Disclaimer: I do not own District 9 in any way shape or form.
Stepping out into the wild African sun hit him with a high. The streets, the venders and the markets were vacant except for the wild dogs, cats and others inhabiting the still city- hardly any of them being human. He floated on top of the silence inside his mind, numb, because he had expected and yet- more than dismayed, or disappointed to see what he saw, felt incredibly lost between each broken pane of glass and shadow inhabiting these empty rooms.
"He could be here…," he mumbled, more to himself than the small unit that followed him. "He could be anywhere," barked their leader ahead, scanning, tasting the air. Ignoring his comment, Christopher led them to the gaping doors of MNU headquarters. Traces of his memories evaporated out from the hall he vaguely recalled rushing into, gun in hand; three years later, and without a direct need to use a weapon, he followed what he could remember on a so far peaceful note. The dead silence enhancing the thick air.
But before he would enter MNU's walls he hesitated. "Oliver," the once child-prawn reached his father's eyes. "You and two others will stay on the ground floor."
"Ul'keph, Djurh," the commander barked, satisfied with the lack of complaints rolling off Ul'keph's mandibles, although spotting Christopher what appeared to be a cautionary glare. "Father-," Christopher waved his hand and shook his head with firm resolution, "Stay with them, Oliver." Resisting the desire to cause a scene the young teen-prawn submitted under his father's wishes, before Christopher led them through the MNU labyrinth.
Before they would enter the laboratory floor they searched for one of the control centers. Xyl, one of the younger recruits, rushed ahead to see if he could start the main motherboard running up. "Well?"
"Don't worry about it," he scoffed.
"Christopher is more adept in human technology," Aur, a marksman pointed out.
"I have it." His fiddling, and Aur's argument did not reach Christopher. He was pacing the room, sometimes he would think to look into one of the cupboards, within abandoned desks and randomly misplaced boxes. Aur would cover the entrance, but as time allotted them to wait- their commander Sesk idly paced the room, or scan out the windows in a silence and fashion far slower than Christopher's.
When the electronics hummed back into life, a blank computer screen and wiped files greeted them at every click and turn into the mainframe. Only a few cameras sparked back into life but failed to bring up any previous data. Christopher's searching had only yielded shards of disk and computer ware.
Xyl pushed forwards nonetheless, besides the mainframe to the system, individual computers and hardware of the facility awaited dusty and cold, portals to new undiscovered findings they had failed to reach. Despite how young most of these soldiers were, Christopher found himself grateful for their enthusiasm.
"I'll go through them," Xyl protested as Sesk motioned for them to continue. "It won't take me very long."
"Keep us updated," Sesk motioned for Christopher to continue.
"How long will it take for the others to sweep the city?" The hallways remained dark, dank and musky; the laboratory floor several stairs underground. Even so, the trio navigated the stairwell without the use of light. "Several days," Sesk rattled out; growing weary of the stench thickening as they moved. "So far the reports have held; signs of human life remain scarce."
And as it were, every now and then- in the streets, in the rooms there were carcasses. The odd moment would bring them to the lifeless form of their own; but in comparison, the pests enjoyed a feast of human viscera and drying bones.
As the laboratories loomed none of the three spoke as they searched the floors. The first was manageable, the lower they went the more nightmarish it became- simple experiment pieces, mere test tube work and glass slides baring dried and naked sides to their microscopes became stages of fetus development, arms, limbs and distorted flesh pieces suspended in layers of a fluid once mixed.
Xyl called in, signs of Wikus finally appeared – to Christopher's horror and anticipation. The new data led them to another floor with cells, compartments containing starved and rotten bodies of their people. Cell 32, the place that should have held Wikus for whatever torturous means the humans sought to experiment on.
Sesk broke the cell's lock; a dehydrated and curled prawn body lied on the floor. Christopher made quick of his descent on the carcass, prying apart the hands that were clenched together. "This isn't him," his voice shook the air, terrified as he tried to rest the hands together as they were but would no longer budge. Careful hands drew back before he stepped away and moved away from the small group.
"Hey Pops."
"Djurh…"
"I think we got ourselves some company."
"Another unit?"
"No- sir-"
"Well?" Each word became more demanding and short of a fuse after the other.
"It's, ah- a human child, sir."
From across the street the young African girl leaned against ruble, under the slight cover of a bullet worn car and garbage.
"Oliver," snapped Ul'keph, grabbing a hold of his arm and preventing him from going out onto the streets. "Don't, it's unnecessary."
"She's alone, Ul'keph," the grip on his arm released, but Oliver relented nonetheless. "Look at her."
"I don't care." The child, being malnourished appeared bloated- from the scrapes and bruises across her body she appeared confident, if not cautious behind a veil of watery eyes and accumulated dust at its pores.
"Pops should be up in a few," hollered Djurh.
"No, Oliver." He refused to make eye contact, watching the child instead. "She's sick, she needs our help."
"She's also human too," Ul'keph seethed.
"Hey, guys-"
Oliver pushed ahead and started out the entrance, curses followed behind him. His eyes met the young girl who reflected a bottomless pit of emotion before he felt himself being propelled back by a magnificent force. Pins and needles, fire- he felt the rush of heat immediately hit him. Too fast for his nerves to cope, it felt more like being shocked into submission with the incredible, uncomfortable sensation of hard plate and flesh being eaten up and ripped apart by heat.
Notes:
-I was considering coming up with a 'slang' word for father in 'alien' instead of Pops, but I thought of keeping it this way to limit confusion. I've also kept Christopher and Oliver's names the way they are, until a certain point in the story for the same reasons.