Iain walked down the aisles, gaze glancing from cryopod to cryopod, searching for something that might look human inside, or at least was picked up near the time he was. Thankfully he’d asked Arl how to check for the screen on each cylinder that showed important information.
Surprisingly, not a lot of the beings he found in the chambers looked nearly as human as the twins did. Was his mind and/or the parasites in there adjusting to the fact he was living among aliens? Or was there some interaction between infected brains that allowed it? Maybe most of these aliens might not even infected?
Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone around to consult. And his ‘Zos weren’t helping.
There were even things that had to be animals, such as the Zaboos of Ebabon, who looked as cute as some kind of kitten/koala crossbreed.
He checked out the information on them.
Pros, the readout said: As cute as is conceivable.
Cons, the readout added: Kind of bitey. Kind of really, really bitey.
A tidbit of info came unbidden into his mind. And some flashes of horrifically violent imagery that made him step right back.
The first Zatari colonists on Ebabon though they would make the perfect pet. The last colonists thought they’d managed to eradicate them. They were wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong!
After he stopped shaking, Iain took in a gulp of breath to calm himself. Still Australian though. Maybe he was stuck with it. Could be worse. Although not likely much.
He’d managed to check out nearly a hundred pods, often having to rub or scrape off a light coating or thicker layers of frost with his fingernails before finally reaching one that looked to hold something human. Very human. Very, very human.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He couldn’t help but stare, and after a minute, he rubbed away enough frost to see entirely what was laying within. It was a woman, looking maybe thirty give or take, with ruddy skin and cornrows. Oh, yes, and as naked in there as he had been when he was defrosted. Interestingly enough, both her drapes and carpet were corn rowed. That had to take some skill.
After staring for a while, probably longer than was remotely polite, he turned to check the information on the being frozen within. Hmmm. It listed the species as 'Unregistered'. That was something he hadn’t thought to ask Arl about, thinking that most intelligent species in the Galaxy would be known, given what they said about the 'Zos. What would even qualify as an unregistered species? It wasn't like even base humans hadn't been unregistered.
Iain checked the time/date on the suspension. It read 22,036 years. That was within a hundred years of his abduction, according to what Arc and Arl had told him.
"Bingo!" he said out loud.
But he didn't yet make a move.
He thought again, about what unregistered might mean, stood there for a couple more minutes looking over the frozen body. It was certainly a body that was a lot preferable to have around compared the heavyset pair upstairs offered.
Sure, she was probably well out of his league, but what did he have to lose? Iain spent another couple of minutes debating that. Pulled out his phone and sent a tweet.
Hot alien in cryo, do I defrost her? #potentialfreezerburn #WTFalientech.
No response.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” he decided, then searched the controls for a clue. Sitting there in the middle of a panel was indeed a big button marked, 'defrost' and wasn't accompanied by the usual buttons that would accompany it, like 'pizza' or 'high'.
"It's not a microwave, Iain," he told himself, working up the courage to do what he'd come down here to do. "Or if it is, you're about to find out.
He pressed the button. Even he was surprised at how simple the process was, but like a microwave was exactly how it appeared to work, including the hum, the warming of the glass, although no revolving dish. But then, how complex should it be. Arc and Arl had pulled him out without Skipper's help. So defrosting this woman had to be easy enough even for an idiot, right?