Weyland Industries Mental Rehabilitation Center

Facility A13

Dr. Boyd is seated alone at a metal table. The surrounding room is covered wall to wall with two-way mirrors. The expression on Teresa’s face says she is not pleased. Her infant son is nowhere in sight.

“Where is my son?!?” Teresa hollers at no one. “I want my son!”

A tall woman, slightly older than middle-aged, wearing a lab coat and a smart-looking business suit swishes into the room. Pushing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses up on her nose, the woman smiles artificially at Teresa.

“Doctor…Boyd!” the woman doctor says with feigned enthusiasm. “I’m Dr. Wessinger. You should remember me. I’ve been in charge of your care since you awoke from cryo. I also helped to deliver your infant son a few weeks ago. I’m glad to see you’re more alert today. Are you ready to talk with us now?”

Dr. Elmira Wessinger takes a seat across from Dr. Boyd. She intertwines the fingers of both hands and peers at Teresa with a look of pure condescension. Teresa only repeats what she has been saying since her son was taken more than two nights before.

“I…Want…My…Son!” Teresa yells. “Where have you taken my son?”

Teresa slaps a slender hand on the table and glares at Doctor Wessinger. The older scientist simply smirks and glances at the clock on the wall above Teresa’s head.

“You will see your son, Dr. Boyd,” Dr. Wessinger says indifferently. “As soon as you tell us…Whose son he is?”

Teresa’s heart leaps in her chest and she scrambles for an answer.

“I…I…I don’t know whose son he is,” Teresa wails. “All I know…Is that he’s mine. I nearly gave birth to him on the escape craft. When I realized I was close to term, I immediately put myself in stasis. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know who the father is! Or…What he is.”

Teresa’s voice trails off as she finishes her statement. She stares across the table at the much older scientist. Will the doctor believe her story? Hell, she might not even believe it herself.

“None of the tests show any damage to the memory centers of your brain, Dr. Boyd,” Dr. Wessinger says with a snide smirk. “Who…Or what…Are you covering for?”

“I told you…I don’t know!” Teresa repeats.

“And I’m telling you…I don’t believe you!” Dr. Wessinger yells back.

The older woman’s accent is so thick that Teresa is almost unable to make out the words. However, she is able to get the gist. This scientist plans to play hardball. This new doctor, with eyes straight from Hell, will obtain her answers however she must. Teresa is sure of it. Even if it means harming her son.

A memory floats to the front of Teresa’s mind. N-Vorl’s muscular arms around her waist. His eyes like lush green grass. Eyes very much like his son’s. Whispered words in her ear. His mouth hovering close to hers.

“How will we say the little one came about? Elder Glandis will not accept…What we have done to reach this point.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I’m a scientist, N-Vorl. If a child is to be born…I will tell him all he needs to know. You need not be involved.”

Teresa hangs her head and runs a hand through her long black hair. She emits a low sigh. Meeting the older scientist’s gaze, Teresa finally finds her voice.

“I…After the California went down…I began experimenting on myself,” Teresa explains. “I injected myself with everything I could. I even artificially inseminated myself with different variants of Judas DNA. I don’t know why. I guess…I really did think I was going to die. I didn’t think it mattered anymore. Everyone around me was dead. If I hadn’t found that escape craft…I don’t know if I’d even be alive right now. The Judases were everywhere by then.”

Dr. Wessinger leans back in her chair. She sucks on her inner jaw and shoots darts of anger from her eyes to Dr. Boyd’s.

“Which begs the question…How did you manage to find the escape craft?” Dr. Wessinger says, once again leaning toward Teresa. “From what I’ve managed to dig up…You had no clearance to be in that area of the ship. That craft was off-limits to anyone but a few high-ranking officials. How did you manage to even operate it?”

Teresa’s heart leaps again, and she nervously licks her lips.

“The saboteur. He knew where the craft was,” Teresa hurriedly interjects. “He had all kinds of information on some kind of device. Codes, schematics, names of party affiliates who were willing to pay for samples of the Judas. He knew…Pretty much everything about the ship…The crew…Our project. All because of that nifty little device he could just stick into any computer. I…He was killed by a Judas. I tried to keep him alive. I wanted you all to know what he had done. He didn’t make it. But he knew. He knew where the craft was.”

Dr. Wessinger considers Teresa’s impassioned speech a moment before once again chewing on her jaw.

“So where is this device?” Wessinger asks.

“I destroyed it!” Teresa says. “It contained information which might be dangerous if in the wrong hands. I thought it best…That if I was going to be floating in space…Possibly forever…I should probably make sure that no one would ever be able to use it again.”

“Ummhmm. So what of this…Artificial insemination? What strain did you use?” Dr. Wessinger inquires.

“Huh? What?” Teresa says

Teresa is thoroughly flummoxed by the doctor’s return to a previously already answered question. She struggles to maintain her train of thought.

“What strain? Like I’m really going to remember that?” Teresa exclaims. “I was marooned on a giant freighter. Alone. I thought I was going to die. I was acting rashly and without any real rhyme or reason. I am not going to remember which strain of cockroach I managed to impregnate myself with. That’s the kind of nightmare a person wants to forget!”

Dr. Wessinger’s mouth forms an evil scowl.

“It’s not a Judas!” Dr. Wessinger states through clenched teeth. “We cross-referenced your son’s DNA against all known base pairs. He is not a Judas. But neither is he exclusively human. So…What is he, Dr. Boyd? Where did you get the DNA you used to inseminate yourself?”

Teresa sits back in her chair and crosses both arms over her ample bosom. The pressure of her arms against her chest causes Teresa to wince. She has not nursed her son in more than two days and the discomfort has become almost unbearable.

“I’m not going to repeat myself!” Teresa yells loudly. “I don’t know what strain. Maybe it was a contaminated sample? I don’t know. Now…Give…Me…My…Son!”

Dr. Wessinger releases a dejected sigh. She shakes her head negatively and offers Teresa a look of feigned sincerity.

“I don’t think so!” Dr. Wessinger replies.

The older woman climbs to her feet and heads for the door. The scientist makes a signal with her hand and a buzzer sounds. Followed by the thud of a lock releasing. Teresa climbs to her feet as well. There is now panic in Teresa’s voice.

“Where is my son? What have you done to him? Did you hurt him? I want to see my son!” Teresa screams.

A torrent of tears runs down Teresa’s face and she races to get around the table. Her intention is to cut Dr. Wessinger off before she can exit the room. However, the bag of bones moves quite swiftly for her old age. And Teresa is still weak from two years of cryosleep. The door shuts before Teresa can get to it. Wessinger is safely on the other side.

Teresa moans as she pounds a fist on the solid metal door. She knows that the other scientists are still standing opposite the wall-length mirror. On the other side of the door. Observing her, judging her, waiting for her to slip up and reveal what she knows. But will they wait? There are plenty of ways to get people to talk.

This is exactly what she’d been afraid of. That they would take her childling and experiment on him. She should have set the craft on a course far away from human habitation. She might still be floating out there, but at least she would have her son. Their son.

Teresa slowly eases down to the floor. She draws her feet up toward her chest and falls asleep in a fetal ball.