”Would you look at that…” El thought slowly as he watched the strange extraterrestrial creature pace about the containment chamber.

Composed of a bilayer polymethyl methacrylate, the containment chamber stood ten meters high and encompassed a space of nearly twenty square meters. The chamber appeared normal enough with the exception of the large central discs upon the floor where specimens were lifted into the observation chamber and the large sliding metal door on what would be defined as the front. Surrounding the caged top was an observation platform, a catwalk with intermittent work stations to ease the scientists work. In fact, a casual observer would never notice anything enticing about the construct had it been empty.

Inside the observation chamber had been a most interesting creature. A strange bioform with what appeared to be four razor sharp claws presumed to be specially adapted to tear through the prey they consumed. They were appendages best suited to ravage the hard, rocky soil of their home environment. The creature exploited these claws as a means to maintain balance while skittering about with an insect-like gait moving with bounding leaps driven by powerful hind legs.

“This strange creature… look at the eyes Doctor - positioned on the side of the head,” El spoke smoothly while running his finger along a computer tablet in his hand, “But this beasts bioform construction is most certainly best suitable for a predatory position amongst the biological food chain.” Edmund peered over the railing of the observation deck, observing the creature as closely as safety would allow. “It knows… it knows something is off - like it recognizes the difference in the containment field compared to its home planet.”

”Sentient for sure but you believe it is capable of human-like thought patterns?” Doctor Stratus inquired scoffing at the notion of something so insectile that it could be capable of advanced thought or perhaps even more advanced communication than humans had been privy too at this point in their existence. ”Perhaps even some sort of telepathic communication?” Doctor Stratus laughed.

”For a fool you’re surprisingly close,” Doctor Gainsborough thought though at the moment he wouldn’t speak his mind.

What made the containment chamber so unique had been the holographic environmental generator. It was special in that not only did it produce a visual representation of a given environment but it was also capable of replicating the auditory and olfactory aspects of a given place. Those flowers will have the very real smell of sweet pollen. Or the ruddy, moist soil will replicate a smell of iron or blood. The generator could only be so well programmed; however, failing to produce accurate tactile sensations. The most gaping deficit is that no matter how similar the appearance and the scents may be, the programming can only reproduce aspects that have been digitally recognized by its intelligence. This means that environments experienced only through distant surveillance or limited exploration can only be simulated by mimicking similar environments previously loaded in its memory banks.

The strange insectile creature hesitantly prodded at the mediocre recreation of its home environment. It moved about the chamber as if searching for something that it had not yet realized it would not find. Tilting its head to and fro trying to further identify the environment around it. Intermittently the creature furiously assaulted the ground as if trying to penetrate the simulated terrestrial surface beneath its limbs. More than once yet not often enough to be considered habitual the creature had drawn its gaze upward, as if trying to make some sort of connection.

“What do we know of its eating habits? How does this strange creature survive?” Doctor Stratus inquired tapping on the glass of the containment chamber door. ”Nothing in the surveillance files show anything beyond the creature’s movement habits or at least their herd like movement.” Kicking the base of the containment chamber door both men watched as the creatures attention was drawn. “Did it hear that? Or did it feel that? How do they hunt?”

”Let’s find out shall we?

Before Doctor Stratus could even utter a confused word, the containment chamber door slid open with such fervor it rattled the floor. However, it could not cover up the chittering of the creature’s clawed limbs as it breached the threshold of the chamber. With a shrill roar the creature leapt forth from the mist veiled shadows of the simulated environment.

Doctor Stratus’ first scream would come packed beneath the immense weight of the cougar sized specimen pressing down on his chest, four blade-like appendages penetrating his human flesh. It was as if the creature had known the most vital points of the human although direct contact had yet to be established. Yet, the creature had left the Doctor alive upon first impact unlike many predatory creatures.

Many things were known. These creatures were most likely subterranean dwellers. Surveillance has shown these creatures to exist in great herds typically around much larger similarly developed creatures. They preferred the darkness of the shadows although they seemed foreign to the forest environment produced by the containment chamber. As it were, these creatures were streamlined for like as a predator in physical development; however, its behavior was oddly sentient as if they were more intelligent than they appeared. But one of the most important aspects readily ascertainable was that a victim was most certainly alive when they started to feast.

“Subdue the specimen.” An armed guard called out as it breached the threshold into the room that played host to the containment chamber.

”Wait! Don’t eradicate the beast! Doctor Gainsborough shouted reaching out as if to restrain the beast from his safe position on the catwalk.

But it was too late. By the time the armed guards had breached the threshold of the lab the doctor was efficiently dismembered. And by the time the doctor had cried out, the guards were already sure of their orders. The doctor could only sit and watch in disgust as the new insectile specimen was blasted by an unidentifiable number of armor piercing rounds that while at first seemed to do little soon decimated the creature. The insectile beast collapsed on the doctor in a heap of its own entrails and amaranthine ichor.

”Seize him.”

It was cold. The emptiness of space. Unlike the luxury of Elysium Prime just beyond the Edgeworth-Kuiper Belt or even the space station Elysium not even a warp-jump away from the constellation Cygnus the Dropship made the vast darkness of space seem all consuming. As the relatively small space vessel careened through space the nonexistent outside observers would have exclaimed that the vessel was not moving at all but instead the environment was bending around the ship as if to simulate true movement. But of course, while at the heart of such an idea was the very basic thought pattern behind many concepts percolating in the minds of many theoretical astrophysicists, that was not the case here. The ship was very much moving through the dark reaches of space.

“Will you take these things off,” Doctor Gainsborough plead pacing in the small area of the ship that he was allotted to stretch his legs.

“Sorry Sir,” Officer John Davidson responded in a monotonous tone. “That’d be against protocol for a prisoner of your status.”

“Status,” El sneered with an obviously rhetorical tone. “How can I have a status? A wrongfully convicted first time offender with multiple degrees, a mediocre military background, and a very typical family life from birth to adulthood. What sort of negative psychological profile is supported by those perimeters?”

“Edmund Lloyd Gainsborough,” Officer Davidson started.

“I wasn’t looking -” but El was sternly cut off.

“Class A, Level three offender. Considered to be extremely intelligent with a dangerous lack of empathy. A Master Justiciar amongst the Elysium Psi Corps deems that quiet contemplation or relaxation must be avoided at all costs fearing an inadvertent awakening. The convict must remain unarmed and confined until disembarkation from the STS Discovery.”

“I didn’t realize you moonlighted as a stenographer John,” El quipped. “But I was there when the Judge made his -”

“You think because you had proven yourself worthy of a higher education from a modest background excelling where others had shown weakness that you are untouchable,” the Officer interrupted. “But you’re not so bulletproof Edmund and Carlos isn’t here to keep those pearly whites behind those scaled lips.”

“Bravo Johnny,” El scoffed, “you’ve managed to put together relevant prose to not only tighten your grip upon the orders you so zealously defend given to you by people who find your life expendable but also draw upon the one thing you think drives me up a wall.”

“Do you even feel any remorse for your actions?”

“I still contend that the death of the Doctor Stratus was a grave mistake and lapse of coordination with the wireless work station.” El mocked, “If there is anything that I do regret it’s that such an amazing specimen was needlessly exterminated before I was able to develop a reasonable understanding of its being.”

”You’ve always maintained a distance from being personally involved. I’m not surprised you’ve ended up here.” Officer Davidson retorted with a shameful sigh.

”I’m not asking you to give me a weapon Johnny. Hell, I’m not even asking you to let me out of this room...just” El pled caressing his wrists moving from one arm to the other. ”We grew up together, you know me, cut me a bit of slack.”

The Officer began fumbling with the accoutrements of his uniform. In a time of electronic biometric locks, keys were a thing of the past. The buttons of his jacket. The strap of his rifle. The buckle of his utility belt. It was obvious to Edmund that the guard was tangling with an ethical conundrum. A problem of honoring past relationships and repaying debts or the protocol established by an administration that spends more time observing those rules on paper rather than seeing how they operate in the field.

”Remember when you were caught stealing those extra rations and you came to my apartment rather than go home? Who’s place did those guards tear up?” El started recalling a more or less fond memory of their childhood. ”My Mother was pissed. The mess the guards left. The confusion. But they never found you. Not even when we snuck you home the next morning.”

As the story had gone, the Johnson’s were a little short on credits. Sustenance had grown tight. While they were getting by, sometimes little boys want a little more than they were allowed. So doing as most little children do when they are told otherwise, he took what did not belong to him. Of course, his folly was being caught and what was worse Johnny ran. The authorities of Elysium Prime gave chase. Now Johnny was not a complete idiot, so returning to his home was out of the question. However, entering the Gainsborough residence through a means much more clandestine and typically accessed by the neighborhood kids. Despite the authorities attempts, they had failed to find the child. All because of El’s quick wit and silver tongue.

”I’ve never said you owe me anything. But at least you could do me this -one- favor.”

He was hesitant at first but Davidson slowly moved forward tugging the advanced manacles up from the prisoner’s waist. Keys had long since gone by the wayside. But the key to Davidson’s mind had been in El’s pocket long before he had been found guilty. The mechanism was not terribly advanced in the grand scheme of things; however, the small swoosh of air that released as the needles exploded from their sheathes and into the guards thumbs for a quick scan of his deoxyribonucleic acid was quite bewildering for those who were not familiar with the technology. A pair of manacles, essentially fancy handcuffs that could not be unlocked by keys but the identification of someone’s bioelectrical algorithm and genetic composition. Such an advancement made it impossible for all but the most devious and strong-minded individuals from escaping on their own accord.

“Thank you,” El began before the manacles clattered to the floor.

Rubbing his wrists Gainsborough watched the guard’s eyes draw upon the titanium objects that came to rest at this feet. It was apparent that John was still struggling with his dereliction of duties or at least of this one particular duty. But even as the ship began to vibrate the guard’s stare could not be drawn away.

Even as the ship began to tremble John’s eye danced upon the manacles on the floor as they began to bounce. When the monitor in the corner began to chirp, flashing in red to fasten one’s restraints the officer’s eyes could not be drawn away. However, El was more than aware of the safety issues that were arising. When the ship began to violently tremble, the guard had no choice but to take note as Edmund was thrown off his balance but John did not catch him. The two men tumbled to the ground, El -inadvertently- throwing a knee into the man’s groin.

“Sorry Johnny, but I’ll be damned - arghhhh”

There was nothing left to be said as El was toppled head over heels as the STS Discovery had been violently rattled, moving in directions that were only spoken about in circles of theoretical physics. The very fabric of the interior metal work seemed to bend as if compressed by the magnitude of some great exterior force. Electrical interference shuttered across the few monitors available in the cell. Energy surged through the wires within the ship’s hull, breaching the riveted seams and fracturing the welded sheets of metal that were struggling to maintain coherency under the pressure of space.

Hope was nowhere to be found.

Coming Soon...