Lab Room Twelve
"Elder, please...I don't foresee this being a problem!" Teresa exclaims.
She points to the desktop screen in front of her. N-Vorl's brow creases at the elevated tone of Dr. Boyd's voice. His stomach lurches with the hope of finally being given the order to eliminate this bothersome ooman female.
"We're talking maybe a few systems glitching out," Teresa continues. "We may even lose power in certain damaged corridors. Nothing really major. And nothing, we can't handle. I don't think. Back on Earth, we get slammed by solar flares on a regular basis. This isn't much different. The California's systems can handle it. Just look at how well the ship held up under your bombardment. We'll be fine!"
Elder Glandis, as well as every other yautja in the room, continues to glare at Dr. Boyd. The robed alien may have changed his clothes, but he has not lost his mind. He repeats his prior stance so that there is no mistake.
"Theorizing is your job, Doctor. But theories are not fact. I am Clan Elder. I will not sacrifice my warriors needlessly," Glandis roars, his large mandibles flaring outward. "If this...Geothermic disturbance...Is as widespread as you say, I would prefer to take my warriors where they will better serve our needs. You have one-hundred of your ooman hours to prepare your data. At which time, I will take my hunters and we will return to our ship. I will leave three hunters here to watch over you and maintain the security of our project. We will return once this...Disturbance...Has passed."
Without another word, Elder Glandis pivots and strolls out of the lab.
Teresa watches Elder Glandis stalk away with a heavy heart. Who will he leave behind? Surely, not N-Vorl?
As if bidden, N-Vorl steps beside Dr. Boyd. Teresa lowers her gaze and refuses to look at him. She pretends to rearrange items on her desk, as if searching for something. Swallowing hard, Teresa pushes down the growing knot in her stomach. N-Vorl's voice at her ear causes her to grow tense.
"It will be very interesting to see who is chosen to stay behind," N-Vorl says, as if reading Dr. Boyd's mind. "I do hope I am given the honor."
Teresa turns her head to glare at N-Vorl. The irritating warrior's face is almost one wide grin, his eyes fixed on Dr. Boyd's. Dr. Boyd considers lashing out with a pithy remark, but decides against it. Instead, Teresa averts her gaze and pivots away from N-Vorl. She quickly grabs up her materials and heads for the main lab.
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Glotis joins N-Vorl and Teresa in the main lab. Teresa swivels in her chair and meets the female yautja’s gaze. Maintaining eye contact is difficult—considering what she witnessed only hours before. And what she has done with that information since.
“Did you sleep well?” Teresa asks.
Immediately Dr. Boyd is hit with a stab of pain and sadness. Remembering her air-headed lab assistant, Dr. Boyd nearly bursts into tears. No one truly sleeps well in space.
Glotis nods and gingerly touches the injury on her head.
“I slept the sleep of one who is not well,” Glotis says. “It was enough to rejuvenate me.”
“That’s good. Cause we’ve got our work cut out for us. From what I can tell, after looking over the data, this planet undergoes a massive geothermal upheaval every seventeen months or so. The storms created can last for days…Even weeks. And it looks like we’re in for one helluva storm. Can’t rule out large scale seismic activity either. Quite a few mountains on this planet. We might just learn which of them are hiding the major fireworks,” Dr. Boyd says. “Elder Glandis has proposed that you yautja return to the mothership and hang out in high orbit until the disturbance passes. Haha. Wow. We picked one helluva planet to set down on.”
Teresa releases a deep sigh, while glancing around the room at friend and foe alike.
“We all know, I can’t join you. So I will be staying behind. To continue our experiments. We can expect severe conditions to be over our location in about one-hundred and twenty hours—or the equivalent of just over five Earth days. Elder Glandis has given us just one-hundred hours to perform our initial tests and have all our data compiled. Not a whole lot of time, but...I think we can do it. Ha! Fact is...We don't have any other choice. Let's get started.”
N-Vorl’s eyes narrow and he considers what the future may bring. He glances to his left; at the sound of heavy footfalls. P'taal joins them in the main lab, a concerned expression on his face. N-Vorl nods at P'taal--whose mandibles click in agitation. Time has been shortened for all of them.
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Teresa holds a stasis globe between four fingers of her right hand. She stares at the pale wormlike embryo inside. Turning to Glotis, she calls to her fellow scientist.
“Glotis? What can you tell me about this specimen?” Dr. Boyd asks. “The specimen in stasis globe twenty-nine? The creature with the elongated head?”
Glotis tries to remain noncommittal, but Teresa can sense the ripple of excitement in the female yautja’s entire being.
“The Keinde Amedha?” Glotis says. “It is our most fearsome prey beast! No yautja is truly blooded until they have taken on one of these serpents and won.”
Teresa leans back in her chair and swivels in Glotis’ direction.
“By blooded, you mean ‘bloodied’? Like severely injured?” Teresa presses.
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“No.” Glotis says. “I mean to win. To spill the burning lifeblood of the black serpent. To take its life.”
“Oh. Okay,” Teresa says with new understanding. “So…In order to be blooded a warrior must kill one of these black serpents? Okay. So what does the final stage of this serpent look like? This organism isn't black. Is this some kind of larval stage?”
“Yes. That is the larval stage…As you call it,” Glotis says with a coy smile. “The creature that emerges from a host is very dissimilar to what you see in that stasis globe. It is a formidable creature. Tall, black, four-legged, clawed, with a second mouth…Within the first…Which can punch through metal and pulverize bone. Their blood is caustic and burns like fire when it touches any surface. That is what it means to be blooded. Every mark you see on the faces of the yautja here, was made with the blood of a Keinde Amedha. Even mine.”
Glotis points to an almost indistinguishable marking beside her right eye. A slash with two dots on either side of it.
“Did you not notice many of us here wear the same marking?” Glotis teases. “Only the unblooded do not yet carry the mark. It is the mark of our clan. Each serpent kill brings our clan honor.”
“No. I hadn’t noticed,” Teresa admits. “It’s all I can do just to keep your names straight.”
Teresa continues to study the tiny encased embryo. She turns the stasis globe around several times, in order to view every angle of the strange alien baby.
"Do we incorporate the serpent DNA into our next experiment?” Teresa queries.
Glotis shakes her head and arches an eyebrow.
“I do not believe that would be a wise decision at this time,” Glotis states candidly. “We should wait until the storms and any adverse seismic activity has ceased. When conditions are better. This is not a specimen to be trifled with.”
“Fair enough,” Dr. Boyd says. She replaces the stasis globe in its compartment.
Rummaging through her desk drawer, Teresa removes a set of ear pods and shoves one into each ear. She wirelessly syncs the pods to her tablet and activates a playlist of classical music to repeat in the background.
Glotis punches several commands into her yautja medical device and attempts communication with Dr. Boyd. She tries more than once before physically approaching the human scientist. Examining Teresa's ears, Glotis frowns discontentedly. She is not accustomed to being ignored. She taps Dr. Boyd lightly on her left shoulder. Teresa realizes she is being spoken to and removes one of her ear pods.
"I apologize, Glotis," Teresa says. "I was absorbed in the music. Were you speaking to me?"
"Yes," Glotis says. "I need the most recent data you have on the Judases' resonance defense. Glandis has requested it."
"Okay...Yeah," Teresa replies. "Give me a sec."
Teresa opens the correct file and downloads it to Bess Trainor's old medical tablet. She slides the auxiliary tablet over to Glotis and then goes back to what she is doing.
"It's all there," Teresa says.
She is surprised when Glotis only stands there staring at her. Gray eyes blinking, mouthparts pulled together in a disappointed grimace.
"What's the matter? It's all there. I promise," Teresa reassures her yautja counterpart.
"Are you not going to brief the elder yourself?" Glotis asks.
The yautja scientist tilts her head in typical comical yautja fashion, and Dr. Boyd grins.
"He asked you for the report, Glotis!" Teresa exclaims. "You give it to him! I might just make him angry. Again."
Teresa leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. The thin smile is still on her lips. When she opens her eyes, Glotis is still standing resolutely by her chair.
"You know...You shouldn't keep Elder Glandis waiting," Teresa says teasingly.
"I...Cannot make sense of your writings," Glotis says reluctantly. "It would be better if you explained your conclusions to Glandis yourself."
Across the room, P'taal appears in the doorway to Lab Room Seven. There is a brief moment of eye contact between Glotis and the more subdued yautja warrior. Teresa's face almost becomes one big grin. So, she is to run interference while the lovebirds commingle? Well, well.
Removing her second ear pod, Teresa takes the auxiliary tablet from Glotis and lays it on the table. She pretends to be annoyed.
"Oh. Okay. If you insist," Teresa exclaims dramatically.
She climbs to her feet, medical tablet in hand. Stepping beside Glotis, she whispers hoarsely.
"Just this one more time," Dr. Boyd says with a smile. "I'm tired of having to nursemaid you about the commonality of ooman chicken scratch. I'm a doctor...A scientist. We love chicken scratch. Next time, I expect you to know what I am thinking before I do. Then, I won't have to scribble notes at all."
Glotis manages a wide yautja smile. This is already become a running joke between the two female scientists. Teresa scribbling barely legible notes, and Glotis indignantly refusing to deal with them. Teresa offers Glotis an energetic wink.
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N-Vorl stands like a sentry beside the door to Room Twelve. Dr. Boyd works feverishly at her desktop, one leg folded underneath her in the chair. N-Vorl watches her through half-lidded eyes. The only thing preventing Teresa from hearing the agitated gnashing of his mandibles, is the mask on his face.
Teresa is aware that N-Vorl is there. She simply no longer cares. The only places he does not follow her are the bathroom, the showers, and her makeshift quarters. However, with the yautjas’ ability to remain concealed from view, Dr. Boyd is unsure if even that is true. So, she chooses to ignore him.
N-Vorl swivels at the sound of approaching feet. P’taal strides to where his battle brother has positioned himself. Glancing at Dr. Boyd, P’taal speaks in a low voice.
“Why do you wear your mask, N-Vorl? Are you joining us for the hunt?” P’taal asks.
P'taal prepares to put on his own mask. N-Vorl answers without turning his head, crossing both arms over his muscular chest.
“I was not aware there was to be another hunt,” N-Vorl says.
The warrior’s impatience, at being assigned watch-duty over the ooman female, grows with each hunt he is forced to sit out. While his brothers in arms are continually compiling trophies; N-Vorl has been saddled with the responsibility of watching the female conduct her very boring experiments, eat, nap, listen to vile music, and other uninteresting tasks. Not what he had agreed to when he joined his uncle's contingent. He had hoped for battle against glorious opponents. Instead, he'd been paired with Dr. Teresa Boyd. Probably the most irritating ooman in existence.
"More data is needed on the ooman insects," P'taal says, eyeing N-Vorl suspiciously. "We can only obtain such data by engaging them in battle. You must know that?"
N-Vorl issues a low growl and narrows his eyes. P'taal's statement, though innocuous, cuts deeper than an arm blade. Glorious battle, and here he must stay. Guarding the ooman female.
“The ooman female…I do not trust her," N-Vorl states. "How can we trust anything this ooman says? Even now, in a state of assumed calm, her heat signature fluctuates unpredictably. I suspect she is attempting to hide subterfuge.”
P’taal puts on his mask, shaking his head in the process.
“Perhaps, the ooman is bothered by your constant presence,” P’taal reasons. “You stalk her as a Keinde Amedha would stalk its prey. It is not necessary to act as a second shadow. She has shown us no hostility since our first meeting.”
“I am only doing my duty,” N-Vorl exclaims.
Moreso, to convince himself than to convince the skeptical P’taal. P'taal shakes his head a second time and turns to leave. However, N-Vorl is not finished.
“And what of you, P’taal?” N-Vorl challenges his warrior kin. “Will you do your duty…When the time comes? Can you let go of the past?”
With a deep sigh, P’taal only spares N-Vorl a single brief glance.
“I am a true yautja,” P’taal retorts. “There can never be any question.”
Marching confidently from the room, P’taal joins Elder Glandis’ contingent in the main lab. The double doors to the main lab have barely drawn open, before the fearsome warriors stroll out into the hallway.
N-Vorl observes Dr. Boyd from behind the relative security of his mask. Whatever she is planning, he will know it soon enough.
As if sensing N-Vorl's darker thoughts, Teresa turns her head to peer in his direction. She taps her stylus against her bottom lip, watching him with slitted eyes. Without a word, Teresa returns her attention to her computer screen. N-Vorl continues to scrutinize the ooman scientist, one hand flexing at his side.