7. Nothing Else Matters
Chapter seven
Nothing Else Matters
“W hat is with you lately?” Talia shouted as she tossed a throw pillow at her roommate.
Angela caught it and threw it back at her face. “Just tired.” I have studying to do. Without another word Angela stood from the couch, went to her room, and shut the door.
I hate humans, so needy.
Angela hoped this assignment wouldn’t last long. She had just completed orientation. Stathos-6 had guided her through the basics. She was a part of an elite species. Gathering intel from across the universe. Earth was at the highest risk of destroying itself, so they needed as many samples from the planet as possible.
She recalled, when she was seated in the room with the large flashing screens that showed segments from her previous assignments, that the universe was depending on her.
I wonder how old I am.
Stathos-6 hadn’t explained how long each of her previous assignments had lasted, so there was no telling. She could either be hundreds of years old, or in her mid-twenties, like her human roommate.
I wonder where I’m from.
Stathos-6 also had failed to mention where her home was. It was almost like she was a blank slate during her orientation.
But that doesn’t make sense.
Focus, Angela.
She had a data extraction tonight. She needed to be thinking of her upcoming task, not thinking of herself like a spoiled human.
Angela’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door. Before she had a chance to say, ‘go away’, Talia barged in.
“Hey, roomie , I don’t know what’s up with you, but you didn’t need to throw the pillow at my face.”
She stated sternly with her arms crossed, waiting for some kind of explanation, or apology? Angela wasn’t sure, but explanation was out, so that left apology.
“You’re right, I’m sorry, I also shouldn’t have walked away like that. I think I’m not feeling well, you know, finals week, little sleep, and crappy food.”
Talia stared at her; confusion etched on her face.
“Finals? Angela, what are you talking about? Finals happened weeks ago. Maybe we should take you to see someone-”
“No.”
“But Ange, you’re not yourself-”
“I said, no. I just need some rest, so if you would please.”
Angela got up from her bed and ushered Talia out of her room, then locked the door. She immediately heard Talia slump against it on the other side and heard her say. “Fine, but I’m not letting this go Ange, something’s up with you and I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.”
Angela waited until she heard Talia’s footsteps recede down the hallway, then shut the blinds of her only window, went to her bed, and rolled herself into the large black satin-backed blanket. She lay there rubbing her temples and cursing this human body.
I bet Stathos-6 never gets headaches.
She was having a hard time remembering her life. Segments of her recent orientation were the only vivid things she could recall. The gray oval room with membrane walls. The large screens that showed her snippets of her life were organic, not like televisions on Earth. Almost as if the room was alive and sharing its thoughts, its data, with her.
Then there was Stathos-6. They started out tall, slender, and Gray like the walls, with two large black eyes that took up most of their head and slug-like skin. But as they placed Angela in the room, they transformed into something more reptilian. Like a large crocodile that walked on two legs, no tail, and an almost human face, if it weren’t for all the scales, two slits for a nose, and pointed teeth. The reptilian form color shifted as it communicated with her, not through words, but through thought. Red, purple, blue, back to green and black, like a confused chameleon.
Angela assumed that was her natural form as well, if only she could remember. The feeling of long steel nails in her skull wouldn’t go away, the pain made it difficult to concentrate. But she had to be ready for tonight. Despite Stathos-6 explaining that they were her oldest friend and ally, something about them told her that she could not fail.
The cold graveyard pulsed with dark energy; winter was coming. The breeze pushed the leaves around on the ground and chilled her bones. She walked slowly through the aisles of headstones, until finally, she saw them. A dark hooded figure in the distance.
“Statho-”
They held up a hand. “That’s not my name on this planet… you will call me, Spencer.”
Angela nodded. “Of course, Spencer.” If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that Spencer looked like the son of some rich and entitled politician. Perfectly styled short blonde hair and bright blue eyes that lacked warmth.
A chill went up her spine. They could be anyone . But wait, why would that thought frighten her, she was one of them, right?
“Angela, over here.”Spencer waved her over to a headstone that was flat in the ground, covered with weeds, and crumbling around the edges.
“How can you tell?” She asked. “I can’t even make out a name.”
“Are you questioning me?”
The low growl in his voice raised the hairs on her neck. “No, no, of course not, I was just wondering-”
“Don’t ask questions that detract from our mission.” He glowered at her. “Now, this human body of yours has had some modifications made, but it’s mostly mind over matter. You know what to do, go ahead.”
Relief flooded through her body when she was able to get to the casket below the ground on her first try. But as she stared at the Stapes bone in her hand, she had to force herself not to gag.
Get the job done, Angela.
“How do these tiny things not disintegrate over time? Shouldn’t they-”
Spencer’s voice took a new, low, and threatening tone. “ Do not ask questions that distract from the mission, Angela. Now make the deposit.”
Angela’s eyes widened in terror. The voice that came out of Spencer was unnatural. She could no longer delay the inevitable, she relaxed her jaw, opened her mouth wide and felt for the small slit inside her throat that she knew could receive the Stapes bone and record the data held on it.
“Good.” Spencer said. He roughly pulled Angela’s forehead to his and said. “We fight for the stars.”
“And the Stars for us.” She replied as her skin crawled with unease.
Angela bit back her tears that she didn’t fully understand as she watched Spencer walk away.
Her flesh was burning, slowly but surely there’d be no jacket left. She pulled and pulled against her crisscrossed bound arms, but it was no use, the white straitjacket wouldn’t budge. She accidentally leaned back a quarter of an inch and was rewarded with another burn on her back. These sadistic nurses left her tied to a radiator heater two days ago, but they were stupid enough to use a tether this time instead of chains. If she could just get the angle right and burn a hole through the tether, then she’d be able to break free.
She twisted her body a little to the left and leaned back again. She heard a very faint sizzle, the sound of fabric frying, and prayed it was the right bit of fabric this time. She counted to thirty, and waited for the feeling of burning skin, but it didn’t come.
Yes! Just a few more seconds.
Suddenly she fell against the cold hard tile floor.
I did it!
She hurriedly freed herself from the fabric imprisoning her body and tossed it to the ground. Her knees and back were stiff as she stood. She rubbed her thighs to try and get some blood flow moving through her lower extremities. She looked down and saw her pee-stained white pants.
I need to find some clothes.
But that would require going into the employee only wing of the ‘hospital’ and that was a definite no. She’d have to find something on the streets.
Clara knew the dark side of the city better than most considering her mother tossed her out of the home when she was fourteen. She did well for herself, lied about her age and lived at a shelter while she finished high school. But then she had her first, very public, episode, during her first semester at college and ended up in this place. Clara couldn’t handle one more zap to the brain, or being forced into ice cold water until her lungs almost gave out. She couldn’t live with torture.
Her bare feet padded softly against the floor as she slowly made her way through the darkened corridor. The sounds of the insane asylum inhabitants made her skin crawl, as if they were no longer human the longer they were trapped here. She brushed a lock of hair out of her face and almost cried at feeling how matted it was, she’d probably be forced to shave her head.
Clara’s pulse quickened when she finally saw the green glow from the illuminated exit sign. She walked as quickly as she dared, scared to make too much noise. She saw nothing else, heard nothing else but the exit sign and the faint buzz it emitted. Her mouth twitched up at the corners with hope, freedom was mere inches away.
She reached for the push bar of the door when she was forcibly tugged back.
NO.
Her eyes widened in terror, and she tried to scream but her mouth and nose were covered with a heavy wet cloth.
“Where do you think you’re going.”A sadistic deep voice growled at her.
The man was easily double Clara’s size and smelled of onion. Her eyes were becoming heavy, and her body weak. No, no no no… “NO!!!”
Clara screamed out shrill and desperate and the man was flung back off his feet. The light bulbs in the ceiling lit up for a moment then popped and shattered, spraying glass all along the ground. The guard was unconscious and had blood dripping from his nose and eyes. Clara’s chest pounded with adrenaline. An alarm rang out and the halls echoed with the animal-like screams of the other inhabitants locked in their cells.
Clara’s breathing came out fast and harsh, she took one last look behind her and sprang for the door. Blinding sunlight assaulted her, and Clara held a hand in front of her face to block its rays. She hesitated for only a moment, and then ran.
Angela rubbed the crust from her eyes as the last images of Clara’s life left her mind. Clara lived a full and unremarkable life. Living off the grid but finding peace in nature and was never locked up again. She was eighty years old when she had a heart attack close to town. She was buried as Jane Doe.
Those abilities didn’t make sense. A human shouldn’t be capable of that. Angela rubbed her temple as she tried to make sense of what she had seen in her mind. Why did Spencer-no, we, why did we need this information?
She tried to shake off the feeling that something wasn’t adding up.
Something is wrong.