Disclaimer – Okay, folks, my one-shot has grown by one, to where it is now a two-chaptered story, with obvious indications that it will grow into something bigger, that is if the muses remain kind to me and my inspiration to write doesn't tank.

So with that said and without further adieu, I don't own anything other than 'It', Dr. Carlyle, Corporal Rand, and any other OC that I might dream up.

As for the inspiration, well, I give full credit to NASA. If I am in violation of any rules, I am open to correction and, if necessary, I will go back and make the appropriate changes. I only ask that you respect my intent to abide by the rules of 'engagement' and my love of writing, by either telling me via the review window or E-mailing me, rather than go whining to the FF powers, that 'one more fan girl' has rebelliously disobeyed the rules. I have every intention of not doing that, yet – being human – I might err unintentionally. Might I suggest that anyone who has 'tattled' like this, please take into consideration that anyone else breaking said story guideline might be doing so ignorantly. It takes class to bring it to their attention, rather than bringing it to the powers of Fan Fiction's attention.

Also, someone likened this to Andromeda Strain – a truly great work of art by Michael Crichton. That story was the farthest thing from my mind. Therefore, I hope that with this second chapter, it reads more original, but then – with what's already out there either in Fan Fiction or on bookshelves – it's probably a variation on a theme. Anyway, it's just for fun and a vehicle to try something with a little more sci fi drama, which is my favorite genre of entertainment.

With that said, I wish to acknowledge those who reviewed the first chapter – Ninjalara, 'Dot' (the symbol and the only thing that you left behind as to who you are), Lioness-Goddess, Reluctant Dragon, Purple Aussie, Buslady, Ramica, and Pretender Fanatic. Thanks, guys, for reading and taking the time to comment.

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Chapter 2 - It

It waited patiently, hidden within the debris and innocent as the ash that dusted the remains of the craft. Despite its miniscule size, it could easily sense the intelligent life hurrying around the vessel, yet, it continued its current state of inertia. It was still far too dangerous for the entity to announce itself, the strangeness of this new world making it more cautious than curious. For the moment, it would wait; an act that it was used to doing anyway. After all, it had already wandered the vastness of space for far longer than the species outside had existed on this planet. What did it matter if it had to endure another light cycle or two?

Months earlier and before it crashed into the planet's desert landscape, it had become an unwilling passenger of the 'ship'. Its trajectory through space with that of the vessel intersected almost unavoidably. At first, the entity was curious with the object, where its intrigue with the strange metal orb piqued its own sense of adventure. Consequently, it felt compelled to explore the craft's interior, to 'taste' the wires and other components incorporated within. Unfortunately, though, the life form found little from which to gain nourishment.

Nevertheless, it continued its investigation, eagerly scrutinizing the remaining elements of the strange vessel. After at time, however, it quickly and suddenly found itself trapped. Although the entity had many talents, reducing itself to a smaller size than its original shape was beyond its ability. Initially, it had followed the path of a tube, which was more like a large tunnel compared to its original physical state. When it emerged at the opposite end from which it had entered, it found itself abruptly forced into a large cavernous container. At least, to the entity the container seemed large. Yet, just as soon as it realized the situation, however, the opening closed tight and the entity soon found itself trapped. No matter how many attempts it made to extricate itself from the receptacle, the life form soon discovered that it was more a prisoner than not. For, no matter how many times it tried, it could not break itself out from the confinement, the cornering walls of his imprisonment vacuum tight. Its failure frustrated and, at times, angered the entity, but, finally and after repeated attempts to compromise its prison, it resigned itself to its situation and to whatever the outcome would befall it.

In either event, after falling with the probe through the planet's strange atmosphere and then eventually crashing hard into the ground, it suddenly found freedom from its incarceration. The container it had rested in and forced to occupy for so long, now showed many breaks in the corners where once they seemed impenetrable. For the entity, these cracks were wide enough for hundreds of its size to slip through. Just the same, it wasn't in any particular hurry to leave, now. Where the area around the fallen craft seemed surrounded with strange creatures that scurried about, the entity hidden inside was cautiously hesitant.

Consequently, it willingly rested where it was.

Now, it seemed resolved to imitate the white powder of ash, and thereby delay changing its molecular structure, that is until such a time that it could do so undetected. After almost an eternity of existing within the dark shroud of space and wandering aimlessly from one system to another, its sudden and unavoidable contact with the ship had presented a prospect too tempting for it now to ignore.

Therefore, it decided to take advantage of the situation. It was hungry and it needed nourishment, a kind of nourishment that it hadn't experienced for far too long a time. Since its appetite reawakened when it tried to eat the electronic components of the craft, it now wanted sustenance. In sensing a more palatable substance in those moving around the craft, it seemed content, now, torest within its disguise. It was confident that those outside the vessel would see the entity as imperceptible from one speck of ash to another. Therefore, it would wait for the right opportunity to strike and, when it did, it would feast.

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The team of scientists and soldiers painstakingly collected every piece and shard that remained of the nearly destroyed probe. It had taken the better part of a week, with a score of volunteers and paid personnel searching thoroughly amongst the crash site. They collected anything that looked even remotely associated with the project, no matter how small or unobtrusive. As the recovery process worked its way well into its fourth evening, the desert crash site hummed with generator-fed light stands that were large enough to illuminate the entire area to the brightness of day. Still, there was the occasional beam from flashlights that danced sporadically amongst the chaparral, leading some recovery operators beyond the comfort of the larger luminaries as they searched for wayward debris blown clear of the target area.

As he watched the retrieval mission from the rim of the probe-formed crater, one man tiredly ran his fingers through his graying thatch of hair, a thinning, receding mass that hadn't seen a comb in several days. He took a quick sniff along his upper arm and realized that he hadn't seen a shower in as long a time, either, but he had things that were more important on his mind than personal hygiene. He had a problem and a big one, at that.

His dilemma was how to explain this disaster to the authorities? Worse still, how could the pilot of the helicopter have been so negligent that he would miss the recapture of the team's solar experiment? The question persisted and annoyed the man as to why a pilot, one trained for such a task, could miss a target as large as the probe was in the first place. In the beginning stages of planning, it had seemed like such an easy thing to do, a job thoroughly thought out and even rehearsed for weeks - and without a hitch, no less. To have it all end the way that it did seemed ironically unfair. How could someone adept in doing stunts for the movie industry miss a real life target?

Shaking his head, the scientist expressed a long, sustained breath as he sighed in frustration. Yes, indeed, he would definitely have to explain this fiasco. The only thing he could hope for was that some of the information brought back from the mission had survived.

"Dr. Carlyle," a weary, yet eager voice broke through his concerns.

"Yes?" the man replied impatiently, as he turned a bit to face whomever it was approaching him. He noticed right away that it was one of the military, who now stood smartly in front of him and, as soon as they locked eyes, gave a sharp salute before proceeding.

"I think we've recovered everything, sir," the uniformed personnel declared, his posture erect and straight. Dressed in army fatigues and with his face and hands stained with dirt, his tired expression seemed to contradict his strict attention. He seemed young, too, as if right out of basic training.

Dr. Carlyle looked at the man's name, printed along the front of the soldier's right pocket, "Good job, Corporal Rand. Have this area swept one more time; I do not want any discernable evidence for novelty hunters. On the off chance that even a sliver of debris is left behind…"

"Yes, sir, I know. Can't risk contamination, sir," the soldier interrupted, as he made another snappy salute. Then, the young man gave a half turn and hurried over towards where the others were.

"Not that we should worry about that," Dr. Carlyle mumbled under his breath, "It didn't do anything more than circle the sun a few dozen times while it collected data. Still…" the scientist's words trailed off as he watched the soldier jog towards the recovery crew. He listened as the man repeated the doctor's orders about not leaving anything behind, and then watched in weary satisfaction as the team spread out to sweep the area one final time. Carlyle then diverted his gaze back to the depths of the crater, conducting his own visual search for any remaining fragment, as he raked his eyes over the crash site expectantly. He smiled when the only thing he found was charred dirt and scrub brush.

Then, almost in the next moment, Carlyle thought he saw something move. Quirking his head, he stopped smiling and looked harder at the curious spot in the dirt. With the area well lit, it would be hard not to notice any object, foreign or natural. He watched and waited. After a moment of seeing nothing but inert desert sand, and just as he was about to shrug it off as just shifting dirt, the area moved again.

This time, his scientific mind kicked in. The crater was only three feet deep, but the rim itself had a diameter of twelve. Thus, it made traversing into its depth less than dangerous, enticing him down the short, fragile side of the crater and into its maw with little difficulty. However, the sides were still loose and unstable. As the uplifted desert soil dislodged under his feet, it caused him to stumble a bit before he regained his balance once more. Quickly recovering his focus again, he was soon standing close to where he saw movement in the sandy soil. The man eagerly looked for whatever it was that had caught his attention. "Probably a lizard or maybe even an insect," he reasoned silently. Then, he saw it again, only instead of a species of desert fauna, what moved was a…pebble!

"How…could a rock move?" he wondered aloud.

"What moved, Dr. Carlyle?" asked the corporal, who stood once again along the lip of the crater's rim. The young man peered curiously at the scientist, craning his neck and trying to see whatever it was the other man was looking at.

"Oh, ah…" the scientist laughed, almost embarrassed to have been overheard, "I – ah – thought I saw something down here, but…" he gave one more glance at the 'pebble', which seemed inert, now, and then shrugged as he laughed again, "I must be tired, I'm starting to see things." He then shoved his right toe towards the 'rock', kicking it a little to make sure of the fact that it was indeed that and nothing more. Then he sighed as he looked back up at the corporal. Carlyle then began to clamber back up the slanted dirt wall of the crater to join the officer along the rim, careful to keep from losing his balance as he had a moment earlier.

As the scientist reached the lip of the pit, the uniformed man remarked, "Sir, the others are going over the area one more time, as you requested, but Dr. Shafter wants to get back to base,"

"Ah, yes, I'm sure he's as eager as any of us are to see what's left of things. Alrighty then," Carlyle said, "Guess we'd better hit the road and get this junk back home."

With that said, Corporal Rand turned heel and headed towards the two trucks, both filled with the collected debris from the now-ruined probe. Following along behind the officer, Dr. Carlyle proceeded towards the Army transports.

However, the scientist was unaware of the hitchhiker now attached to the toe of his shoe. Had he looked, however, he would never have seen it. The rock, the bit of desert earth, had changed its molecular structure to that of the shoe. Now it blended into and matched the brown leather material that made up the man's right boot, waiting, planning – and feeding.

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