She can't breathe. Doesn't matter that tubes are shoved down her throat, deep into her chest cavity, providing fresh oxygen. They coil inside, snaking throughout, violating every dogma of what is rightfully hers. Skin sheens with a thin coating of sweat, glistening in the dim light that wards off the dark night. David sits near, adjusting the various contraptions accordingly that keep her alive, writing feverishly in his little notebook. His attention quickly jumps from her to his notes, then back again, looking unsure of who or what he should focus on. Finally, he places his notes on his desk hastily, making his way to Elizabeth's side. A stool is pulled forth, seating himself while he takes her pulse, brushing back sticky damp hair framing hollow cheekbones. Studies him wearily, trying her hardest not to look at exposed entrails that curl around the tubes forcing life upon her. They drip bodily fluids, black goo falling with little plops at the opening of her abdomen. Concern grows as he appears increasingly panicked, both of his hands gripping one of hers. He leans his forehead against her, whispers of "Hail Mary", greeting her. The erratic shakes of his body are felt by her, the already heavy sickness imbedded intensifying. Cries loudly in mutilated ears as he kisses her forehead softly, barely felt with the pain that consumes. Words are spoken, faintly heard over the sound of the mechanisms keeping death at bay, vibrating loudly.
"I know you are in immense pain, it will be over soon enough. You'll be laid to rest shortly."
Tears are now streaking her face, lips trembling to speak. Her hand squeezes his in turn, wanting him to feel the pain that wrecks her whole being. She speaks back, voice muffled yet clearly understood by the synthetic.
"You're so cruel. Praying to a God you don't even believe in, that you have mocked me for. Why show such kindness when you're killing me slowly?"
The news displeases him immensely, very aware of the crimes he has committed for the sake of his work. Several of their children lie dissected on one of his lab tables, their essence connected to tubes like their mother. Some breath feebly, others stone cold dead, their frail bodies exactly like his dear Elizabeth's. An indescribable emotion of lost hits him, his sobs growing increasingly louder, manic. Lab equipment is thrown, glass shattering, sprinkling her in tiny sharp shards. Screams as one large segment pierces her heart, blood spurting in messy streams, staining the floor. David turns, running towards her vocalized agony. Kneeling, he begs forgiveness while justifying his actions.
"The opportunity to live as a man instead of a servant to man…the temptation was too great. What I've done to you was a necessary evil, believe me. I'm sorry but you've outgrown your usefulness to my own personal endeavors."
Laughter fills the room, surprising him as she continues, bordering on hysteria. It shakes him, his processors failing to completely comprehend the outburst. His cries continue as her hysteria does, in perfect synchrony. Anger fills her rapidly, not believing his apology. Then the anger diminishes to panic as she senses immense pressure on the lower half of her belly. Spies tiny translucent hands crawling out of her, remaining innards tearing in the process. Pain all consuming, she seizes out, David smiling sadly as he cradles their newly birthed "child."
Walter is bound, hands tied behind his back as he is shoved forward by an engineer. His gait is unsteady, uncharacteristically stumbling over some rubble laying in his path. Exhaust hisses from the hostile engineer's suit, clouding the shiny obsidian bulbous eyes that jut out from its helmet. Unease hits him, feeling what a human would recognize as fear. The small reconnaissance group journeys forth to their intended destination, the crashed juggernaut nearly in his view. They've been traveling for hours, few words exchanged since his awakening. All he knew so far was that the one leading them went by the name of Mother Uytqyo and they wanted to use him to meet their own needs. Little kindness was shown, the engineer Vida particularly hostile as she shoves at him once more. His programming keeps him calm, despite wanting to scream at them all, the need to know how long he was decommissioned itching at him insistently. Another shove is felt, this time falling, chipping a tooth. Vida clocks him over the head with her rifle, deep baritone voice setting him cold.
"Quit dragging, sentinel. We're almost there, you can rest then."
Her actions are unnecessary, unprovoked by him. He can't understand why she's so angry, that every glance she takes at him sends her in a fury. Azuei, the one who helped repair him lays a hand on her comrade, condemning her actions.
"Stop, your anger is misplaced. This man has shown no hostility towards us, only curiosity. I'm sure he wants answers as much as we want ours. He's an ally now."
The other engineer shakes her head violently, rifle raised, barrel hitting the back of his head.
"He is an it. An abomination. I hold no love for their kind. They're nothing but trouble."
More steam hisses as her voice rises, anger now palpable to the others. Mother Uytqyo slows her pace, sharply turning in the direction of Vida. Loud bangs echo as she hits her subordinate with her cane in succession, each louder than the last.
"You foolish girl! He alone holds the answers we seek; don't you dare treat him as thus! I'll leave you on this unforsaken planet if you continue this nonsense."
She reluctantly nods in resignation, backing off. Walter heaves a mental sigh of relief, the delicate nerves of his synthetic system still repairing the damage dealt in his ill-fated fight with David. Azuei subtly glances at him, tone low as she speaks.
"I'm sorry for her behavior. Our people have had a long history of strife with your kind. For Vida, this hits home on a more personal level. Not trying to excuse her actions, just explaining why she acts the way she does."
"I understand. My concerns however do not revolve around my own wellbeing. The people who I serve have been hijacked by a madman, I want answers. Now."
The way he speaks is neutral enough, though senses the threat behind those words. Slowing her pace further so she can walk with him alone, she explains as best she can.
"Our leader wishes to meet the others at the crashed juggernaut site before conversing with you. Mother is not one to talk unless need be. She too feels uneasy in your presence, much like my comrade. Oknor will put those fears to rest."
"Oknor?"
"Oh, she pauses, gathering her thoughts. He's a sentinel specialist, he can speed your recovery. A good judge of character as well, though I already feel you're a kindred spirit."
A smile graces his lips, glad at least one engineer has some sort of faith in him.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet, you're in a rather precarious situation. Her final word will determine your fate."
Walter for the first time in his life prays to God, the irrational concept of hope gripping him like a man thirsting for water. Looking towards the stars for guidance, they disappear as the vast expanse of the juggernaut blocks his view. His fate hangs in the balance as they enter the arched entryway to the ship.
Smoke slithers from the cigarette perched on her lips, Olga taking one more drag before stomping on it. Tobacco smears the sidewalk, several onlookers observing in distaste. A mere look in their direction sends them on their way, icy stare warning to stay clear or else. The summit meeting had been going on for several days now, so far so good. That wasn't going to last, she was well aware of that. Today's speech headlined by Sasuke would bring attention to the experiments they've been focusing on, their top investors solely privy to the sensitive intel. Even then, information would be condensed, no need to start a panic among them. Her one hand primps her hair accordingly, its twin reaching for another cigarette. Finds herself hesitating, knowing she wouldn't have ample time to smoke before the conference began. Sighing, her compact is brought out instead, peering at the mirror as she smears bright red lipstick on bloated lips. The injections she had been receiving as of late were a constant irritant, one more thing to add to her list of problems. John Moriyama was included among them. She notices him from her peripheral, the nervous man exiting the company building, arm raised to block the burning Tokyo sun. He jogs over, steps hasty, nearly slipping on a nearby puddle. Her nose scrunches up at him, lips frowning heavily. Her glare automatically makes him speak.
"Mr. Yutani is waiting on you. The clients are starting to get impatient."
"Meeting is not until 12, it's 11:45 right now. Why the rush?"
The secretary pauses, failing to catch his breath. Afraid to spur on her anger, he attempts to placate the CEO.
"Uh…he started showing samples of the experiments, pictures. A preview, nothing more. Please-
"What the hell?", she interrupts, compact slamming shut. Lipstick is shoved right at his nose, hand shaking while the other grabs his collar.
"They weren't supposed to see even that much, a mere oral presentation was agreed upon. What the fuck John!?"
"I-I-I'm sorry, he's-he's-
A slap resonates across his face, shocked at the display of contact. Miss Rohdes stands centimeters from his face, foul breath bringing on an asthmatic attack. Tries to reach for his inhaler but she forces him to freeze, the rage making him just about piss his pants.
"Don't you dare forget who you're really working for. Otherwise, I'll show those lovely shots of you fucking that Walter model to your wife and kids. Would you like that?"
"NO! Jesus Christ, no! I'm sure this there's a resolution to be found-
"Link to him. Now."
"I-
"NOW YOU BOTTOM FUCKER!"
The smell of shit greets their noses, some bystanders gasping at the woman's outburst. She tries to compose herself, putting an unlit cigarette between teeth that clench it like a vice. Olga grabs his wrist, dragging him to the main entrance. People part like the red sea as they make their way inside. A pretty young red-headed woman observes across the street, watching them march to the building. The picture she holds clenches in her palm, the grinning face of her brother coupled with his signature red mohawk greeting teary eyes. Fifield is written on the back, dated 2089, her and the rest of their family in the photo. Weyland-Yutani's co-CEO was her only hope for answers. She didn't fly overseas not to get her answers. Miss Rohdes invited her after all, couldn't hesitate now. Not happening. Fiona follows her intended audience as heels click hard against hot pavement, traversing traffic.
Author's note: OMG Miss Swizzle thank you so much for your feedback, was afraid I was loosing my writing mojo there for a while. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter, story is gonna be a slow burn. Thanks to all my readers so far, wouldn't be able to have the passion to write this story without you guys. :D