Chapter Eighteen: When the Choices Aren't Good
Teresa opens her eyes to a world of splitting pain. Her head feels as if it has been slammed against a wall and her midsection screams from untold injuries. As Dr. Boyd’s eyes adjust to the darkness, she realizes—with paralyzing fear—that she is back in the California’s transport hangar. But how?
“Oh no,” Teresa cries and attempts to sit up.
She is halted by a large foot slamming into her abdomen just under her ribcage. Teresa’s breath escapes in a loud ‘oof’ and she falls back hard onto the metal floor. The back of Teresa’s head hits the floor and lights dance before her eyes.
“Oh god!” she utters and tries to reach up to grab her aching head.
Another appendage pins her arm before she can move it and Dr. Boyd yelps with distress. Her distress only increases ten-fold when the bodies attached to the offending appendages finally materialize.
The inky darkness within the transport hangar is interrupted by a metallic shimmer. Seven gigantic figures, clad in metal armor and mesh netting, become clearly visible. All of the figures are masked, save for a larger humanoid adorned in a drab green-gray robe. Drab in the sense that it is lacking in vibrant color. Nothing else about the reptilian humanoid’s attire can possibly be called drab.
The robed humanoid steps closer and Teresa is able to ascertain more details about his appearance. The mesh netting covering his body is comparable to fish-netting, and slightly indents the flesh of the creature’s sinewy chest, biceps, and calves. Skulls of various shapes and sizes are secured strategically along the humanoid’s mesh bodysuit. Teresa can’t help but wonder from what kind of animals those skulls were taken. The shapes and proportions are not familiar to her. All save one. A human skull attached to the mesh above the alien's right pectoral muscle.
The robed humanoid’s face is unlike any Dr. Boyd has ever seen. Not quite ugly, but definitely intriguing. His skin is a pale greenish-yellow, with brownish spots marking the flesh here and there. His vibrant green eyes are set deep in his face, and both eyelids look as if they are painted with a dark-grey mascara. He has no nose that Teresa can discern, and his mouth is an array of small catlike teeth surrounded by loose folds of flesh. Four fierce mandibles, two on each side of his mouth, open and shut threateningly. Pointed tusks jut from the tips of his mandibles, and they make a light clicking sound when they happen to touch.
The hair on the humanoid’s head is pulled back into long black dreads, decorated with large metal beads—conjuring up images of a scurvy Earth pirate. The large prickly hairs, jutting from the edges of the creature’s hairline, dispel this fantasy of the sea. The scientist in Teresa stares at the large humanoid with awe and fascination. The rational side of her stares at him with fear and distrust.
The large foot on her chest slowly begins to reduce the oxygen in Teresa’s lungs, and she awakens from her scientific musing. She uses her free hand to grip the ankle of the humanoid pinning her to the floor. Her other arm is still pinned by the second negligibly smaller alien.
“I can’t breathe,” Teresa gasps. Anger floods her body—her voice rising in pitch. “Get off of me!”
The humanoid standing on her chest leans down and his shoulder weapon realigns. Teresa’s eyes widen. She knows, without actually being able to see them, that there are three red dots on her forehead. Teresa releases the ankle she is holding and raises the same hand in surrender.
“Please...I don’t mean you any harm! But, I can’t breathe. You have to let me up,” Teresa gasps.
Her head begins to spin and she feels close to fainting. The robed humanoid chitters loudly and the humanoid with the targeted shoulder weapon stands down. The weapon goes back to its former position and the massive creature removes his foot from Dr. Boyd’s chest. He takes a heavy step backward. The second creature also removes its foot from Teresa’s arm.
Circulation slowly returns to Teresa’s appendage and she shakes it as if to remove kinks. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Boyd exhales noisily. She glances around at the seven strange aliens. Boldly reaching out her hand to the creature that had once pinned down her arm, she beckons to it.
“Aren't you going to help me up?” Teresa inquires.
The creature looks to the robed humanoid, who nods and chitters. Reaching down, the masked humanoid grips Teresa’s hand and practically yanks her to her feet. Teresa hopes this is just a sign that it simply doesn’t realize the measure of its own strength—and not a sign of overt aggression.
“Thanks,” Dr. Boyd says with a hint of sarcasm.
She strains to see the alien's eyes through the metallic mask it wears. The spaces for the eyes are of a somewhat lighter material. Almost glasslike. The creature says nothing. Straightening her clothes, Teresa turns her attention to the robed humanoid, who is obviously in charge.
“Why are we here?” Teresa says in a loud whisper. “We can’t be here. There are things on this ship that will kill us. All of us. We need to leave.”
The large masked humanoid utters a deep growl. Even under his mask, his anger is obvious. Teresa realizes her mistake and lowers her voice, while raising a hand to signal compliance. She returns her attention to the robed alien leader.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think,” Teresa says. “But we do have to get out of here. We’re in very real danger.”
An unsettling revelation dawns on Teresa. She has not seen hide nor tail of a single colonial marine. Nor has she heard a single shot from an Orville rifle. These are the beings the marines were engaging in combat—the beings responsible for the deaths of Harold and Theodore. So who is really in danger here?
Dr. Boyd sways on her feet as the reality of what has happened hits home. The alien which helped her to stand moves forward a step, but she hurriedly shakes her head.
“I’m fine,” she says with mock enthusiasm. “Really. I’m fine.”
The robed humanoid glares at Dr. Boyd with fierce green eyes. The scowl on his face makes Teresa wish they had killed her or left her for dead. Why hadn't they?
“Why are we even here?" Teresa demands. "What do you want?”
The robed humanoid steps forward, as does another humanoid directly behind the leader. The second humanoid is carrying the leather briefcase containing the oothecae Dr. Boyd scavenged. Teresa’s eyes widen with shock.
“No,” Dr. Boyd whispers inaudibly. “Oh no.”
The robed humanoid takes another few steps in her direction. His subordinates take on rigid stances, ready to defend their leader at a second’s notice. When the robed creature speaks, it is in an eerily guttural human voice—similar to that of a ship’s computer or AI.
“You are able to create monsters?” the alien voice says.
Teresa’s mouth drops open and she stares at the humanoid leader with obvious surprise. She blinks rapidly, struggling to process what she has just observed.
“Wait! You can speak English?!” Teresa exclaims, her mouth twisting into a wide grin.
“We are familiar with ooman languages,” the robed creature agrees with very little intonation.
“Ooman? Is that what we are…To you?” Teresa asks, still not believing her luck at finding a truly intelligent humanoid race. Or rather being found by one herself.
“Yes,” the creature responds dryly.
Teresa can tell that as far as the robed humanoid is concerned, this conversation is far from productive. Dr. Boyd glances at the leather briefcase in the subordinate’s hands. A shiver courses her spine as she remembers what the adult Judas did to Bess. And what others of it's kind did to the people utilizing the crash pods. She shakes her head fervently.
“You asked about creating monsters?!” Teresa says. “Well, yes. This is a science vessel. That’s pretty much our entire purpose for being out here in space. To create things that would make most people lie awake at night. To push the boundaries of what it means to be alive. Key word being…Alive.”
Dr. Boyd pauses in her soliloquy long enough to point at the leather briefcase. She shake her head again.
“But if you think I’m going to make more of…Those things…After what they did to the people aboard this ship…You’re wrong! Those things killed pretty much everyone. They nearly killed me! I won’t do it!” Teresa insists.
Pure malice seeps from the large masked humanoid and it chitters loudly. Teresa has no doubt that he would like nothing more than to stomp on her again. The robed leader remains unfazed. In fact, he almost seems to smile, his deep-set eyes narrowing. Dr. Boyd’s voice takes on a resigned tone and she sighs heavily.
“But, if I don’t…I suppose, you’ll kill me. So, either way...” Teresa leaves the rest of her statement unsaid.
She sucks on her bottom lip, considering all of her limited options. The humanoid leader does smile this time.