I grabbed Big Blue, darting out into the lab.
I hadn't really noticed or thought about it until Big Bird released me from my cell, but someone had removed the face huggers from the tanks, probably for Ripley's benefit. I guess they thought she would freak out and destroy them or something.
As I crept out among the tables and display areas, a horrible thought occurred to me. "Big Bird, I told everyone how I took over this body. Are they going to use...their supply to try to do the same thing?"
"Your statement implies that you believe me." The voice came from a nearby computer, not my room, lending more weight to her story about being a sentient computer program.
"I'm not saying I do yet. I'm just wondering. Would they?"
"If possible, the military and tactical advantages of an army of domesticated Ss'sik'chtokiwij, especially those that can understand human orders, are near limitless."
"So that's a yes."
"Unfortunately, this is a possibility that cannot be dismissed."
"Was Lacy one of their experiments?"
"That information has been removed from my memory matrix."
I saw a flash of memory, of Mara leaning over me with a scalpel.
It was just a blip. The memory was gone before I could process it completely.
Why was she holding a scalpel? What was she operating on? Was it for my benefit, or my harm?
I'd just made her my surrogate mother, but now I wasn't sure if I could trust her. I whimpered.
"How can I trust you?" I asked Big Bird. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"
"Unfortunately, I have presented all the data I have at my disposal. It is ultimately your decision whether or not to trust me."
What if it was just a dream, and no such surgery actually happened? But then again, where did the surgical scar on my head come from? Did I dream that too?
"Did...Mara ever hurt me?" I asked Big Bird.
"That would be against her programming."
"Did she ever operate on me? Surgically?"
A long pause. "Insufficient data."
"You don't know," I groaned.
"Correct."
I sighed. If Mara had done something to me, it seemed that Big Bird wasn't her accomplice. At least, not unless someone had erased something in her memory banks.
I crept up to the security door, which opened as I came near.
Remembering the large amount of tasing incidents, I pressed my back against a nearby wall. "Who's outside?" I asked.
"The corridor is clear of synthetic humans. Agent Max Akers is on guard patrol. Proceed down the corridor to the right immediately, then turn right again, to ventilation access port 9802."
"Wait. What if this Max guy sees me?"
"Proceed down the corridor to the right immediately, then turn right again, to ventilation access port 9802."
I had a giddy feeling, like a dog that had just crawled under a fence and run free. Previously, I'd only seen glimpses of the lab's exterior, but now I not only had to familiarize myself with the environment, but run through it as well.
The corridor had a hexagonal shape, its walls stainless steel, with the austere tidiness you'd expect from a scientific or military installation. No decorations, no `pieces of flair', just a lot of security doors.
Ever since I gained this new body, I've been imprisoned, unable to go anywhere. Exercise was out of the question. Running was something I hadn't had much practice with.
Since my interest had always been protecting human life, I didn't even bother trying to do like those people in all those prison movies, you know, doing pushups and chin ups and all that until they could beat up the warden.
I got winded halfway down the tunnel. By the time I found a connecting passage and turned right, I was panting and leaning against a wall for support.
I'd heard the door to the lab sliding shut as I made my little run. The question was, had Mr. Akers heard it too?
I peeked around the corner, sizing up this person I'd been too busy running to see.
He was bald, muscular, African American, clad in army greens. I observed him approach the door to the lab, now closed. He frowned.
The man pushed a button on his watch, talking into it for over a minute.
I stood in an alcove, in front of another security door. I saw nothing there but the closed door and an air grille.
Big Bird had neglected to bypass the security interface like she did in the lab, because she expected me to follow her directions and climb into the air duct. Unfortunately, she also neglected to take into account the fact that I didn't have any tools with which to remove the grille.
I poked my claws into the bolts, twisting clockwise.
If I still had human hands, it wouldn't have done anything but give me a nasty hangnail, but I knew from firsthand experience that alien claws can rip through human bone, so I actually got one of the bolts to turn.
The thought did occur to me that I might somehow melt through the grating, but I wasn't sure exactly how to go about it. I didn't think far enough ahead to bring along a sugary soda, and while sticking a finger down my throat and tickling my uvula seemed like a logical choice, it didn't work, because I don't have a uvula.
Although it seemed like a clever idea at the time, using my claws as a socket wrench proved to be an uncomfortable, painstakingly slow process.
The grille was dusty. I sneezed.
Okay, I'm not really sure you can classify it as a sneeze, because my body's normal sneezing action happens when I'm sad, when I'm trying to cry. It was more like a laugh, with slime pouring out of a couple pores I sometimes use for breathing. The use of a booger covered claw to undo one of those cheap aluminum bolts was just a happy accident.
I knew alien blood could melt metal, but I wasn't sure about other bodily fluids. The metal in my cells had been specially made so I couldn't really do scientific experiments. Even the toilet was of a special acid resistant material. I burst out laughing when I saw a bolt turning into liquid solder under my claws.
Okay, so it sounded more like purring, but I laughed.
In seconds, I got the remaining bolts melted off, and the register came clanging noisily down.
I trapped the grating against the wall before it hit the floor, but by then I'd made enough noise to alert the guard to my presence.
Mr. Akers whirled on his heels, drawing his stun gun as he came running my way.
[0000]
Author's note: In response to your question, Mariah, I hadn't originally intended to put predators in this story, as it would make it a lot more far fetched than it is already. If they're going to appear at all, it will probably be tacked on to an ending you probably won't see until a few months from now.
