NOTES: Ah, too excited for this. Another chapter!
Warnings: Mild violence, including some humiliation, language, and alien sexuality (in terms of reproductive capabilities, not the actual act; brief mention)
~ R.R
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3 hours
Three hours had passed. All together is seemed like an eternity for Desmond.
Footsteps and human yelling; the ka-ching and clack of gunfire followed by dull thuds, or the crunch of exoskeleton splitting.
The residents in this section did not have alien weaponry to defend themselves. These were not the gang areas that had smuggled as much as they could from the tunnels. But some of them would fight regardless; the same feeling he had felt before it started, that rage, the harmonized flood of emotions singing strongly against his breast.
But he remained fearful, agitated. Perhaps his 'human' instincts were still in-tuned.
Footsteps reached the tent opening. For now their section appeared rather quiet. Again, if there had been any struggles it ended quickly with gunfire, and the distinct yelp or uncertain whirl of the prawns about.
"Section E 2-340. Christopher Johnson and Desmond Stewart; out of the tent, now! Hands in the air!"
Shakily he got up. Theo's sad face lingered on him as Christopher led them out. Not once did he glance back at Desmond, not once to reassure by a glance or a pat on the back. As if he was completely on his own now.
"Fucking prawns-. " The man grumbled underneath his breath. His glare shot at him. "Hands up, now!"
He brought them higher, albeit painfully; they would not last the strain for more than a few minutes. As of now his chittering sounds would not stop, leveling on a volume that obviously annoyed the man at the head of the inspection. Some of his gunmen noticed; the ones who were not preoccupied or suspicious of the movements about them. Shark teeth flashed as they grinned, gaggled as they passed dialogue.
Strangely Desmond was having trouble hearing; and the inspector's voice just about made sense. The rest was background sound, dull and washed up in nonsense.
"On your knees." Another command.
Christopher and he complied. Not once did this remind Desmond of his past life. Not now; he was far too involved to even glimpse into those dark and sordid thoughts.
The inspector sighed, going through his paper work. Glancing at Christopher, checking something off, and then to him.
"Do you have any children?"
"Yes." Desmond responded at about the same time as Christopher. The man pursed his lips.
"One at a time, yeah? Christopher Johnson, any children?"
"Yes."
"Registration number and name?"
"82347 RT, Oliver Johnson."
"Good. And Desmond Stewart?"
He panicked. He didn't remember the registration number; why would they expect them to know?
"I… I do not remember the… the registration number."
"Alright…" The way the inspector intoned that word made him feel sick.
"I know." Christopher declared.
"672 WH 73, Theodore Stewart." The inspector went about his paperwork, curtly nodding.
"You two a couple or something?" He snorted, amused.
"No," Christopher responded. "Friends."
"Sure. We'll have the children out now."
"Oliver!" Christopher called. After a few seconds his boy appeared, holding Theo who screeched uneasily at the humans.
"The devil's loud." One of the guards spoke, bearing a sneer across his face.
"On your knees, beside him." The man pointed to Christopher, and continued.
"Is there any contraband or illegal alien weaponry I need to be made aware of?"
Christopher spoke for them.
"No."
"Again, if there is anything suspicious found in your tent, there will be consequences. Is there anything we should be made aware of?"
"No."
"Okay. Guys; keep your eyes on them. Rob, let's do this."
"Aye, sir."
Two guards watched them. Their guns faced side long, but remained in their hands.
"Can't you shut up the bloody thing?"
Oliver looked warily at them, and spoke before his father could and shook his head in response.
"He's frightened."
"Can't the shit stand on his own?"
"Yeah, unless there's something wrong with it."
The previous guard, amused by this gestured at Oliver with his gun. Desmond could see Christopher flinching, as if nearly holding back his instincts to attack the human.
"Let's see, yeah? Just put it down. It's a wonder it's still alive."
Rummaging could be heard from their tent, but it mattered not. Desmond's uneasiness pushed into his throat; he stifled a cough and swallowed hard.
"Please." He said suddenly.
"Leave the child alone, please…"
"You hear that? Prawn's giv'n us orders now."
"C'mon, put the little shit down." The one man roared.
Oliver looked nervously at his father, all sharp and tense, brooding. The prawn huffed uneasily from his gills and nodded once. His gaze landing on the men; watched them carefully.
"Right 'ere." He pointed with his rifle, a spot just outside of their reach.
Oliver whimpered, cooed briefly to Theo before placing him down. Reluctantly shifting back to his place with eyes downcast.
Theo continued to clack and screech. On his rump, as he looked at all their faces. Too frightened to move, his hands fumbled at one of its feet to grip on to. Nervously pawing at itself, as if trying to figure out why no one wanted to pick him up.
"It's kind of fat, ain't it? For a prawn?" The man chuckled. He was about to nudge it with the butt of his gun, to get it going. Desmond couldn't stand for it though, and he lunged murderously for his child, hissing at them as he sheltered Theo.
The men startled; guns aimed together at his head.
"Leave him alone!"
He shook as he squatted over Theo. Issuing out verbal threats.
By then, other inspectors and guards had noticed. Some had stopped, readied their guns to assist the men if it came to that.
The inspector opened the tent's flap.
"Well, everything checks ou-, the hell is going on?!"
The man stood just outside the tent. Desmond whipped his head after him, just about scooped Theo up and stilled. Clutching the child to his chest and whirling sharply.
"I told them to stop!" He spat.
The inspector shifted his gaze from Desmond to the guards.
"Can we put the guns down, please."
"But sir! We didn't-"
"Fuck, like I care! Put them down… now." The man said evenly.
"For god's sake…"
He tip-toed around the prawns and shook his head. Stepping up to one of the guards he jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Did you read the fucking manuals man? You don't touch the children, unless they've got no reason being there, eh?"
The guard clenched his jaw, and glared at the inspector. He said nothing.
"Well then. You're good; go back to your tent."
Desmond got onto wobbly legs and darted back in, slightly hunched over. Oliver followed after, Christopher behind them.
They could hear the same group interrogating and inspecting the tents beyond their own.
Desmond however, collapsed into the nest and rocked Theo protectively in his arms.
"Are you mad?!" He accused Christopher.
"You let them… traum… traumatize him like that?!"
Christopher would have remained silent, but he turned around and glared at the prawn from the nest.
"Well?! If it had been Oliver, would you have done the same thing?"
Christopher's glance seemed impartial to him. Guarded, but Desmond was beyond the subtle differences.
"Fokk you…" He smoldered at him. "Fokk you Chris! Fokking prawns…"
He continued to rock Theo, who whimpered in his arms. Held on to him, as if it had been the only thing that kept him from throwing his life away at those guards. How easy it would have been to charge at them, to let the cacophony of bullets aimed his way explode off.
Oliver remained quiet; huddled on his side to the farthest corner in the nest.
That night they slept separately. Desmond kept Theo to himself and his back to Christopher and Oliver.
He spent most of the night stroking the child's face, in a sort of half-dream daze.
Feeling sick, and nervous as he outlined the small plates of the child; slowly the day's events, and the previous night sunk in. Centered about Theo, finding some sort of satisfaction that he could sooth the child; provide respite and room for the simple thing to find rest, and sleep.
His flesh and blood, he thought in a nearly bitter air. A genetic replica, there was no use denying it.
It still pained him, that he had made the mistake of indulging himself too much during the last heat. Or rather, 'breeding season', as it was so plainly termed… He couldn't completely recall the event itself, all the previous heats – only two that he had experienced – had not been so bad. But Oliver had molted into his adult form, and it made the need to copulate that much stronger.
Not only had he condemned himself to a life of a prawn, but he had also condemned another life. So closely attached to him. Even now as he watched him sleep, and brushed gentle fingers across his boy; he felt sick and haunted by the thought that this creature was dependant on him.
His thoughts drifted back to Tania, which appeared to be a recent haunt now that he had heard news of her.
But these thoughts only came with emotions. Too tired to formulate words, or plans, the what ifs of their future; it was too uncertain to think about.
Weary and fraught with doubts Desmond finally fell asleep half-way through the night.
4 days after.
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The food had not arrived for four days. Thankfully the water continued to run, and Christopher had stored some meager leftovers for such an occasion.
Inside the tent was more subdued than usual. Desmond didn't speak to Christopher directly, and avoided looking at him. This infuriated Desmond, because Christopher did not seem to respond to this in either way. Oliver remained hesitant, and that made him adept to childish outbursts.
With no sign of the humans, he wandered out from the tent as much as he could. Relinquishing Theo into Oliver's hands, and forgetting, once again, that he had a responsibility for the child; more than either of the prawns who, in all their alien grace, took care of the child like one of their own.
But rarely would he ever see Christopher with Theo after the incident.
At least in his presence.
He had noticed on his walks that MNU had erected small towers with cameras about the district. Protected by an electrical fence strong enough to deter the most calloused members of the colony; no one would touch them.
Without having to walk in its deepest parts he understood that the population had been downsized.
Rumors spread; more like truths between the people as word of this new infliction continued to anger them. But also, grief for their losses. Bodies of the dead prawns had been carried away by the humans; the considerable man power sent to inspect the district had only taken 3 days in total. Children who were not registered were taken, apparently into a 'holding room' to await registration to other prawn families. Among them the teenagers and the rare adult who had forged their registration or had none.
None of them had been returned.
When he retired to the tent after only a short stroll, Christopher regarded him.
"Desmond."
He turned to face him, eyes sharp and stubborn.
"Can we talk?"
He shrugged.
"Outside?"
Antennae flicked in annoyance. But after four days it seemed just about the right time to cool off. Perhaps he was ready to speak to him, no matter how foolish he'd been on his part.
Christopher got up from the ground, whirled to his son – playing with Theo – and walked out with the MNU 3 L container.
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"How are you feeling?"
An odd question.
"Fine."
Answered with a lie. Despite how long they had been with each other, Desmond felt no need to be transparent with Christopher.
"The humans have nearly broken us."
"What do you mean by that?"
The prawn seemed to pause for a moment.
"There are three gangs that have nearly been destroyed. I suspect they will form an alliance with the Yu'kesh. They only reported minor losses. Only a few elders remain, and many children were taken."
"Why are you telling me this?" He sounded annoyed, cross.
"You were human once. I value your insight from such motives."
Desmond snorted. The prawn thought he was valuable by this one aspect, the thought was laughable.
"And?"
"What did your friend mention to you, before we left?"
He shrugged, about to say something before he thought on it more.
"Something about the UN, and… alien rights activists I suppose." He paused.
"How the hell did he get thrown into all of this?"
"The tunnels, the ones we used allowed us to communicate with allies. Human allies."
"You never mentioned this to me." He pouted with a sharp trill.
"We did not think it appropriate. You never mentioned allies of your own."
"What about my wife? She's been involved with this… this nightmare. And you didn't feel necessary to mention that to me?"
He said this slowly for the amount of words it took to say it. Some of the words slurring together, not quite distinct; Christopher took a moment to respond.
"I do not understand."
"My wife, she's been fighting for you prawns."
And me, he thought quietly.
"We were not aware of this. There were only a few people we contacted. None of these people mentioned your wife's name." The prawn paused, setting the container down.
"Tan'nniah?" He clicked in between.
"Tania." He grunted. Not much different from Christopher's attempt.
"Did your friend mention anything specific?"
Desmond shrugged; a purely human gesture.
"No. It sounded like the UN was putting more pressure on MNU though. Doesn't really mean anything…"
Christopher glanced at one of the video surveillance cameras.
"They will know something is wrong when are contacts cannot reach us."
"What were your plans?"
Christopher took a moment to consider this question.
"Recognition, help… The signal might push them to act sooner."
"Why?"
Gives an amused look.
"What do you suspect, Desmond?"
He wasn't going to answer; he wasn't a child. But he relented regardless.
"Well, fear most likely."
Christopher nodded.
"Your sensors should be able to detect the signal. It's very powerful now. The other countries will be made aware of it."
He filled the container up, nearly done.
"It pulses out from the ship. It will cause mild disturbances throughout the planet."
"That'll make people angry… depending on what you mean by 'mild' disturbances."
"We will see. But now all of your peoples will know, to some degree. At least your powerful nations will."
"Why didn't you just do this when you first came?" Wouldn't it have been obvious?
He started walking with the container, Desmond now forgetting about the incident. At least for now, it was buried in some recess of his mind.
"We were all sick, including myself… I did what I could at the time; because the ship had quarantined us. I did not possess the clearance to get out. You humans offered us hope, and we did not expect your ulterior motives."
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…TBC! Reviews much appreciated; tell me what you think!