(A/N: this chapter, like the last one, is a flashback from Reihana's memory. It takes place before the previous one, during a time while she is still living in Jumba's laboratory, and before the raid)
Love and Burden
by The Great Red Dragon
Chapter 18
471 sat alone in Jumba's office. Lunch was being served to the other Experiments in the great cafeteria, but she, under special privilege given by Jumba, was allowed to enjoy the mid-day in solitude whenever she liked. She did this often; she wasn't fond of the ever-reoccurring food fights, or the food itself, or the company of 500 and more Experiments all talking, shouting, laughing, and causing one heck of racket.
In Jumba's office, she felt more comfortable. There was no commotion, no irritation, and nobody to jump out and surprise her (that happened a lot, once the Experiments learned of how fearful she could be).
She couldn't help but feel the slightest bit spoiled as she stirred mashed potatoes and fried nakku in her tray; Jumba often shared his menu with her before he ordered from his favorite restaurant.
471 actually had quite a lot of fun when she sat there alone, when Jumba had left the room for some reason. Even though it irritated him, she felt like an important desk job worker as she filed through the mounds of papers that always lay scattered over his desk.
"You might be finding something that vould embarrass me", he warned her every time she did so.
But 471 knew that he'd enforce his words if there was any need to, so she kept up with her attempted cuteness…kept it up until Jumba left for the bathroom, shaking his large head heavily.
Now that there was nobody there to get annoyed at her, she left slightly useless and even a bit lonely…even if Jumba had only left for a while. Aside from her pestering, she was very close to Jumba, and she to him.
With nothing else to do, she lifted plate onto her lap, from its previous resting place on the swiveling chair. She tried to spear the slippery, greasy nakku with her fork, found no effect, and slid the food carefully on top of the fork's cased spears. She lifted it carefully to her mouth, but it slipped off of her fork, and fell sloppily onto the papers on the desk.
"Shoot!", she hissed in both annoyance and immediate urgence; what would Jumba think if he found out that she had messed up his papers?
She hurried to clean it, knocking the tray off of her lap and onto the floor. With another hissed word of curse, she stepped down onto the chair and pulled forth a napkin. Pressing the paper down against the table, she rubbed and scrubbed at the dirtied papers as hard as she could without tearing them.
Muttering stressedly under her breath, she found that she could remove the spots of grease, but the disgusting yellow stains remained.
471 stood up on the chair and crushed the crinkled napkin in her hand, unsatisfied with her clean-up job.
Perhaps, she thought, it'd be the easiest way just to hide the papers…
Of course, she didn't mean to actually 'hide' them, so they'd never be found again, and possibly cause Jumba some toil and money…she just meant to jumble them up and underneath the other documents, so when Jumba was to find them, she could blame the means on some other cause.
It was a bit of shrewd plan, but it coupled with her playful personality; it wasn't a crime, and Jumba would probably pass it with a glare.
So she began shuffling and ruffling papers about, making sure that the stained ones were put out of immediate sight, with a fair amount of other papers over them.
Names and titles of these countless stapled documents fell under her eyes, and were entertaining for the moment they stood in her gaze.
Broad, straight-forward names included "Computer Shipment", "Experiment Statistics", and "Food Delivery", whereas others were simply titled like "File 0967", and "Data Folder 12". Some of them seemed only like little memos that Jumba had decided to write on a folder instead of a sticky note; "Get more spaghetti sauce", "281 wants a new chew-toy (non-flammable)", and "Private dinner tomorrow".
471 checked the date of the last one, and smiled to find out that instead of his supposed dinner-for-one, Jumba had instead rented some videos for the Experiments to watch in the theater; it hadn't been long ago.
She became so involved with each folder and paper that she picked up that she was unaware about a certain red, ominous-looking folder that slowly moved towards her hand as she pulled the documents towards her. She would've noticed it sooner if not every folder she picked up prompted her to look into it, but it was sure enough that her reaching hand pulled it towards her after a short amount of time.
She was immediately intrigued by the envelope; it's more-than-uninviting crimson color and the words "Private, Confidential" stamped across it simply growled of its own mystery. As 471 picked it up, she felt that it wasn't heavy at all. As a matter of fact, it was almost empty.
She opened the folder slowly and cautiously, as though she knew it concealed a type of bomb that could go off at any second. Inside, she found no papers or other documents of any sort…only a single black floppy-disk in the folder's crease.
Handling it even more carefully than the folder before, she lifted it out of its crease and held it up between two fingers.
Immediately, the intensity of the mystery grew. This disk, unlike the others, was not so extensively and fully labeled on its white-paper section that Jumba had run out of room writing it. It was not scratched on the plastic that suggested that it had been put into use too many times to count. On the contrary, it looked quite new.
On its label, only three numbers indicated to what information or data it held: "541".
471 immediately assumed it was an Experiment's number. The second thought to her brain was: are there even 541 Experiments?
She knew that there were definitely more than 500, but she wasn't sure how many. It was impossible to personally know all of them, so there was almost no manual way of keeping track; she would've been surprised if Jumba didn't have all of their information and numbers saved on a computer. Nobody could memorize all of them.
…Then again, Jumba considered them his children, so maybe his fatherly-love provided him with that type of memory…
But that didn't really matter at the moment; she was more interested about the information on the disk she held. Was it labeled with the number of one of Jumba's Experiments? She could ask around, and see if there was an Experiment 541 out there, roaming the hallways like all the others?
She and her prodigious mind decided there was not time for that either; she wanted to know right now.
There was a computer sitting on the edge of the desk she was sitting on. It was one of Jumba's personals. 471 slid herself over to it and clicked on the screen, and found out that the computer was already loaded; it was just in a 'sleep' mode. Delicately, she slid the disk into the slot, and immediately a grey-colored bar appeared on the screen, reading;
"Loading…please wait."
As it did this, 471 felt a certain uneasiness in her chest and gut. She just realized that she was snooping in on Jumba's private work…stuff that was potentially important, and was marked so for a reason. Worse, Jumba had always trusted her with his files, documents, and folders, believing that she understood enough that this work was important to him, and much of it was for her not to invade.
The worst feeling in the world would have been Jumba being disappointed about her, and rethinking her reliability as a companion. 471's expression turned to a frown…and she immediately decided that if there was even the slightest hint of anything seriously confidential, she would abandon her looking and put the disk and folder back right where she found.
As she came to her decision, the disk had finished loading ("Load complete!"), and another bar flashed up on the computer's screen…one that was definitely 'seriously confidential': in a text-box that was as dangerously red as the folder that had held the disk, were the words:
"WARNING! YOU ARE ABOUT TO VIEW FILES THAT ARE STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL – PLEASE TYPE IN THE PASSWORD"
A smaller, white text box appeared below the ominous red one, with a tiny cursor blinking at the left end.
Instinct told her to stop immediately, to press the 'cancel' button and return the disk to its original place. This was definitely something she should not be looking into…this was a boundary Jumba hadn't wanted even her to cross, and it was obviously for a reason, if it required a password.
…But…
Something…for some reason…it nagged at her relentlessly, even as she sat there, with the intimidating cursor flashing in front of her like a bullying piñata.Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that in Jumba's care and personal pampering, she had never become used to any special rules…they had never really been set for her.
A war of shoulder-angels and shoulder-devils waged on top of her for a time…the victory was that of neither; she would press on ahead, but if her eyes caught hold of anything (else) that was remotely private-looking, she'd turn back and put everything back the way she'd found it…this seemed just a bit unrighteous to her, but it was nothing to cross her curiosity.
471 looked back up at the computer. The need to put in the password was still there, but she knew a pretty-sure way around it…a trick she had learned from one of the nicer (and definitely one of the handier) Experiments that literally 'confused' computers and software-systems long enough to find a 'loophole' to slip through, passed the security.
She did this now; she entered a password that the Experiment had told her took universally longer to check, identify, and register, even though it wasn't even a real combination.
471 typed in the magic letters, numbers, and symbols, and pressed the 'okay' button.
The computer, so advanced and speedy that it could sort through and detect any other false password instantaneously, actually halted…and yet another grey text-box appeared, reading simply; "Please wait…"
471 took this time, as her friend had instructed her, to pull up the manual-instruction box: cntrl, alt, dl - cntrl, alt, dlt - cntrl, alt, dlt…
It happened: up popped the manual-control. Quickly, she feverishly moved her hands over the keyboard at amazing speed; it was necessary to be quick if you planned to outsmart a near-supercomputer.
It took several minutes, at which every second she feared that Jumba was going to re-enter the room. Constant motion had to be kept; every time the computer went to confirm a new input she had given, she had to rapidly enter a new code – just wait for it, wait for it, wait for it…
Suddenly, it happened: the computer became confused long enough to allow a three-second window…and she dove through it with a mouse click and the 'enter' button.
She had done it!
"Access confirmed! Opening information on disk…"
471 felt a certain sort of self-pride rise up in her; it was the first time she had accomplished this task of hacking by herself…even if it was to break a rule and enter Jumba's privacy…
It took barely seconds for the data to be read and organized…the displayed results were just as ominous as she could have expected.
As red as any horror movie, a title page displaying the same heading as the disk, 'Experiment #541', appeared dominantly above a long series of discreet text and file numbers.
471 leaned in close, and as she did, as if it were a picture show, the screen changed images. Next, situated in front of a completely black background, several neon-green skeletal-designs of Experiment-type stature were displayed vertically, horizontally, and from many different angles.
The title above the pictures, as before, read 'Experiment #541'. She clicked on to the next picture, which displayed not only the design of the skeleton, but also a true-color animated layout of an Experiment's muscular structure.
Small lines of indication pointing at certain parts of the body (skeletal and muscular) were placed away from underlined, plainly-described descriptions.
By now, 471 was fascinated. Was this the outline for one a new, enhanced Experiment? She checked several of the text-boxed descriptions…and found that all of them were type in a type of pidgin Turian that she could not read.
Several of the letters and characters she recognized, but the italics and letter-mods made the alphabet as unfamiliar as Greek.
A few of the words were identifiable: 'strength', 'muscle', 'agility', and other themed words of the sort. 471 wondered if the text-boxes pointed out specialties of the Experiment's physical abilities.
Several other Experiments she knew were amazingly strong, fast, or athletically-gifted in some way…what was this Experiment's ability.
She clicked on: a front-view, profile-view, and angled-view of the Experiment, with the computerized muscle over the green, animated bones, this time with a computer-made system of lines that outlined where the flesh would be. 471 recognized large, oval-like ears, a large nose, and huge eyes, like inflated almonds.
It was the basic Experiment-structure…so what was special about this new addition?
More text-boxes that pointed towards the eyes, nose, ears, and mouth indicated words that suggested superior vision, hearing, etc…but she still couldn't understand or translate the half of it.
She clicked again…
The next slide was gripping: an amazingly colorful illustration depicting, in a dramatic pose, what could only have been the Experiment suggested by the previous images.
…Something about this vividly-colored, anime-style portrait infatuated 471. She leaned in for a better look.
Whoever the artist had been must've had nothing less than a monster in mind when he illustrated this picture. 471 had known many Experiments who were often subject to angry behavior, even naturally ill-tempered. But none could have ever matched the picture in front of her in the computer screen. The picture no longer resembled the Experiments that Jumba made, to develop their own personality, for better or for worse, and still loved them.
The creature in the picture was beastly; claws longer and sharper than she had ever seen, and protruding from its back were spines like sharp iron tongs. Four awfully-muscular arms held gigantic firearms, each of them smoking, with the smoke drifting up into the monster's face, over a large, snarling mouth from which protruded teeth so sharp and mismatched, they could have only been Hell's creation.
The creature had no pupils in his eyes. Only white, that meant the blind rage in any creature.
"…Good God, Jumba", 471 thought towards her creator/father.
"What are you doing?"
She wasn't sure if she wanted to click on to the next screen…but the ambition and curiosity that gave her the ambition to break the rules in the first place now gave her need to see what was next…she clicked on.
The slide she saw now was…surprisingly different in comparison to the previous one.
It was the actual Experiment, from the computer-generated designs and from the graphic illustration, this time in actual pictures…two, to be exact.
The Experiment, tinted by grey, was shown as if he were a prisoner: a close-up of his head in profile and front-view.
471 looked closely at the Experiment, even more intently than she had at the horrific picture. What she saw was nothing at all like the monster the illustration had depicted…the dark, plain face showed no sign of hate or cruelty. The Experiment's eyes were shiny but seemingly suppressed…he looked very neutral, but only towards the camera that had taken his picture.
…The picture from before resembled the Experiment she saw now…but it didn't look like him, at all…perhaps the picture drawn by the artist before was simply an impression of him…or something of the sort.
471 looked into Experiment's motionless, camera-captured eyes…they were not hateful, nor filled with rage, or any other sign of hostility that the picture had suggested; they were tired, and exhausted…but not weary. More like a durable long-distance runner that had spent half of his energy after a triathlon…the Experiment had been intentionally exhausted before his picture had been taken. She didn't know how she knew that…but she did.
The photos intrigued her greatly, to no low heights…but there was another button on the screen to click on. She did.
The next page puzzled her the most. With the title that she could make out as 'Experiment Number 541', there was a very long and lengthy page of the strange, pidgin language; a series of reports, it seemed. 471 scanned through the dozens and dozens of sentences and paragraph, catching and deciphering a word or two here and there…'Experiment', 'demand', 'corporation', and several more of the same.
What is this all about, she thought. Mysterious outlines and pictures of an Experiment, supposedly number 541? 471 put her hand to her mouth thoughtfully, even though there wasn't much for her to figure out. What was Jumba doing? What the Hell was Jumba doing?
…Her eyes fell upon five words that seemed to stand out from the others. As said before, she could barely read the modified Turian, but the five words she saw now stood out in particular…like coming across Chinese symbols in an English textbook.
She could read the letters and piece them together, but had no idea what they meant; these five phantom words that seemed to glow with a feeling of omnity, like the red folder and the titles of the pages on the computer.
'Zimbel', 'Kalma', 'Chatturgha', 'Turok', and 'Kane'.
She could find no sense in these words, placed next to eachother in order purposely. She had no idea what they could mean…but somehow, they seemed like names to her…
She saw then, as she scrolled down to the bottom of the page, and soon noticed that there was one more page to click on to. She moved the cursor over the button and clicked.
This last page was almost empty. But against a dark background, as with the other pages, with letters in a grayish-white color, there stood the words, completely readable to her;
'CODE: 1=PYSIJ1I7, 2=Q1877KLB'
"A code?", she thought to herself.
"To what?"
She didn't know to what…the only code consoles she knew of were on the faraway exits to the lab and in the kitchen; to make sure that no Experiments ever left the lab unsupervised, and to make sure that nobody was sneaking tomorrow night's desserts from the fridge. The purpose of these security precautions were understandable…but to stick the need of a security pass code onto something already so dark and gothic stretched it right into the means of being something dangerous…a foreign prospect in Jumba's lab, which he strived to make the safest place in the universe for his Experiments.
But who was 541? Why hadn't she ever seen him before? Why were his outlines and only pictures stored on a protected disk? What did the five mysterious names mean? What was this new double-code for?
All of her questions could not be answered by the limited information she knew. But she wanted to know…she decided that she would ask Jumba.
"No! I can't do that!", she realized an instant later.
She had gone through Jumba's top-secret personals, and even infiltrated through a password that was designed to keep others (including her) out…it would sound much more than strange if she suddenly began questioning him about the mystery-Experiment on the computer.
No, she couldn't let him know what she had done…as much for the sake of his trust as for the sake of her own hide.
She tore off a piece of a near-empty memo-sheet and copied the numbers and letters of the code with a pen…just the, she heard the hissing-slide of the door being opened; Jumba was back.
In a white lab coat, he stepped towards her slowly, immediately wary at what she was doing in front of the computer.
"…471?", he said curiously.
"Vhat are you doing?"
471 turned around on the swivel chair and faced him innocently.
"Just checking out a website", she replied to him.
He nodded, unsatisfied, and stepped closer. He leaned over her shoulder and took a look at the screen.
A bluely-lit, silver-lined screen advertised the latest style of boots and shoes ("At a price so low, even trogs must lean backwards to get under it!").
He glanced at her with an expression of suspicion.
"You do not even vear shoes…"
"I know", she replied.
"But that doesn't mean that I can't keep up with trends, does it?"
Jumba sighed…perhaps in both exasperation and relief.
"No, no, it does not", he said.
"But…take your plate to zhe garbage, aright? Lunch iz over."
She nodded obediently and hopped off the chair. Grabbing the tray of long-cold food, she landed softly on the floor; Jumba had clicked off of the website and was now going through the many scattered folders on the desk. She quickened her steps towards the door. As she got there and opened it, she heard the rustling of the folders stop; Jumba's breathing seemed to stop as well.
"471?"
She turned, and did her best to hide a look of anxiety.
Jumba was looking at earnestly. Not angrily, but in a way of great concern…this time, however, it was the strongest she had ever gotten.
Also, he was holding on to the edge of the dark-red folder, where she had hurriedly managed to stick the disk back into.
"471", he said again in uneasiness.
"You didn't…didn't by any chance take a look…I mean…look into…you didn't…did you…"
He stopped himself. She knew what he wanted to ask her…but he didn't want to open the subject, unless he was sure that she already knew something.
He wasn't sure, and therefore didn't want to say anything…giving 471 another reason to remain suspicious about the mystery.
"What is it, Jumba?"
Jumba finally stopped trying to say what he couldn't, and finished with an exasperated sigh and a look of exhaustion.
"Just…stay out of trouble, vould you?", he asked in a small plead.
"Stay out of trouble, because your life iz important to me."
She smiled genuinely at him.
"I love you, too, Jumba."
"Yes", he said, with a somewhat-sarcastic nod.
"I love you very much, too. Now get out my hair."
"You don't have any hair."
"Out."
She did as she was told and hurried out the door. As she closed it, she could hear Jumba doing some more rustling among the folders. She wondered if he was going through the red one she had seen.
471 walked down the plain, silver hall and deposited her unfinished food in a metal waste-drum. Several more halls away, she could hear the sounds of commotion and laughter of the other Experiments as they left the mess-hall. She'd soon meet them as they came her way, in destination of the dormitories, the library, the gym, the arcades, the pool, and all the many other places of recreation that Jumba had provided them with.
She would, however, not spend the rest of the day lounging about like the rest of them…at least not in the usual states of fun or boredom. 471 unclenched her fist, and unwrinkled the small slip of paper that the two codes had been written on. She read them clearly, and resolved herself to find the place to input the codes. She had little doubt that the place to do so was inside the lab somewhere…and she had to find it.
She didn't know why she had to…but it seemed necessary: there was an Experiment to find, and a mystery to solve.
(A/N: I hope that was enjoyable. I originally intended to have this chapter and the next be one whole one, but that was kinda inconvenient for two reasons. First of all, it would've been so long, it might've interrupted the flow of the story. Secondly, I didn't want to keep y'all waiting for that long…
In this chapter, I'd like to point out that Reihana is obviously less mature than she is in the future. This is probably because she has not been exposed to much hardship, and is very favored and somewhat pampered by Jumba. Expect her to gain some experience in life in the next chapter…
On another note, I'd like to stress that I didn't think that this chapter was as good as I could've made it. I would've preferred to give much more insight into the information on the disk, but my mind was a-blank at the time I wrote…sorry.
Okay…my reply to my reviewers!
piewolvesandsuch – thanks a lot for your compliments. I'm beginning to feel much more at ease with the last chapter…
WolfAmArOrq – don't worry; the future may still hold hope…
raVen – how can the Experiments walk around? Well…I never really thought of that, but I'm considering that in a wide, wide universe, and among countless numbers of different alien species, it would be more than easy to blend in, if they weren't obvious. You understand?
BlueFox – thanks a lot. I love you, too!
That's it for now. Hang on for a while until I get the next chapter up, ASAP, okay?
See ya!)