuttle accident. Better have some fun while he has the chance. After all, this is a day for celebration.
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Lab Room Twelve
Teresa returns from the lounge and drops down heavily into her chair. N-Vorl marches into the main lab, confers with one of his fellow yautja, and then heads for Lab Room Twelve as well. Dr. Boyd rolls her eyes as he appears in the doorway, arms crossed over his enormous chest.
Teresa lowers her gaze and wakes up her desktop computer. Opening the appropriate programs, she uses the stylus from her tablet to follow along with several readouts scrolling across the desktop's screen.
"Hmmm," Teresa murmurs. "I wonder..."
Teresa lowers the stylus and begins typing furiously. She is soon completely absorbed in her postulating, muttering softly as she types. She almost forgets that the hulking yautja is there.
"Bess...Master Cook Stevens...Theodore...Even a yautja soldier. I have no idea when they could have gotten a hold of him," Dr. Body utters almost inaudibly. "I'll need to find out how many were killed from their initial team."
"Four!" P'taal says beside her.
Teresa jumps at the closeness of the yautja's voice. She raises a hand to her mouth and turns to gaze at the warrior with widened eyes.
"Oh...Uh...What did you say?" Teresa gasps.
"We lost four brothers our first day aboard this ooman vessel," P'taal answers.
The yautja warrior averts his eyes and instead looks at N-Vorl. N-Vorl does not appear happy about P'taal's indulgence of the ooman female. He scowls and clicks his mandibles in fury. P'taal is nonplussed, but doesn't say another word.
"Four?" Teresa repeats. "Wow...I am sorry. Did you happen to recognize the yautja whose face the Judas was wearing? Did you know him?"
"I did not!" P'taal says emotionlessly. "The face was too malformed. It did not look like any yautja I have ever known."
P'taal decides he is finished answering questions and stalks from Lab Room Twelve. N-Vorl only minimally moves out of the other warrior's way. He stares across the room at Teresa with menacing eyes.
"That wasn't very helpful," Teresa sighs. "Oh well."
Dr. Boyd lowers her head and goes back to work. Reaching across the table, she pulls her tablet computer toward her. Opening the Notes app, Teresa uses her stylus to scribble barely legible words onto the screen. These aliens may understand English, but surely they don't understand chicken scratch. If they want what she knows, they'll have to keep her around. All of the truly valuable information will be written in her own special handwriting. Call it insurance.
A smile tugs at Teresa's lips and she glances up at N-Vorl. She is taken aback when she realizes that the sturdy yautja is not there. Her eyes narrow and she searches the room.
N-Vorl rematerializes to her left, less than three feet away. For the second time, Teresa is startled by the sudden emergence of an alien figure. She is already growing tired of this game.
"Yes. I get it!" Teresa groans.
She reclines her head back and runs a hand through her damp hair. Impatience and frustration strain her voice.
"You guys can come and go without my knowledge! That's very impressive!" Teresa nearly growls. "Guess I'd better not dream of doing anything shady. But if you want me to be more productive...You should probably stop distracting me."
N-Vorl tilts his head and sneers at Teresa. At least, she thinks it is a sneer. The big yautja may just have indigestion. Teresa frustratedly rolls her eyes and goes back to her notes. The doctor props her left elbow on the desk, and cups that side of her face with a palm. She angles her head toward the opposite wall, in an attempt to screen out any view of N-Vorl.
The bold yautja simply crosses to the other side of the room. He glowers at her from above the desk. This time, Teresa is sure he is sneering.
"Enough!" Teresa says.
Gathering her tablet and putting the large desktop in sleep mode, Teresa climbs to her feet. She shoots N-Vorl a glare of her own.
"I cannot work like this!" Teresa growls.
Teresa continues to glare at N-Vorl and presses her tablet computer to her chest.
"Do you have to be such a jerk?" Teresa hisses angrily. "We're supposed to be on the same team...Remember?"
"Only because the rest of your team is dead," N-Vorl snarls. "Were they not. We would have nothing to talk about. And if not for the intervention of others...You would be dead as well."
Teresa squints in N-Vorl's direction, not wanting to believe that a being so human in likeness could be so evil. She storms silently from her lab.
N-Vorl follows her with his eyes. His sneer grows even larger. It is better that she does not work in seclusion. Treachery is a part of every ooman. This female is no different. Satisfied, N-Vorl marches out of Lab Room Twelve.
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Teresa is still fuming when she enters the main lab. Plopping down at her usual desk, she turns on the desktop computer situated there and sets up her tablet for mirroring.
The two yautja guarding the main entrance, and the Judas tanks, turn briefly to glance in her direction. Teresa is too angry to attempt placating them with faux smiles. She lowers her head and focuses solely on her research. Within hours, they may have the beginnings of a whole new batch of captive Judases.
N-Vorl enters the lab a few moments later. He leans against the wall, directly behind Teresa. The cruel sneer has not left his face.
Teresa recognizes the sound of N-Vorl's arrival due to the noise made by the implements on his belt and leg protectors. The lumbering brute is so decked out in unnecessary bells and whistles that Teresa is not surprised the Judases were aware of him.
A yawn escapes Dr. Boyd's lips and she realizes just how little sleep she has gotten in the past few days. Coffee will have to be her saving grace. She probably won't be getting much sleep with N-Vorl hanging around. But then again, maybe she'll just have a talk with Elder Glandis. Keep N-Vorl on a short leash. He seems to both fear and despise his elder. That can only mean one thing. Whatever is between them...It's personal.
Teresa yawns a second time and exhales a loud breath. She runs a hand through her hair and braces the opposite elbow on the desk. Staring ahead at the readouts on her desktop, Dr. Boyd's eyes slowly begin to close. She is just nodding off when P'taal's soft voice wakes her. Teresa's head shoots up as if she has been caught red-handed stealing a cookie from the jar. P'taal's eyes are full of compassion and mischief.
"Have you not slept enough?" P'taal says with his own version of a smile. "I would have thought N-Vorl's sleep spray would have cured any tiredness you felt. You slept for quite some time."
Teresa's eyes narrow and she glances back at N-Vorl. The lumbering oaf still wears the same ugly sneer. Accented by a menacing half-lidded leer from his green alien eyes.
"Oh...So that's what happened," Teresa mutters. "I didn't remember falling asleep outside of the ship...Or fainting, for that matter. Nice little trick you guys have."
"It does come in handy," P'taal agrees innocently. "Especially when dealing with those we do not wish to harm. Many of your kind will fight to the death or bring attention to us by screaming. We can eliminate this by using the sleeping spray."
"By 'my kind'...Are you referring to women? To females?" Dr. Boyd inquires with a sly smile.
"Yes," P'taal says. "There are strict rules governing the amount of violence to be used against ooman females. I believe some hunters have forgotten this."
P'taal peers straight in N-Vorl's direction after the conclusion of his statement. N-Vorl only shoots P'taal a hard look. P'taal calmly lowers his voice.
"You needn't worry," P'taal says. "Not all yautja are always so angry at the world. You are here because our elder wishes it. As before, I will see you come to no harm. That is the order."
With a simple head nod, P'taal strolls away. Teresa watches him go with a puzzled expression. He and N-Vorl are as different as night and day.
Dr. Boyd chances a glance at N-Vorl. The large hunter is still leaning against the back wall. He glowers at Teresa with a look of pure hatred. Taking her ponytail holder from her wrist, Teresa slips it back into her hair and turns fully to face her desktop computer. P'taal's reassurance of her safety spurs her along.