by Chris Hechtl
“Think about that. If she can do something in her state, barfing all the time, weak as a kitten, hair falling out, and dog tired, then I think you can put up with this and try,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “At least sleep on it,” she said moving off.
He took a shuddering breath, then another. After a moment his hands unclenched from the bed sheets and he relaxed, letting the sedatives kick in and making him drift.
“Where there is life there is hope,” Jayne said quietly, looking back, but her face was bleak.
...*...*...*...*...
The noob tossed his towel down and groaned, stretching his back. “Damn this sucks, man,” he said.
“It’s a job,” his partner said, plugging away at unloading a dishwasher. Another guy was busy scrubbing pots and pans. He nodded.
“Shit man, slave work.”
“Bitch, bitch. Could be worse. You could be out there,” the guy doing pots said shaking his head. “Or on the line. Trust me that ain't no picnic. Been there done that,” he said looking at the guy still unloading.
“You've been on the line?” the noob asked. “What's it like?”
The guy doing the pots finished the one he was working on and paused. “Its... hell, man it’s not like a video game. Not in a million years. In a game you're sitting on your ass tapping buttons. You don't realize how tiring it is to really run around and break down doors. Or how scary it is.”
“So? They get better stuff though,” the noob said sounding disgusted.
“Says who?” the pot man said shaking his head. “They get the same shit we get.”
“Not what I heard. I heard they get first pick of the stuff they find.”
“Some of the harvesters might go that route. Most turn in everything they find. The guys and gals on the line are too busy blowing stuff up to do that kind of shit man. Too many aliens.”
“Huh,” the noob said. He pulled on an ear. “Not what I heard,” he muttered.
“Careful what you hear man,” the pot man said going back to work.
“What's that supposed to mean?” the noob growled.
“Rumors fly all the time man. Not many are true. Check your source and check the facts before passing them on.”
“Who the hell put that guy in charge anyway?” the noob demanded. “Was there an election or something?” he demanded.
“Nah man. Well, yeah, there was a vote of confidence but really, it just worked out that way,” the pot man said, shooting a glance at the guy still going through the dishwashers. The dishwasher looked up and shrugged a little. The pot man shrugged back.
“So he's like lord here? Bet he's up in the pent house in the hotel,” the noob said sounding disgusted. “Yeah, catered, sits on his ass, watches everyone and lords over the joint. Think he's king.”
The pot man turned and shook his head. “You're talking out your ass man. Best focus on your work and not make shit up,” he growled. He glanced at the dishwasher but the guy's back was turned.
The noob turned on the dishwasher and shook his head. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” the dishwasher rumbled, finished unloading he started the process of re-loading and starting each. “Just plugging away,” he said. Others in the kitchen looked up and smirked a little and went back to cleaning. One pair exchanged amused glances.
“Everyone works. It’s how things are done here,” the pot man said glancing at the noob. “Which you ain't doing,” he said.
“I've had it with this shit. Is this all there is?” the noob demanded, sullen and angry. “Six days of scrubbing other people's crap. This sucks,” he growled.
“So you've got a day off tomorrow. Good,” the pot man said.
“What?” the noob asked.
“Everyone gets a day off. Forgot that part. Council started that a while back.”
“You don't have to be a dishwasher. There are other jobs,” the dishwasher man said with his back to them. He was loading the next dishwasher that the noob was supposed to be doing.
“What did you do before the invasion man?” the potter asked, nodding his chin to the noob.
“I was in college.”
“What major?”
“I didn't have one,” the noob admitted. “I wasn't sure about a major.”
“Did you work?” the dishwasher guy asked. He stopped and wiped his brow and looked over as a fresh load of dirty dishes clattered. He shook his head. “Definitely get a work out,” he said.
“Tell me about it,” the pot man said. “I'm letting this thing soak. I swear, Hermes gets these weird foods to cook and they stick like a sum bitch,” he said.
“It happens,” the dishwasher said amused. He glanced at the noob. “So, did you work while going to school?” he asked.
“In a restaurant a few times,” the noob said. “What's it to you?” he asked, jutting his chin out.
“Any other skills? If you've got some you can apply. Or failing that you can take classes after your shift is over,” the dishwasher said folding his arms and looking at the guy.
“Shit man, too tired to do squat after this,” the noob said disgustedly. He waved to the mountain of dishes. “See man, its crazy!”
“Only because you're spending more time griping about doing the job instead of actually doing the job,” Jayne said coming into the room. She took the dishwasher in with a glance then leaned out the door and yelled. “Found him!” she said voice raised.
“Found who?” the noob asked looking from the guy to Jayne. She was some higher up. Manager or something.
“Hiding here I take it?” Jayne asked, lips puckering in a smile as she cocked her head and put her hands on her hips. “You shut your phone off.”
Shane shrugged, wiping his hands on a rag. “They were behind. Still are actually,” he said. “I figured I'd lend a hand.”
“Yeah well, you've been off comm. for a while and people got nervous. You know there are a dozen or so people looking for you?” she demanded. He snorted, going over to a pile of stuff and pulling out gear from under a fresh stack of towels. He clipped his radio to his side and then strapped on his side arm.
“Someone want to tell me what's going on?” the noob asked, looking from one to the other. Shane snorted.
“Got your foot in your mouth and you don't even know it,” the pot man said shaking his head. The noob looked at him. He shrugged. “Don't look at me man; you dug your own hole.”
“Jayne I'm fine. Jen...”
“Is sleeping,” she admitted.
He looked up at her. “I know. I checked before coming to lunch,” he said putting his ball cap on. It was black but it had his name and oak leaves embroidered on it. Something Jen had insisted on. “The kids are in school and everything was quiet.”
She shook her head as Bill came in. She stepped aside as Bill looked and then shook his head. “Hiding in plain sight again boss?” he asked. “You gotta quit doing that. It drives Gabe nuts trying to find you,” he said.
The noob froze. Bill he knew. He'd heard he was head of security. So if this guy was kowtowing to... He turned and paled.
Shane ignored him as he walked out. “Just lending a hand. You know, everyone works remember?” he asked amused. He was malicious enough to twist the whiner's tail a little.
“Everyone works but you've got more important things to be doing than this you know. Your job is to make sure everyone is doing their job and seeing about lining up the next project. Not rubbing elbows with everyone and...”
“I like getting my hands dirty,” Shane said interrupting. He didn't want this souring things. As it was he was glad it happened the way it did. Put a nice cap on the guy's gripe session. He waved to the others as they walked out. They continued to bicker amiably down the hall. Slowly the others in the kitchen went back to work.
The noob turned on the pot man, eyes round. The pot man snorted, catching the look as he scrubbed a frying pan. “Was that...”
“The big boss man himself? Mister high and migh
ty you put up on a pedestal? Shane, the man O'Neill?” the pot man asked looking over his shoulder. He took in the guy's shocked expression and snorted again. “Tired of chewing shoe leather?” he asked.
“Um...”
“Let me tell it to you straight man. Everyone works here. Everyone. Every frigging one. You want out of this crappy job? Trust me; there are a dozen more people who'd gladly take your place. All of them out there. You want better? Fine. Go to school. That's what I'm doing. I'm taking classes in the morning and evening. Work sucks but it puts food in my belly. So suck it up and work man,” he snarled. He glared at the noob. “You don't like how the place is run? There's the door. No one's stopping you man. You want to walk, go right on ahead. But you want to live here, you play by the rules man.”
“Fine, whatever,” the noob said turning slowly and getting back to work. “What was he doing here, slumin'?” the noob muttered.
“Just shut your yap you twit,” a woman said, glaring at him. “Less talking, more working,” she growled. He flinched under her gaze and then bent to work, every inch screaming sullen resentment.
Chapter 53
Jen smiled as Yan tried to keep things civil. Doctor Phillips had a way of getting under your skin sometimes when he didn't agree with what you were saying. He could be downright pissy when they tried to apply Terran standards to the aliens. Unfortunately it was the only framework that they had as a reference.
Some of the others were not happy about the comparisons but they were reminded they needed somewhere to start. A framework again... an outline to start and fill in the blanks from there. The framework could be adjusted or reworked as new data presented itself. For now they had to go off what they knew and what they could associate.
“Territory. Marking territory?” Phillips asked, flipping through a paper. “We don't know....”
“That's the problem. We don't. We don't know how much territory they need to hunt. How many calories they need every day. Their growth...” Yan shook his head. “Patrol patterns, hunting patterns, and such. How much territory they share with other predators of other species. Most of this is pulled out of thin air. All on the observance that the aliens are marking things with scent.”
“We have to start somewhere. And some of it is based on research and observation,” Nate cautioned. Jen tried to stay out of the discussions when they got lively. It was just exhausting watching them sometimes. Even more so now that Jerry was trying to battle the... she put the thought out of her mind.
“We know that they are scent marking and claw marking their territory. At least the Hellcats and Hounds,” Nate reminded them. He went to pull up the footage but Yan waved it off.
“I know.”
“What, you went out and observed them in the wild?” Phillips asked the biology student. “We don't have any long term data beyond that one observed behavior. It could be anything.”
Yan tried hard not to grind his teeth together. “No, not personally,” the young man said shaking his head. “But I direct your attention to supplement, um...” he checked the notes on his tablet. “Here,” he held his tablet so the others could see. “Video Four five Alpha through Beta. See? A Hellcat scratching a post and then spraying it. When the male was done a female scented the post and rubbed it with her muzzle, grimacing. Classic territorial marking by a big predator, specifically a large cat.”
“He's got you there,” Jen said with a nod. “We can't really know for certain without chemical tests though if it was a territorial mark or a mark to show sexual maturity though Nate. Not without a lab test. But the association is there,” she said, glancing at the biology professor in inquiry.
Grudgingly the professor watched the vid and frowned. “Not alien,” he said.
“What was that?” Jen laughingly accused. “Not alien enough?” she asked, eyes dancing.
“Its... it’s just that it doesn't make sense. It’s not alien,” the biologist said disgusted.
“How so?” she asked amused. “Major predators mark areas. We're not sure about the mechanism, it could be in the pee, or it could be scent glands in the paws or other parts of the body. Or it could be none of the above. The animal could have just been peeing where it was at the time. But well...”
“The association is too strong to rule out,” the biologist said with a grudging nod. “I just don't want to make the jump so soon. It could lead to us running down the wrong paths, blind to other things,” he said.
Jen seemed to think about it and then nodded. “True,” she said slowly. “But we can't be fossilized and not make any assumptions until we've got mountains of data. We need to get information in the right hands.”
“Yes but the right information!” he said testily.
“At this point any information, even partially correct information, is valuable. We can adjust with later updates,” she said shrugging.
“But, if we say something that turns out to be wrong, we'll....”
“We'll what?” she asked smiling a little. “We'll be wrong. Yes, lives could be lost. But lives could be lost without the knowledge. My husband says the military believe in intel. Know the enemy,” she said. “He says it all the time. They need something. We can throw in a lot of provisions about preliminary findings and all that. They understand. Believe me. They want answers, so do we, but they know we don't have much to go on. Not a whole lot anyway.”
“Quite a bit of data. Six months now,” Nate said under his breath.
She glanced at him. “We're not even sure that's an entire life cycle yet, Nate. No idea. We're only just getting to know what makes them tick,” she said sighing. Her hands rested on the arms of her wheelchair. She hated the thing, hated the need to use it, hated her body's betrayal, but had eventually given in to using it when she was tired as she was now. Which was more and more often lately. “I envy you, this journey of discovery,” she said.
“Which they can continue on while you get some rest,” Rick the orderly said coming into the room. He nodded to the others. “Doc told you to get some down time,” he scolded.
“I couldn't sleep,” she said meekly. The drugs left her stomach upset. Trying to sleep with an upset stomach was nigh on impossible.
“Then we'll talk to him about that,” Rick said stepping around her chair to take the handle bars. “After I get something into you. Your son has been looking for you. Please tell me you didn't get here under your own power. Doc'll have my head.”
“Okay then, I won’t,” she said smiling and resting back into the chair. Doctor Phillips rose, uncertain but she waved him and Nate back. Both men had concern written all over their faces.
“Don't worry about me, just being hassled by cute nurses and orderlies who think they are towering hunks. I'll talk to you later,” she said.
“Much later,” Rick said as they exited the room. She sighed.
...*...*...*...*...
“No, no, no, what the hell do they think they are doing??!?” Debby said shaking her head and reaching for the radio. “Where the hell is the radio?” she asked turning.
“What?” her partner, Fred asked snoozing in his chair. He tipped his hat up. “On the charger. It was dead,” he said.
“Shit,” she said getting up and going for it.
“Why, what's going on?” he asked with a Southern drawl.
“Two idiots are outside Sams smoking.”
“So?” he asked looking at the girl as she fumbled the battery into the radio.
“So, you twit, they are in an unsecured area. Back of the building. Right smack dab across from those fields and the old 215. The construction crews haven't secured that area yet. Going outside is a big no, no,” she said fumbling with the radio.
“Let me see that,” he said, uncrossing his legs from the desk and sitting up straight. He reached out and she handed him the parts. He flipped the leather holder open, pulled the radio out, flipped open the panel and then snapped the radio in place.
“We need a back up,” she growled snatc
hing it out of his hands.
“Got borrowed,” Fred drawled. “Two weeks ago. Never got it back,” he said.
“It should have damn it,” she said keying the mike. “Which station?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Fred said going back to take his snooze.
“Damn it do I have to do everything around here?” she growled desperately, pawing through the papers and tablets. Finally she looked at him. He pointed to a list on the wall. She went over to it and used her finger to scroll through the list of frequencies until she found what she hoped was it.
...*...*...*...*...
“Dude we shouldn't be out here man. It’s dangerous,” one guy said shivering a little. He was looking around like a scared jack rabbit.
“Just shut it man, I gotta relax,” his partner said, inhaling and closing his eyes. “God that feels sooooo good,” he said, blowing out slowly. The rich, heady scent of marijuana and nicotine perfumed the air. He only had so many hits left; Julio had cut him off since he didn't have anything to trade. He needed the hits though; he needed to relax.
“Dude we're going to get in so much trouble,” his partner said desperately, eyes swiveling about as the night breeze made the bushes and shadows dance.
“Who cares man? No one's going to know. In and out. I left a block in the door. You shut the alarm off right?”
“Yeah man but...”
“Butt's right here man, I'll tell em to kiss it,” his friend laughed, slapping his own ass. “Left or right don't matter none,” he said. He took another drag. “God I needed this in the worst way, it’s such a bitch.”
“This is stupid man, let's get back in.”
“Man you're such a downer!” the smoker said rounding on his smaller partner. “Learn to lighten up and live a little. It ain't going to hurt nothin'. Just a little weed man,” he said disgusted.
