Corona glanced back at Stanley and told him to stay with Sarah. “Don’t let Sarah see this no matter what.” She walked over to where that process was taking place.
A horrified Corona watched as a fully-developed wiggling little one with a facial deformity was the robot’s next target. Its eyeband briefly connected with Corona’s gaze before being pulled from the hook. The bundle was covered and in the robot’s crushing grip, the remains were placed on the ever-moving belt to an egress in the wall leading to the Crematory. Another tiny sigh was heard and a foggy mist gently floated upwards and was gone.
The next ten perfect specimens were permitted to pass. A bundle carrying a little one which was missing fingers was yanked from the line and given the same treatment as the deformed others. If there was a perceived difference from one of the developing beings to the standard for perfection, it was pulled from its place on the track, destroyed, and placed onto the belt for disposal.
“Collective uniformity and perfection, not individuality,” Corona whispered.
While those disposed of were few in numbers, witnessing such an act left Corona drained.
She backed up to a staging area where perfect, fully developed little ones were gently removed from the track by a robotic arm. A few of them seemed aware of her presence and tried to communicate with thoughts and gestures. Corona’s veil kept that from happening.
Each of the specimens, cord, placenta and all, was placed in an individually marked bin. That bin was swung onto a belt leading through an opening to a back room.
The next area of the track was where tiny cells were placed into a membrane enhanced with maturation hormones. The growing process started all over again. A smooth, purposeful yet rigid production, with no emotional interaction from a living being, processed the young ones from beginning to end. Inflexible, consistent eugenics.
Corona tried to understand everything she was seeing, but it was too much drama for her to process. She switched her focus to a floating communication board which appeared to be the control panel of the line.
A disembodied, robotic, eight-fingered hand was monitoring the board data, occasionally providing input through touching the screen. Fingers pressed on a flashing board panel and new membranes flowed out from a sideline. Fresh cells were pulled from stock in front and injected into the bundles. The new batch took their place in the looping track.
Corona became distracted by the rapidly developing new group of little ones. She followed them as they moved on the overhead line and realized as their cells divided, this group were not In Situs little ones, they were something else.
Corona paced back and forth as the zygotes became fetuses, transitioning from one human developmental stage into another. Wisps of blonde hair sprouted from perfectly shaped heads. Dainty arms and legs wiggled as the newborn peered out through bright blue eyes. There was something familiar about them so Corona got closer to the line.
It was then she understood.
Parading slowly before her for inspection were tiny baby Coronas. They looked much as the newborn Corona pictured in her baby album. She raced up and down the track, watching her miniatures developing inside translucent, membranous sacks. She paused in front of them long enough to see them watching her, recognizing their benefactress.
Corona was glad her veil remained lowered.
Emanating from the sacks were overwhelming attempts to communicate and read her thoughts. One in particular, gestured her way with tiny fingers reaching out to her.
When they reached the end of the line, each perfect one was pulled by a robotic arm and placed in its own bin to be sent to a back room. A couple of the closest ones had thready vines extending from their nasal passages. Two of the others had craniums smaller than normal. Those flawed babies were taken down, covered and placed on the same belt as the other rejects. Corona heard their sighs and watched a mist rise from each of their bundles, going upward and out.
She began to feel sick. This is exactly what she’d feared. Someone used the cells taken from her arm to make more humans like her. She perceived they were attempting to create humans with even more gifts than she possessed. Flora promised they wouldn’t do that. They assured me that wouldn’t happen. It was then Corona remembered that Flora only promised they wouldn’t cause Corona to be pregnant with a little one.
She hurried to the seats near the wall where her friends were.
Sarah and Stanley were huddled together, still not looking at the line.
“Are you two all right?” Corona asked. She touched the pulsating area of her arm from where the cells had been scraped and looked back at the rotating line.
Sarah looked unhappy. Her eyes were fixed on the wall ahead. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. “What’s going on over there?”
Stanley turned his head to look at Corona. He had one arm about Sarah in an effort to comfort both her and himself. “I wanta’ know, too. What is this place? Tell us.”
“We’re getting out of here,” Corona said. She was feeling sorry for her friends and also for the little deformed ones who were pulled from the line and destroyed. Her heart was sad. Compassion for them welled up inside her. Although she didn’t know how to do it, she wanted to stop the suffering of the imperfect ones. She contemplated ways of saving them. For her, the brutality of the Ward was inexcusable.
She indicated to Stanley and Sarah she was ready to go.
Behind some equipment, the orange eyeband creature watched Corona. Having experienced the judgments and cruelty of the Ward first hand, it was touched by her compassion for the bundled innocents - especially the deformed ones. He was evolving in his judgment of her.
Sarah and Stanley stared at Corona.
“Are you all right?” Corona repeated.
“I’m not all right,” Sarah said. “I’m scared and I want to go home. I didn’t want to come here in the first place, remember? I should’ve stayed in your bedroom.”
“Me, too,” Stanley said. “We’ve been here too long. I think we should get out of here before we get caught.”
“It’s a little too late for that,” a voice from one of the darker recesses informed them.
Chapter Twenty Five
At the Prison Camp
Corona felt cramped and lonely. The walls of her prison were soft and spongy and she began to tear at them, thinking she could release herself. The more Corona dug at the cage, the faster it would repair where the damage was done. The torn particles were sucked into an overhead filter.
Corona finally gave up and sat down on the cot to think. How could I have been so foolish as to believe I’d get away with coming here without In Situ help? My family will be worried and wondering what happened to me.
She concentrated on transmitting an SOS to Flora and Fancy but sensed her failure in getting a message out. Then, thinking more clearly, she remembered. Fancy was one of the bad ones. She wants us dead. We heard her. Corona felt vulnerable and kept her veil lowered so her thoughts wouldn’t be read.
“Corona,” Stanley’s voice called from the adjacent pod. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?” He was feeling light-headed from what happened at the Ward and his encounter with their captors. Whatever had been used to subdue them was causing him to suffer a hangover. His head was thumping and his stomach rumbled and roiled queasily.
“Stanley. I’m ok. Are you? And where’s Sarah?”
“I’m okay,” Stanley said. “Just a nasty headache. Sarah, can you hear us?” he called out.
Nothing.
“Sarah,” Corona called loudly. “Can you hear us? Are you all right? Answer me.” Her head was hurting, too, and talking made it worse.
A whimper came from the pod on the other side of Stanley.
Corona strained to look through the mesh covering the front cell opening. Although she tried her best, she could only see straight ahead. “Is that you, Sarah?” Corona said. “Answer me quickly if it is. We don’t know how much longer we’ll be alone.”
“It’s me,
” Sarah said, rocking back and forth “My head hurts so much I can hardly stand it. And I think I’m going to be sick. What happened?” She vomited stomach contents which were pulled up into the ceiling waste disposal.
“We were discovered and put in cells,” Corona said. “I’m not sure how they made us unconscious, but we were all asleep for awhile. Are you ok? Did I just hear you getting sick?”
“I threw up,” Sarah said, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Something in the ceiling pulled it up into the air and it’s gone. Oh Corona, what’s going on here?”
“Try not to worry. Just lie down and rest,” Corona said. Her heart ached with the memory that the humans at the camp were all deceased and for the happenings at the Ward.
“I can’t remember anything,” Stanley said. “I bet whatever they used to knock us out also took away our memories.”
“Wait, I’m remembering more now,” Corona said. “Some of the beings found us and sprayed us with something.” She placed her fingers through the mesh covering and tried unsuccessfully to look at the other pods. Her stomach made rumbling noises.
“I remember now, too,” Stanley said. “Whatever it was they doused us with smelled terrible.”
“That’s right,” Corona said. She thought about Sarah. “Sarah, can you stand up?”
“I can stand but my head hurts. I’m going to try to sleep until it feels better.” She reclined on her cot and shivered. The pod automatically adjusted the temperature of her space. “Corona, how are we going to get out of here?” Sarah’s voice was weak.
“I’m not sure,” Corona said. “You just be still until you feel better. You, too, Stanley. We should rest until we no longer have head pain. We need to be ready to get out of here when we can. Or, when Flora or someone comes to rescue us.” She hoped that’s what would happen, but wasn’t feeling confident.
The Korsa friends reclined on their cots with their heads positioned away from the mesh openings. They drifted into a deep sleep that brought to all of them, weighty visions of the beings and death. The three had, at some level, a dreamy awareness of fear and danger. All the while, frightening images drifted dangerously close to their faces, taunting them with methods of imminent extermination. Scenes from their short lives passed before them and they relived both the good and the bad and how they’d made other people feel. They experienced the feelings of those whom they wronged and those whom they’d helped. Judging themselves, they felt sorrowful. All the scenes rotated in front of them and were done in seconds. Rest eluded them. Instead, they felt a mixture of anxiety and terror.
Corona awakened first, smelling a heavy musk of decaying lilies, sweet, with an edge of rancidity. She became concerned and quickly sat up.
Stanley and Sarah remained asleep.
Corona squinted into the dim light, attempting to find the source of the odor. Scanning the room from her spot in the hanging pod, she saw a shadowy movement and leaned in to see what color the eyeband was. It was golden. Hidden in the background behind it, an orange eyeband shimmered in a dark recessed area.
“So you’re awake now, are you?” Golden said aloud. She glided out from the shadows. “I was wondering when you’d finally wake up. For one who’s supposed to be special, you were pretty easy to catch,” she taunted. She waited for her words to sink in. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice your presence? Well, we almost didn’t except for one big mistake.” Her eyeband pulsated with power and glee. “Want to know what it was? I bet you do. It was the house membrane. You don’t know much about that, I’m sure. Flora didn’t tell you about it, did she? When the owner leaves with the membrane intact, she touches it so it recognizes her and doesn’t alarm. However, when intruders such as you enter and then exit the house without the owner’s contact, the membrane turns a different shade of color. For someone as smart as you are you didn’t know the changing color was an alarm, did you?”
She felt superior to these silly human Hybrids. Stupid creatures. Acting on impulse and emotions. “It would’ve been worse had one of you touched the membrane repeatedly. Then it would’ve given off an audible signal. We’d have gotten you right then. One of our band noticed the slight color change after you’d ridden the energy matrix. You’re a clever little one, as humans go. Not like your grandparents.” She scoffed at the memories of Linda and John Bond. More weaklings. Disgusting.
Corona was careful to keep her veil down.
Golden frowned at her inability to read Corona’s imaginings.
“What do you know about my grandparents?” Corona asked.
“Easy to catch. Just like you. Not unlike rodents or cockroaches in your world, scurrying about, not knowing what to do except their own dirty work.” She snorted. “They stayed in the same cubicles where you and your friends are now. Tried to claw their way out at first, too. After their demise, I added an extra pod in anticipation of the three of you getting here, along with any accomplices you may have enlisted to help. Your grandmother Linda was interesting and feisty in a peasant sort of way. She was in better shape than your grandfather. He’d just lie about on his cot, boringly waiting for the end; ‘Woe is me,’ that kind of thing. He monotonously repeated poetry. Blah. Blah. Blah. The only reason he stayed alive was because of the efforts of his wife.
I took them off their boat and brought them here. First try. It was so easy. All I did was pass over to their vessel, promise them a better life, a change from what they were living, free of pain, illness, and war. They were easy to trick. Oh yes, they also fell for my line about living in a peaceful environment and how their daughter would join them and life would be rosy and carefree. Lies for fools. I don’t even believe in anything I told them.” She snorted. “But those ignorant people did. We have our ignorant believers here, too. The ‘we’re the good versus those who are evil’ thing. So it only took a special tool I had which helps lower forms pass over to here.”
She observed Corona, hoping her words were defeating this insipid Hybrid. She snorted again.
“I don’t believe you,” Corona said. “My grandparents were educated and kind.”
Golden snorted louder. “Still, they were only humans like you. Of course, you’re a more-gifted Hybrid, generations advanced from them. They were Hybrids, too, you know. And their parents before them. Your mother, too. We’ve had such fun manipulating all of you. And the stupid press coverage of our intrusions with you humans is hilarious. We laugh at all of you.”
“You knew my mother?” Corona asked.
“Grace Bond,” Golden spat out. “Of course, I knew her. Uninteresting little Hybrid. Her Social Worker was one of ours. Made it look as if Grace died after you were born. Your mother was brought here, instead. Somehow she got away and her whereabouts are unknown. We don’t know where she ended up. We’ll find her eventually. We always do. Look at you. The Valers were attracted to Grace, until you started to develop in utero. Then they changed their focus to you. Grace was quite advanced in a marginal sort of way, but you were more promising than her. Your brain was capable of fundamental probability exercises and action like no other. It must have been that little extra something they added to your DNA.” Her eyeband glimmered. “What else can you do that you hide from us, Miss Corona? Huh? What else?” She glided and leaned closer to look into the girl’s eyes, a pungent odor reeking from her oral cavity.
Corona refused to back up. “You’re laboring under the delusion that I cannot separate emotion from your lying and ridicule,” Corona said. “That is a serious flaw I’ve noticed in evil beings.” She gave nothing away about her mental capabilities.
Angered, Golden snorted loudly and stomped her feet.
“And, what would the Valers want with us? I don’t get it,” Corona said. “We’re told they’re even more advanced than you are. And with an even higher-developed civilization on the other side of them, they had much they could gain without going backwards to our dimension.”
“I don’t know the whole story, really. Their In Situ contact here made all the
arrangements. All we Homelings did was capture you and bring you to this place. We were glad to be rid of you. It takes the pressure off the contact and casts suspicion on others as the problem. That way, no one will be looking for a traitor in their ranks. You’ll be handed over to the Valers. It’s out of our hands now.” She snorted, eyeband dimming as she moved forward. She pressed as close to Corona as possible and her scintillating eyeband exploded with color. “Unless of course, you want to share the list of all your many talents with me. Maybe I could strike a deal to get you out of this and find another use for you. Something less…deadly.” She kept her face to the pod so as not to miss Corona’s reply.
“Don’t tell her anything,” Stanley said from his cell. “I don’t trust her. Or any of the others either. Fancy turned on us and now we’re prisoners.” He sat near the mesh entrance to his cell, looking out at their tormentor in disgust. “Back away from her Corona.”
“Quiet,” Golden yelled. “This has nothing to do with you. You’re not part of the deal.” She extended a gnarled hand and banged on his pod. “You and your ridiculous friend Sarah are nothing.”
Stanley backed away and sat on his cot. He could hear Sarah whimpering in her space.
“You’d better retreat. I look at you and Sarah and you know what I see?” She paused and hissed, “I see more Ar…a…bi…an Des…ert sand,” drawing each word out. “I see worthless carbon and chemicals. A waste of effort and resources.” Her eyeband was as golden bright with anger as possible. Her gnarled fingers were out in front, shaking. “Now, what’s it going to be, Corona? Will you deal with me or allow yourself to be taken by the Valers?”
Golden relaxed and let the anger subside. She liked the position she was in. It was a win-win. Keep the girl, gain her talents, and eventually pass her to the Valers or let the contact sell the girl to the Valers immediately. Either way, because Golden was the one who captured Corona, she’d get something exceptional from it. Maybe even be permitted to own extra special items to make her life easier and more interesting.
WATCHING CORONA: From Our Dimension to Yours Page 20