by Anna Carven
Even though the food smells like hyper-processed crap, my stomach growls. I’m starving. Gingerly, I peel off the lids of the containers and find recombinant everything. There’s some kind of brownish meat substance, a mix that could pass for mashed carrots if one was really being imaginative, and a perfectly round, recombinant egg.
None of this stuff came from the Earth itself. It’s all been grown in a lab somewhere.
It’s not my favorite, but I can deal with recombinant food. I spent twelve months on a floating asteroid mining station, after all. And I need to eat. The baby needs nutrition.
So I force myself to eat, washing everything down with a thick, milky drink that tastes a bit like soy yoghurt.
That last one wasn’t so bad, actually.
Having finished my lunch, I lay back on the bed with a full stomach. It’s started to become a little chilly in here, so I draw the blanket over myself.
There’s no holoscreen in here; no datapad, no connectivity to the Network, nothing.
If not for the faint snippets of music filtering through to me, I might be at risk of death from boredom.
With nothing else to do, I close my eyes and try to visualize my child. Although we’ve seen her on the scans, I have no idea what she’s really going to look like when she’s finally out.
Will she have red eyes, or green, or a mixture of both? Will she eventually have horns or fangs? Will her skin be human-colored or Kordolian colored or a combination of both?
I can’t wait to find out.
After some time, the doors slide open again, revealing Lorelei and an assistant; a kid who looks to be in his early twenties pushing a trolley laden with medical equipment. They’re both wearing white lab coats with the SynCorp logo embroidered on the pocket.
“Time for a check-up,” she announces. The kid pulls out a tray and starts assembling a blood-collecting device.
Lorelei switches on a bedside scanning device. “Let’s have a look. Lift up your gown.”
I give her a dark look before lifting the gown to expose my belly, leaving my lower half covered by the blanket. The harmony star is glowing gently, but again, it seems to be a darker shade of blue than before.
Lorelei stares at it, her expression full of barely disguised contempt. “What is that?”
“None of your business,” I reply.
She shrugs. “Move your hand.” She sticks a bunch of electrodes on my stomach. They’re cold and sticky.
In her hands is a monitoring device with a holoscreen. It flares to life, showing me the outline of a healthy baby. The detail it picks up is astounding.
“The hybrid is doing well,” she comments, as the kid starts to enter information into a datapad. “Development is as expected for this stage of gestation. Normal fetal heart rate. Size within normal parameters. If I didn’t know about her history, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between this fetus and a Human one.” Her eyes flick to the harmony star. “That’s an interesting tattoo,” she comments, trying again. “Or is it one of those new cosmetic implants?”
“None of your business,” I growl. I’m not in the mood to discuss Kordolian medical technology with her. They might try to steal that, too.
The kid pulls on some gloves and moves to my side. “Miss Kendricks, I’m just going to take a blood sample now. Please relax.”
“What’s this for?” I ask suspiciously.
“Blood typing,” Lorelei says. “And some extra tests they weren’t able to do at the hospital.”
“What kind of tests?”
“You’ve been intimate with an alien, Abbey.” Her nose twists slightly, as if the notion is somehow distasteful. “You could have caught a transmissible disease or be harboring antibodies we’re not familiar with on Earth.”
The kid pulls a tourniquet around my upper arm. “A little sting, now.” His hands are surprisingly gentle, but when I look up into his dark eyes, I see only the cold look of a professional.
Whatever they’re doing here, he’s totally into it; he’s blindly indoctrinated, just like Lorelei.
The blood-taker guides its needle towards my vein. There’s a sharp prick as it slides underneath my skin, withdrawing a thin red stream of blood. The kid withdraws a cartridge and inserts it into his machine for instant analysis.
I can’t hold back my curiosity any longer. “Why are you people doing this? What you’re doing here goes far beyond the boundaries of medical ethics.”
Lorelei nods. “I can understand where you’re coming from, Abbey.” She frowns. “I had a look at your background. You’re quite impressive, graduating near the top of your class with a Bachelor of Biotechnical Science from Teluria University.” She raises her eyebrows. “First-class honors, too. Add to that one year’s experience as a biological scientist in a highly sought after mining station posting. Of course, that was before Fortuna Tau was destroyed. But with that education, you should at least be able to understand basic evolutionary theory.”
I keep quiet, not entirely sure where she’s going with this.
“Survival of the fittest,” Lorelei continues. “Since the Universe was opened to us, we’ve quickly come to realize that in the grand scheme of things, we Humans aren’t the strongest or the fittest species out there. Look at your Kordolians for instance. They have superior strength, speed, hearing and night-vision. Some alien species have telepathy at their disposal. Some, dare I say it, have superior intelligence. Others, because of their unique physiology, are able to fly.”
The kid nods in agreement, transfixed by her little speech. If I didn’t know better, I might think he has a bit of a thing for the good doctor.
“Now imagine if we were able to integrate some of these evolutionary advantages into the Human genome. Our species would have a much better chance of survival in this new age. That is why your child is so critical to our research. This is the first known example of successful human-alien DNA integration. And it’s occurred naturally, outside of a lab. There’s no way we were going to let this slip through our grasp. I’m sorry, but you just happened to pick the wrong partner, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and now your child has the most valuable DNA on Earth. When it comes to the survival of the Human race, the ethics become skewed. We’re talking about our entire species here, Abbey. We must choose the greater good over the life of one individual.”
I stare at her, trying to process what she’s just told me. “You’re just stirring up a big old hornet’s nest, you know. Please let me go. As I’ve told you before, this is a really, really bad idea.” I watch the holoscreen, looking at my child, watching the pulse of her beating heart, admiring the delicate features of her beautiful face. She brings a thumb to her mouth and starts to suck on it, oblivious to our bizarre conversation.
How can they reduce such a beautiful life down to the value of its DNA?
“With time, you will come to accept that what we’re doing is right. After the baby is born, we will help with the psychological rehabilitation.” Lorelei pulls the electrodes off my stomach, and the image of my baby disappears.
“You know,” I say slowly, “you’re a bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Advocating war one minute and the survival of the Human race the next.” I shake my head sadly. “I’ll ask you one last time: please let me go.”
They both look at me with pity in their eyes, as if I’m the one who’s deluded.
As if on cue, the music starts up again; this time, it’s strings. I close my eyes and let it surround me. It really does help keep me calm in this terrible situation.
I need to stay calm until he arrives. Acting rashly now might put my baby at risk.
I incline my head. “Do you guys hear that?”
“What?”
“The music.”
Lorelei raises her eyebrows in surprise. “You can hear it? That’s interesting.” She waves her hand dismissively. “That’s Noa, your next door neighbor. From time to time, she transmit
s.”
I stare at her blankly.
“She’s a telepath. Not everyone can pick up her projections. I’m actually surprised that you can. Just ignore them. If they’re annoying you, I can have her moved to another room.”
“No,” I blurt, a little too quickly, masking my surprise. A telepath? I’d always thought telepathy was mystical bullshit, made up by certain folks who were content to cash in on their supposed ‘mind-reading’ abilities. I shake my head. “Leave her where she is. It’s not bothering me.” I pull down my gown and lie back, closing my eyes. I descend into a state of tranquil calm. It’s weird. Usually, I’d be freaking out in such a situation.
But what can I do right now? I don’t want to get sedated again.
I lay my hand on my belly, feeling at one with my child.
Don’t worry, little one. Daddy’s coming.
Tarak
I plunge into the depths of the ocean, each powerful kick sending me deeper. Beneath the wild surface, everything is serene.
The water is cold, and down here, everything is silent.
Small silver creatures swim past me in a giant cloud, parting as I move through them. As I swim deeper, I see a huge black and grey creature with a fanlike tail. It dwarfs me, propelling itself forward with powerful strokes of its broad tail. For once in my life, I feel slightly insignificant. I pause for a moment, wondering if it is going to attack, but it simply cruises past, oblivious to my presence.
Through my visor, I can see a plateau of land that rises up sharply from the dark depths. I kick my legs, fighting the powerful undersea currents that would otherwise sweep me away.
Jeral and Nythian catch up to me, a plume of bubbles rising from their breathing apparatuses. I point towards a flat grey structure rising out of the plateau.
It’s an unnatural structure, all straight angles and lines, built in the utilitarian Human fashion.
So the Humans are trying to hide underwater. Did they think a little bit of water could keep me from finding them?
We swim towards the structure, moving against the current, our movements enhanced by our nano-suits. Strapped to my back are my twin swords and a small oxygen concentrator that’s connected to a respirator. My soldiers are similarly armed and equipped, along with a cache of small explosives and several small daggers.
Even though it’s just the three of us, I am not worried. Once we find a way into the facility, the odds will be stacked against the Humans.
I study the collection of buildings, surprised that such an extensive facility exists beneath the waves. It was obviously built with one purpose in mind: to hide.
A terrible anger rips through me. If they have done anything to harm my mate or my child, I do not know what I will do. I really don’t.
I stop and hold up my hand, observing the facility from afar. Jeral and Nythian come to a halt beside me. I make a signal with my hand: wait.
We hang there for some time, until a small submersible vessel appears from an opening at the end of one of the structures.
The tubular craft rises slowly at an angle, propelled by a spinning blade at the back.
I signal for them to swim towards it as it rises. As we reach it, we latch onto the side.
Wait. Once again, I signal to them.
The craft moves upwards, drifting towards the surface. I look down the length of its long grey hull, searching for an opening. There’s a hatch at the top. I point to it and start to swim towards it, my two soldiers flanking me. The craft is drifting slowly, so we have no problem reaching the hatch.
I don’t know what material this vessel is constructed from, but it’s not Callidum. Therefore, it should be easy to break into.
As we reach the hatch, I signal Jeral to attach an explosive to it. He removes one of the small fission detonators from his belt and slaps it on the hatch.
He holds up three fingers.
We drop off to the side, sheltering behind the metal body of the submersible.
A dull thud is all we hear as the roof of the vessel blows out. Once it’s clear, we rise back up to the hatch. It has partially imploded, leaving a breach large enough to enter through. Water is being sucked in.
I enter first, dropping into the craft through a hole surrounded by twisted metal.
Water is streaming in through the hole, flooding the chamber. A red light flashes somewhere above me, and a screeching alarm goes off. My two soldiers slip in behind me. Mindful of the flooding cabin, we keep our respirators on.
Two Humans appear in our path, shock and fear twisting their features. When they see us, they yell at each other in some incomprehensible Human language.
One of them has a gun. He raises it at us, but Jeral is already behind him, twisting his arms behind his back. The man gasps and drops the gun. He screams in his language, but none of us can understand what he’s saying.
“Silence,” I snap in Universal, my voice slightly distorted by the respirator. “Take us to your captain.”
He starts to struggle. I pull out a short dagger, letting it rest in my palm. “Go now, if you want to live.”
His companion, an older, heavyset man, looks at the flooding water with trepidation. “I need to try and fix that,” he shouts, above the roar of the water. “Otherwise we’re all going to drown!”
I ignore him, dismissing him. He is unarmed, and therefore not a threat. The water is up to our ankles now. I nod towards the other Human. “Show us the way.”
The Human hesitates. A loud, low-pitched groaning sound echoes through the vessel as it begins to turn.
“Now, Human.” I stalk towards him as Jeral twists his arms, making him grunt in pain. “I’m losing patience.”
The color has drained from this man’s face. Reluctantly, he turns, having to lift his feet as we wade through water that’s now up to our mid-calves.
He leads us down a narrow corridor. At the end is a door that appears to be sealed. Water laps against it, but doesn’t seep through.
The Human glares at us defiantly. “You can’t open it,” he snarls. “It’s locked from the inside.”
“Nythian,” I nod towards my man. “Blow it.”
He pulls another detonator off his belt and sticks it to the door. We stride back down the corridor, counting to three as we duck for cover.
The sound of the explosion in these close quarters is deafening. Human screams echo from inside the room.
We return the way we came. Jeral drops the Human, as we no longer have need for him. The water has almost reached our knees now, and as we pass into the control room, the water follows us, swirling across the floor.
The incessant alarm is still going off, each blast of sound an assault on my sensitive hearing.
We’ve entered some kind of navigation chamber, which is full of panicking Humans. Several of them are frantically manipulating various controls. There is a large window at the front, revealing the serene, mysterious ocean. Silver swimming creatures dart by, oblivious to the chaos inside this small Human vessel. My attention is drawn to one man, who is standing beside a large domed frontscreen. His arm is outstretched, pointing towards the underwater facility.
He’s shouting at another man in his Human language. It looks like he’s ordering him to take the craft back to base.
The man giving the commands is dressed differently to the others. Whereas the workers wear standard looking utility uniforms, the shouting man wears a civilian suit, setting him apart from the others. I’m guessing he’s the one who holds the authority around here.
As we enter the chamber, all the Humans turn and stare at us in shock. Two males pull out guns and point them at us.
“You won’t harm us with those,” I say loudly, over the infernal alarms and the rushing water. Jeral and Nythian approach them with the intent to disarm. One of the men shoots Jeral in the chest, but the shot deflects off Jeral’s exo-armor. Jeral stops, grunts and shakes off the impact.
“Who the hell are you?” The man in the suit glares at me, his ey
es bulging in outrage. Water is pooling around his legs, but he doesn’t seem to realize it.
I loom over him, staring down into his grey eyes. “Your people have taken something that belongs to me.”
His eyes widen in fearful recognition, but he wisely says nothing.
“Tell your people to take this vessel back to the facility,” I order. He shoots me a dark look, yells something to his subordinates, then turns back to me. “You have no idea what you’re messing with, alien. Your precious little treaty with the Federation won’t stand when news of this gets out.”
The water is up to mid-thigh now. It doesn’t bother me, but the Humans are starting to become increasingly panicked.
This little Human’s arrogant tone infuriates me. He dares to speak this way when his people have taken my mate? Unable to contain myself, my hand shoots out, encircling his neck. “Where is she?” I snarl, as he grabs my arm with both hands, trying to claw at me.
“Get your fucking hand off me,” he splutters. “You have no idea who I am. I can make life very miserable for your people on Earth.”
I squeeze harder. “Where. Is. She?”
He wheezes and gasps. “She’s inside. We haven’t done anything to her. We just need the child.”
That was the wrong thing to say to me. I squeeze even harder, and the expression in his eyes finally turns to naked fear. His eyes begin to roll upwards. “Stop it!” He splutters and chokes, frantically trying to grab my arm. “You can’t do this to me. I’m the fucking president of this corporation.”
I hold him there for a moment, savoring his suffering. I want to kill him now, but I haven’t found Abbey yet, and I need these Humans to guide this vessel back to the facility.
If I kill their leader, they will panic.
So I drop him. He falls into the rising water. His suit is drenched, and he’s shaking. He glares at me with pure hatred in his eyes as we come to the edge of the underwater facility.
A large door slides open, revealing a water-filled chamber inside. It’s a pressure-lock. The vessel floats into the chamber and the external doors close slowly, sealing off the space. Once they’re shut, the water outside soon starts to drain away, leaving the vessel dry and mounted in its dock. However, the water inside the craft remains. It’s up to about chest-height now, but it’s stopped rising. The Humans all look visibly relieved.