And this chapter contains another Jurassic Park reference!

Chapter 44

The Maw

The facility's entrance had a small lobby, with nothing of significance in it aside from a couple of ancient, laughably visible video cameras attached to the ceiling, and what might have been a security checkpoint.

A few branching hallways extended from the 'lobby', and Adrien said, "Which way should we go?"

"Left," Alexei said, moving in that direction. No one followed.

"Means we should go that way," Adrien said, pointing at the hall to the right.

They traveled down the corridor, footsteps echoing and kicking up dust. Every shadow seemed magnified, eerie.

Katja walked by a closed door, then stopped and backed up, swinging her goggles until they focused on the name etched into the glass.

Facility Director

Fedor Mikhailov

She had irrefutable proof, now. Her father had been involved with this. Perhaps most of it. The experiments, the drills, the weaponization.

"Kat? What's wrong?" she heard Adrien asking. Right. He couldn't read the script.

Her hand went to the door handle, but naturally it was locked.

"Blue? I need to get in here, please," she requested. To Adrien's quizzical expression, she explained, "This was my father's office. I just– there might be something important in here. I… he…"

"It's ok, let's just be quick about it," Adrien replied.

Three red dots appeared on the door, and it suddenly exploded, making Katja jump. She had expected Blue to kick the door in, not shoot it.

Regardless, no serpents swarmed them.

Cautiously, Katja led the group through the hole in the wall, into the office–

No, it wasn't an office. Rather, it appeared to be a reception area, with a couple of dingy, faded sofas and a coffee table. The real office was probably behind the heavy, bulletproof-looking door that was installed in the back of the room.

In the far corner of the reception room was a desk with a clunky, boxy computer and old telephone sitting on the surface. Beside the desk were two enormous filing cabinets.

Katja noticed a small nameplate next to the computer, and her breath caught in her chest. Rushing over, she picked it up. 'Mila Zakharov'," she read aloud, swallowing hard. Was this for real?

"I'm sorry, who is that?" Adrien questioned, clearly wondering why she was so fixated on a random secretary's desk tag.

"She was my mother," Katja said to the suddenly silent room. "My biological mother."

"Really?" asked Adrien. "She… worked for your dad?"

Blinking, Katja stood frozen, still staring at the name plate. "I guess… I, I mean… I don't know. He never told me that. I always assumed she was someone he met once or twice at a bar, or something like that. But this is her name. It can't be a coincidence."

Circling the desk, Adrien opened a drawer and started rifling through it. "Found a picture ID," he announced. "It's a woman's. Want to take a look, Katja? I can't read the name."

"I…" she faltered. Why was she hesitating? Finally, she was going to see her mother, something she'd been waiting for ever since she was a child.

But somehow the idea of walking the few steps and taking the ID was intimidating her, far more than even the Queen hidden in the building.

"Here," Adrien said, coming to her and pressing the card into her hand, ultimately taking away the choice.

Slowly, Katja turned it over and looked at it.

It was surprisingly simple, for a government issued ID. But at first, all Katja could see was the photo.

Mila had wavy, dark blonde hair, pulled back into a half-updo. It was moderately teased, like she was trying to mimic the western fashion of the decade, but not quite daring to go all the way. Also like an American, she was smiling boldly into the camera; a unique choice given her employment and its culture.

She was as beautiful as Katja had once dreamed; with large, expressive eyes, dimples in her cheeks, and an aura of joy that was obvious even in the still frame.

She also looked very young.

Katja's eyes drifted over to the rest of the ID. The identification had been issued in 1985, giving Mila's birth date as June of 1965, which meant she had only been twenty – if that – when the photo was taken. Why had she come all the way out here, just out of her teens, to be buried alive in this nightmare?

Something then struck Katja. She had been born in 1992, which meant her father had known Mila for at least six years before Katja had been conceived.

Somehow, that made her feel worse than if it had just been a random hookup. What had happened between them? Just a workplace affair? Why had he done it? Why had Mila agreed to it? Her father was so much older…

"Katja, is it her?" Adrien asked. "Is it your mother?"

Giving a nod, Katja went back to examining the photo. "I think so. I mean, I never saw her. But I think so."

"She's very pretty," Adrien said, coming back around and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I bet this is a lot to digest, huh, kid?"

"I mean, yeah," Katja mumbled. Fedor could have told her, if he'd wanted. Could have told her so many stories, so much about Mila's personality and interests and dreams. But he hadn't.

He'd acted like he barely knew her.

"I wanna see a hot mom!" Alexei complained, sliding up and snatching the ID. Blue moved beside Alexei to examine it with him.

Katja felt like someone had just torn a piece of her away, and her hand went to her braid. Adrien must have noticed, because the hand that was on her shoulder was suddenly moving her, steering her towards the desk drawers.

"Should we see if we can find something else?" he invited. "We'll be sure to take the ID with us, obviously."

"I suppose that's a good idea," Katja answered. It was unlikely that the desk of a secretary would contain anything important; but this was a personal curiosity.

In one of the top drawers, she discovered a handwritten letter.

Hello, Mila darling,

I hope you are still well. I received your letter, but much of it was redacted. However, I did read that your new boss is kindly and well mannered, so I am relieved to hear that, with you so far away and alone. I…

Katja hurriedly scanned to the bottom, curious as to who had sent Mila the letter. It was signed, Your Mother.

Katja's grandmother. She fleetingly wondered if the woman could possibly still be alive, and regretted that she hadn't signed with her name.

In any case, she found it odd that Fedor had been described as 'kindly and well mannered'. Mannered, maybe; but kindly? He must have been putting on an act for Mila.

She stuffed the letter in her vest to read more closely later.

Hearing a chuckle from Adrien made Katja turn her head.

"Look at this! A music box. My mom has one of these. I was kind of obsessed with it as a kid." He twisted the wind-up key on the bottom, then flipped the object over and placed it on the desk.

On top of the base of the music box was a small, porcelain ballerina, in a traditional white costume. She rotated slowly to the music that slowly chimed, note by note.

Eventually, Katja recognized it. After a while, she softly began to sing along.

"Oh you song! Little song of a maiden,

Head for the bright sun.

And reach for the soldier on the far-away border

Along with greetings from Katyusha.

Let him remember an ordinary girl,

And hear how she sings,

Let him preserve the Motherland,

Same as…"

She trailed off, not wanting to sing the final line.

" 'Katyusha?'" Adrien echoed. "Isn't that what…" he let the question die, looking uncomfortable.

"It's a traditional Russian folk song," Katja explained quickly. "It's… not just the old rocket launchers. Katyusha can be a diminutive of Jekaterina."

"Huh. Maybe your mom named you after the song," Adrien said thoughtfully.

"I don't know." Katja ran her tongue over her lower lip. In the corner of her vision, she saw Blue observing the scene – it was hard to tell whether it was with interest or boredom. "Maybe we should move into Fedor's office. We probably won't find anything important here."

Adrien seemed concerned. "It's important to you."

"I know, but… there's no time. We need to keep moving."

"You're sure?"

Katja didn't answer, but walked toward the reinforced door of her father's office. Behind her, she heard Adrien removing and zipping his pack.

Not long after, she heard three sets of feet following her.

Again, she tried the door; but her father seemingly hadn't become director of the facility by being an idiot. "Blue?" she requested.

This door he just cut the hinges off instead of blowing it open. Maybe out of concern of damaging anything of value inside. Regardless, it dropped with a thump, kicking up particulates.

"All this dust is aggravating my allergies," Alexei complained, followed by a fake-sounding sneeze.

Katja began searching the room. Her father had always been very organized and neat, and this office was no exception – aside from the thorough dusting and vacuuming it needed.

She went to a file cabinet, and was briefly stumped when she saw a 3-digit combination lock. Blue's cannon wouldn't help with this; it needed some finesse. But what number would her dad use?

Almost without thinking, her finger spun the dials until it read 377. Karik's birth month and year. It was an unacknowledged fact between her and her two remaining brothers that Karik had been the favorite child.

Still, Fedor was not sentimental, so she was somewhat surprised when the drawer slid out freely. Almost sloppy on his part. Anyone who had done even a minimal amount of research on him could have figured it out. Of course, it was in a secret Russian military base and behind a literal vault door.

She immediately was drawn to a folder labeled 'Romanov'. Taking it out curiously, she flipped through some pages, then turned to the others. "This says Tsar Nicholas and his family were executed using serpents, not shot to death. They were badly burned by acid, and later reports tried to cover it up by saying that the burns were done after the fact by soldiers with sulfuric acid, so no one could identify the bodies." Saying it almost felt surreal. She had grown up hearing stories of the Romanovs.

"Whoa," Adrien said. "For real?"

"Yes."

"Anything in there about Igor Dyatlov?" Adrien asked. Katja turned back, fingering through the folders for the name, or anything associated with it.

"Here," Katja said as she located it and removed it from the drawer. After skimming the report, she read the important bits aloud. "It was a weapons test of the serpents. Search and destroy, using the Polytech students as targets. The test went awry when a second extraterrestrial species appeared via unidentified craft," Katja said. At the last part, everyone looked at Blue expectantly.

"Clan brought up incident in past. Will be asking them to expound later," Blue stated very matter-of-factly.

Going back to the drawer, Katja read some more of the folder tab names. A few jumped out that she thought were important.

"Antarctica, Bouvetøyen Island, 1904. Whaling station crew disappears under questionable circumstances," Katja read. That was the extent of it, however. Nothing else. Like the Soviet government suspected something, but couldn't prove it. Still, it would be like her father to document all leads, no matter how vague.

"Yeah, that's accurate to my reports. Not much left of that place now after someone blew it to shit." Adrien rubbed his jaw.

"Unblooded fools," Blue voiced. To Katja, that seemed more like an external venting than actual anger directed at any of them. Nobody had the courage to push him further on his comment, either.

"Guatemala, 1987," Katja offered. This appeared to be one of this facility's' last recorded incidents. Perhaps the Crypt had shut down not long after that. She also recalled Guatemala as one of the incidents Adrien had mentioned.

"Already read it," Adrien waved off disinterestedly. Maybe he thought he had been briefed enough on the matter. Shrugging, she instead offered it to Blue, who took it.

"Did you know him?" Katja asked after a moment of watching him read.

"Never met. Different clan. Spoken in legend through other hunters and clans," Blue explained before dumping the folder on the desk.

"Ok, here's another one, just four years after Antarctica. In 1908, a meteor crashed into Tunguska. Russian military finds herders' bodies with inconsistent causes of death. While most match that of wild animal attacks, others were blown open in the chest, or skulls and spines removed, and even suggestions of bladed weapons being used," Katja summarized. "The tsar, Nicholas, then ordered a military complex to be built here in the Urals. Probably the beginnings of this one? Anyway, it sounds like he was keeping all of this extraterrestrial activity a state secret, and the Bolsheviks discovered it when they overthrew him."

Something she'd read once, one of the tsar's comments after being arrested, was coming back to her with a chill. "I would go anywhere at all, except to the Urals."

Nicholas had known what had awaited him here.

Adrien was speaking, refocusing her. "Yeah, that makes sense as far as how the communists – and the current Russian government – originally got ahold of the serpents. But you know what doesn't? Two meteors hit in the same area, and both contained serpents? Seems like a cosmic impossibility."

Katja thought back to her discussion with Blue. There was something worse in the universe, hiding at the very edges. Were they now sending these 'packages' containing serpents to Earth? And if so, to what end? The only thing that made sense was either to distract the Yautja or test their defenses. Jade may have been an evil witch, but that didn't make some of her observations incorrect.

These 'missiles' were being aimed at Earth for… whatever reason. Despite the unreadable masked face, she could tell Blue was thinking the exact same thing.

"Let me pick one," Adrien pushed in, ending her earlier train of thought. At random, he pulled a folder and handed it to her.

"Project Goliath," Katja read the title aloud before opening it.

She could feel her face scrunching up the further she read until she simply couldn't read anymore.

"What? What is it?" Adrien asked.

Katja didn't answer.

She was braced against the wall, sick to her stomach.

Adrien didn't know what she had read; but clearly, it upset her. He was about to give up when Blue suddenly stepped forward and projected a holographic English translation of the document.

Adrien had heard before that Stalin had tried to create super soldiers by cross-breeding humans with gorillas. If he had to guess, that had probably only resulted in a lot of dead people. Likely women. Interesting, too; because for a long time, it was thought to be nothing more than a myth.

Reading further, it seemed there had been a next step to this plan.

In summary, the soviets were planning on capturing a hunter, and would try to create a hybrid. How they intended to capture one was almost humorous to imagine.

Encouraging one to get it on with a human? Not so hard to believe, after the last few days out here. Then again, they had probably planned on artificial insemination.

Blue had no reaction to the information whatsoever. Damn his poker face.

Something didn't add up, though.

"I don't get it; all you'd end up with is an inferior hunter, assuming you could cross the species."

Adrien addressed Katja, but subtly eyed Blue, trying to see if he knew whether this hypothetical hybrid was possible. Nothing in his body language suggested an answer either way. Maybe the silence was telling, but then again, maybe not.

"But it would produce a superior human. They just wanted these… super soldiers to steamroll over other nations and impose their will on the Earth. It had nothing to do with going after Blue's kind," Katja filled in the blanks bitterly.

Oh… 'Goliath' now made sense for a project name.

While this was without question an atrocity, the documents suggested they had only gotten as far as the gorillas; probably because there was no way they'd ever get a live hunter. Communist Russia did a lot worse than this. "Katja, why are you taking this one so hard?" Adrien asked carefully.

"Look at the name. The person who put forth the idea and signed off on it," Katja spat, throwing the file on the floor.

Adrien turned back to the hologram and went to the bottom.

Fedor Mikhailov.

"You were right, Adrien. About him," Katja muttered.

"He just put forth an idea, Katja; he wasn't involved in the whole gorilla thing. Maybe it wasn't even his idea, more of a group effort, and he took the credit like any other manager," Adrien shifted uncomfortably.

He didn't know why he was trying so hard to convince her. Maybe because, right now, she needed some faith in who she was – where she'd come from.

"The fact that he didn't immediately shut it down is enough to tell me what kind of man he is, Adrien. Someone whose ideals align with a dictator that openly embraced killing fifteen million innocents through starvation," Katja retorted. "My father, the war criminal."

Before Adrien could respond, there were noises deep in the mountain fortress. Hisses, screeches.

They were being taunted by the queen.

"Our enemies gather," Blue observed.

"He's right, we need to move," Katja whispered. She brushed past Alexei, who stumbled and slammed his hands on the computer keyboard.

Adrien froze when he heard the computer making power-up noises. That shouldn't be possible.

Turning, he looked at the monitor of the old machine. Sure enough, the computer was on and ready for commands.

"Katja, do me a favor and try some of the electronics in the other room?" Adrien requested.

"On it," Katja agreed, hurrying into the receptionist area. He watched and heard her try light switches, the computer, and even lamps. Nothing switched on, which was how it should be.

So why did this room have power?

It was the facility director's office. There must have been a backup power source somewhere that didn't need monitoring or human intervention to operate. Wind didn't make much sense; that would give away the base's position. Solar, too; but that seemed even more unlikely given the location, and high cost of solar panels in the 80s. Everything else would require physical human presence to operate. At least, he thought so.

Whatever it was, it might explain why random locations they traversed out here had power when by all accounts, they shouldn't.

Was the power supply alien in origin?

Alexei, meanwhile, had been using the Weyland laptop to plug into the ancient computer. Adrien just ignored him as Katja returned. She flicked on the lights in the director's office, which worked perfectly.

"Some sort of backup power supply?" Katja suggested, voicing his thoughts.

"Must be, but we don't have time to rip the ugly wallpaper off to find out," Adrien answered as he hefted his rifle. "Let's go."

Katja and Blue moved past him, but Alexei stayed in front of the monitor, clearly engrossed.

"Alexei, let's move it," Adrien ordered. The kid spoke in a flurry of Russian, while wildly gesturing. When would he get that he – Adrien – did not understand nor speak Russian?

"He says he can do more good from here," Katja stepped to Adrien's side.

"How?" Adrien questioned suspiciously. The kid waved them closer to him. Once the group was huddled, Alexei began speaking.

"He says he has access to the base blueprints, my father's notes, and more. He can guide us where we need to go," Katja explained, an underlying hint of doubt in her voice.

"That's all well and good, but how are we going to talk over comms in this place?" Adrien asked.

"There would have to be embedded transmitters in this place for radios. The base personnel wouldn't use phones only," Katja explained. She was right, Adrien knew. Same thing went for the guys in the nuclear missile facilities. They'd need more than landlines to communicate.

Frowning, Adrien addressed Alexei. "You'd be cornered with no protection. We don't have–" The American Captain stopped himself from saying Petrov. "We can't spare anyone to cover you," he finished more carefully. This was more to test if Alexei really believed in his plan, or was trying to coward out.

The kid said something, but Katja just looked away and didn't repeat it in English. Blue jumped in, however.

" 'We are all dead anyway'."

"Ok, I'm trusting you on this," Adrien said.

Ha. Alexei was right. He was a dead man.

Vai'dqouulth began using his plasmacaster to seal the door he had cut apart, fusing it back to the wall. It was a little welding trick known only to the most experienced hunters who knew other methods of utilizing their tools.

The runt would be secure, but unable to leave without their assistance.

When Adrien asked if the arriving Yautja would get him out and release him if they couldn't, Vai'dqouulth chuffed in amusement.

They would not bother, and if they did, they would most certainly kill him to maintain secrecy.

At least, without Vai'dqouulth's personal intervention.

It seemed Adrien and Katja were not going to divulge that information to the weakling, though, lest he try to run like the coward he was.

With the heavy door secured once more, Vai'dqouulth turned and nodded to his remaining human companions, and they all began walking.

"We are coming back for him if we live, right?" Katja asked. To his further amusement, she received no response. "Right?" she asked again.

Deciding it would help her opinion of him, Vai'dqouulth answered. "We will prevail, and we will retrieve all members of the party.".

She sighed, the sound distinctly relieved, not irritated. It seemed his answer satisfied her.

"Where we going, Alexei?" Adrien quietly broadcasted.

"You see a blue pipe above you?" Alexei asked.

"Yeah, we see the pipe," Katja answered for everyone. Switching vision modes, Vai'dqouulth looked at the ceiling. There was indeed a blue pipe above them; though with all the weathering rust, the color was somewhat in question.

"Follow that," Alexei ordered.

"We're following it," Katja clarified in English, clearly repeating Alexei for Adrien's sake.

"Punk better know what he's saying," Adrien mumbled. The Yautja had to agree. The runt had proven to be directionally challenged out in the wilderness. Even with a map, he did not believe Alexei had the capacity to find a hard meat in the middle of the nest.

Vai'dqouulth switched his vision mode back and continued forward. It was unnervingly quiet for a nest. He had been in nests before, such as during his Chiva. They hadn't been this silent.

Even though his allies were taking light, delicate steps, the large, deep halls and whatever material the floors were made of caused a reverberating echo all around them. It mattered little. The queen knew they were here, encroaching on her territory.

"Alexei, we reached a 'T' intersection, which way?" Katja broadcasted.

"Give me a minute," Alexei answered.

"He says he needs a moment," Katja explained to Adrien. "We have to wait."

"Sit tight. That's great advice from someone sitting behind a desk," Adrien said disgustedly. Vai'dqouulth suspected he was often in this position. Waiting for his superiors to direct him when death was all around.

"Go right," Alexei stated.

"Right?" Katja repeated.

"You're sure?" Adrien asked suspiciously.

"Yes! Why would I send you somewhere you don't need to be?!" Alexei protested, and Katja translated for him.

To Vai'dqouulth's experience, Alexei was always purposely deceitful simply to cause conflict with the members of the group. He understood why the veteran questioned his directions.

"You'd do it just for fun, Alexei, and you know it. You never need a reason to be a douche," Adrien muttered.

Vai'dqouulth had no understanding of the last word but surmised (and hoped) it was an insult. "Dooooshhhh," he muttered quietly.

"You know it, brother," Adrien said.

"Let's keep moving, guys," Katja said quietly. "To the right."

Other than soft conformations to the directions Alexei gave them, nobody spoke after Katja's request.

Everything was dark.

That went without saying; but somehow, even with her night vision goggles, it seemed darker than the outdoors at night. And not just because of the lack of stars and moon. It was a structure designed for light, and the absence of it made the corners and walls and rooms seem unnatural.

"Everything about this place is unnatural," she reminded herself.

At that moment, Katja hated her father. Truly, simply, hated him. No more mixed feelings.

He was a coward with an ego, the absolute worst combination of traits a leader could have.

Maybe he hadn't created this place, but he'd certainly done his best to further the atrocities committed here – and allowed the Queen to escape, no doubt due to his hubris.

What would Karik think of what their father had done?

She suspected he would be angry. Karik always had a strong sense of justice.

It was why he would have also been upset with her for losing her men. For… what she'd done to Petrov.

"I'm trying, Karik. I promise. Even if I die, I will make this right."

"Okay, we went right. We're in another hallway now," Adrien said to Alexei, startling her from her thoughts.

So stupid.

She could not get distracted so close to the end.

"At the end of the hallway is a big, reinforced double door. It opens into a huge, observation-type room. Two levels, with a deck and walkway at the top. You'll be on the ground floor. I'm thinking it's a good spot to start looking for the Queen, and if not, there's a staircase on the other side of the room to continue on to the other big rooms. I mean, they told me she was big. So…"

Katja explained Alexei's ramblings to Adrien, but she didn't see the door at the end of the hall.

She did, however, see a huge, open frame. If it had once held doors, they were retracted or destroyed.

Taking point, Katja moved forward, mentally urging her goggles to pick up anything in the room beyond the doorframe.

Knee-high, oval shapes were just starting to become visible inside the observation area when Blue said urgently, "Oomans," He seemed to struggle for a moment, "Stop!" He finally ordered.

In his own voice, and not a recording.

Katja immediately froze, and so did Adrien.

She squinted, focusing on the ovals. They were big, but they almost looked like…

"Kat," Adrien hissed.

"Yeah?"

"Any chance your dad cloned dinosaurs on the side?"

Really? Jokes? "I don't think so."

"Then we might be in trouble…"