LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter Thirty-One: Truth
The yautja hunting party has still not returned over two hours later. Dr. Boyd injects a larval stage Judas with a syringe of golden fluid. The syringe contains spinal fluid extracted from one of the obscure alien embryos contained in the stasis globes.
Dr. Boyd mentally crosses her fingers that the larval specimen will survive testing. It is one of four larva hatched from the newest batch of captive Judases. She holds the Judas firmly in one heavy-duty gloved hand; while extracting the needle from the base of the roaches’ head.
N-Vorl watches Dr. Boyd work from the other side of the lab, muscled arms crossed over his wide chest. Teresa glances over at N-Vorl and readjusts her position to allow for some discretion. The heat within the labs has been gradually building up, and she is starting to feel lightheaded. Borderline, sick to her stomach.
Placing the empty syringe on the table, Dr. Boyd firmly holds the Judas specimen down with a gloved hand. She uses her other hand to open the first two buttons of her blouse. Whatever planet the yautja’s hail from; she has no great desire to go there.
Teresa is overwhelmed by a wave of nausea. She inhales sharply as N-Vorl approaches her workstation. The bad-tempered yautja stands within a few feet of Dr. Boyd; observing her.
Rage, fueled by heat exhaustion and irritation, courses through Teresa. Thoroughly fed up, she forgets her decision to simply ignore the hulking sod. Dr. Boyd returns the specimen she was experimenting on to its glass isolation cube, and snaps her neck in N-Vorl’s direction. The queasiness in the pit of her stomach doesn’t make matters any easier.
“What have I done now, N-Vorl?!” She utters testily. “Splice a gene incorrectly? Forget to salute? Incorrectly conjugate a yautjian verb? Oh…I know. Do I simply exist? Is that not allowed in your universe?”
N-Vorl closes the distance between them, and drops to one knee so that he is level with Teresa’s chair. He glowers at her angrily. He is under the misguided belief that her previous action was an attempt to hide something of importance. His temper flares and he struggles to hold back his fury.
“Your lack of respect for our ways and customs is problematic at best,” N-Vorl says, his jaw clenching in anger. “Were it any elder but Glandis…You’d already be dead.”
Teresa swallows hard and struggles to maintain eye contact with N-vorl. She hadn’t really been expecting an answer. Just the usual frowning and scowling—maybe with a side of angry grunting.
“Elder Glandis still believes you are valuable to our work on this planet,” N-Vorl continues. “That is the only reason he does not reprimand you as he would one of our own. He wishes for you to continue…Cooperating…Of your own free will. He believes results will be better that way. Few have lived as long as Elder Glandis. He is a true yautja. But I believe he has made a tremendous error in trusting you with our hallowed secrets.”
Teresa’s jaw tightens and she moves to gather up her things. N-Vorl’s arm shoots out and he presses a palm against her tablet computer—effectively securing it to the table.
“It appears that you do not like the truth, ooman!” N-Vorl says with a cruel sneer.
Teresa wrenches her tablet free and inspects it for damage. She presses the tablet to her chest while pushing her chair back. Tears threaten to tumble from Dr. Boyd’s eyes; and she desperately seeks to get away from N-Vorl before they do. She is too late. A large tear squeezes out of one corner of her eye and slides down her cheek. The yautja warrior’s face twitches almost imperceptibly and he tilts his head to the side.
“You know what your problem is, N-Vorl?!” Teresa whispers angrily. “You need a serious attitude adjustment. Possibly even some anger management. It might really improve your character a little! Now, excuse me…I have work to do! Elder Glandis will be expecting an updated report when he returns.”
Climbing to her feet, Dr. Boyd pretends to be heading for her private lab. However, a quick detour and she is at Laboratory Three—her new quarters. Crossing the room quickly, she rushes toward the adjoining employee washroom.
She doesn’t quite make it to the toilet before hurling up all of the food contained in her stomach. Some of the vile mess getting on the front of her clothes. Teresa presses a hand against the metal floor, to steady herself, and kneels before the toilet. She continues to purge the contents of her stomach. Eventually, only bile comes up. The bitter taste, and horrid odor, causes her to gag over and over. Once she is done retching, she reaches up a shaking hand and sends the stinking globular filth out into space.
-
-
N-Vorl searches Lab Room Twelve for Dr. Boyd. Her angry outburst had given him reason to pause; and she’d slipped away. N-Vorl storms from Teresa’s private lab, and nearly runs into Glotis as she is exiting the lounge.
“The ooman….Have you seen her?!” N-Vorl inquires of his female counterpart.
Glotis’ breath smells of raw ooman meats and N-Vorl's stomach gurgles with sudden hunger. The doctor had called them steaks. Yes, it has been a while since he has eaten. Glotis simply shrugs and gives N-Vorl a sly look.
“No,” Glotis says. “But I am not her keeper! Perhaps, you should do a better job?!”
Glotis smiles her usual yautja version of a smile and heads off toward the main lab. N-Vorl is now more incensed than ever. More laughter at his expense.
-
-
N-Vorl heads down the corridor adjoining the lounge to Room Three—Dr. Boyd’s quarters. He reaches to activate his cloak. However, the sound of loud retching attracts his attention. Turning to go in the opposite direction, N-Vorl heads for the source.
He finds Teresa bent over a toilet in the large shared bathroom. She finishes retching and uses a hand to flush away the resultant mess. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she removes her soiled blouse and wipes at her mouth. The doctor’s tank top is completely soaked with sweat, and her color is flushed. She props herself up by using the wall. N-Vorl watches her from the doorway—his cloak now activated.
Taking a deep shaky breath, Dr. Boyd attempts to calm her breathing and ease the nausea hammering at her head and stomach. She slowly makes her way to the shower before stopping yet again. N-Vorl makes up his mind to leave, realizing the ooman intends to clean herself. A stirring inside of him keeps N-Vorl rooted in place.
Teresa turns on the water and steps into the shower fully clothed. She wipes at her face, the warm spray washing away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Leaning against the wall, she moans deeply.
“Oh, Richard. Richard, I'm so sorry! We should have sheltered in place like you ordered. Bess might not be dead. And you would have found me. At least, then…Even if the specimens did get out…We could have been together. You came looking for me. And now, you're gone. Oh god! It’s all my fault!”
Shaking involuntarily, Dr. Boyd begins to shed her clothes. N-Vorl continues to watch out of an acute interest. The ooman has referred to the dead ooman male named Richard. The ooman they'd found at the entrance to the labs.
She and that particular ooman must have been especially close. The doctor has cried tears for him many times—even risking possible harm to cover his mutilated body. However, it was a different male ooman that he had cut down with his plasmacaster. The male Dr. Boyd had ushered quickly from the ship. They, too, had seemed very close. The ooman male struggling feebly to protect her, even with his gaping shoulder wound.
Did ooman females have many mates? Or is this doctor of a different caste? Similar to the castes found in the hives of the deadly black serpents?
N-Vorl studies Teresa very carefully, finding characteristics which are indeed fitting of both fertility and a likelihood of carrying many healthy childlings. For all of her faults, this ooman is unlike any he has come across. Certainly, her skin and hair texture is much different. Her seeming lack of fear, and constant willingness to challenge him, has created a chasm in his thinking. She is brave for a female. A lone female at that.
He stays close by until Teresa signals she is done by turning off the water. Finally turning to leave, N-Vorl glances over his shoulder one last time. Dr. Boyd uses a stretchy circular band to coil her wet hair up at the top of her head. She is still unsteady on her feet, quickly freeing up one of her hands to support herself on the wall.
A new wave of sobs hits Teresa, and she slides to the floor of the shower. She loses consciousness on the way down, falling heavily on her side. Only an outstretched arm prevents her head from striking the floor, cushioning the impact. She lies unmoving except for a small twitch of her left hand.
N-Vorl considers going to her—aiding her, but remembers her vitriolic reaction to his being anywhere near the showers. How would she react to him carrying her naked from the washroom? He indecisively looks from the shower to the doorway leading to the nearby corridor. He settles for at least making sure she is alive.
Crossing to the shower, N-Vorl kneels beside the fallen scientist. He presses a hand against her chest and feels the steady heartbeat within. Using his mask, he scans her for obvious injuries. She otherwise appears to be fine. The likely conclusion is that the ooman has fainted due to extreme emotional strain. N-Vorl carefully repositions Dr. Boyd in the shower, resting her back against the wall. In this way, she won’t aspirate on her own vomit should she become ill again.
He touches Dr. Boyd’s hair, carefully removing the circular band she placed in it. Teresa’s hair falls over one side of her face and N-Vorl gently removes it. He marvels at the texture, which is soft and composed of many thin strands. He tenderly touches the flesh of her face and neck, observing the softness there as well. He stops short of her collarbone. Returning his hand to Teresa's hair, he gently smooths it down and then exits the shower room.
-
-
Later
Dr. Boyd returns to the main lab. She is once again dressed in a lab coat, button-up blouse—albeit light blue this time, and a pair of khakis. Her color is no longer flushed and she appears healthier in complexion. Teresa drops down into her chair without a word. If she has any knowledge of N-Vorl’s presence in the shower room, she gives no indication.
N-Vorl takes in all of this with a flutter in his chest. He moves as if to go to her, but can think of no logical reason to do so. He remains rooted in his place beside the holding tanks.
The hunting party has since returned. Each yautja bearing the grotesque heads, forearms, or wingcases of their kills. N-Vorl’s heart aches for the hunt, but there is also a new ache in his chest. An ache, he would have never seen coming in all of his years.