<div>


    Mau-Nis methodically checks each of the three locations. The first location, Mau-Nis stumbles upon three civilians. Two of the oomans are male, both dressed in blue jumpsuits similar to the ones worn by Dr. Boyd’s companions aboard the ill-fated ooman science vessel. The third, a female, cowers in a corner. A blanket is wrapped around the female’s bare shoulders and there are bruises covering her face—as well as the exposed portions of her arms. Immediately ascertaining the situation, Mau-Nis remains cloaked, but ejects his arm blade. Dispatching the two ooman males is easy enough. The female is in too much shock to be much of a witness. Mau-Nis actually feels regret leaving the female to her mental torture. However, she has done nothing to deserve the sharpness of his blade. Her suffering will be over once the station blows.


    Heading for the second location displayed on the interior of his mask, Mau-Nis attempts to forget the cowering ooman female. Her lifeless haunted eyes. Her lips which moved but made no sound. The darkened circles around her eyes, and the blood staining her mouth.


    The more Mau-Nis struggles to forget the female, the angrier he becomes. Not once, but three times, he has come across ooman males preying upon their weaker counterparts. And each time, the same males begged and pleaded for their own worthless lives.


    Mau-Nis no longer retracts his arm blade. Walking with weapon at the ready, Mau-Nis approaches his second destination. Should he come upon another scene like the last one, he will not spare the ooman males any pain. They will be dealt with slowly and painfully. He will rip loose the spine of the first, while the other watches. Then, he will meticulously carve off the head of the second.


    To Mau-Nis’s relief and mild chagrin—at being denied a satisfying kill—no such scene awaits him. Instead, he finds two ooman females and a male childling. One female is very old, the other is much younger. All are seated on the floor behind an overturned metal table. The younger ooman female caresses the childling’s face and wipes his tears, his small head reclining in her lap.


    “It’s okay, Ronnie,” the young female says. “Your father will be here soon. Don’t worry. Once they lift the lockdown…We can go home with Daddy. Okay, Ronnie? You believe Mommy?”


    The ooman childling uses a sleeve to wipe tears from his face. He doesn’t seem wholly convinced but the childling lies anyway. Likely, to reassure his mother as well as himself.


    “Yes, Mom,” Little Ronald says. “I believe you. But, I’m still scared. What was that thing we saw?”


    “I don’t know, sweetheart,” Ron’s mother says. “I don’t know. But we have to stay here until Daddy comes to get us. It’s safer that way. Remember our safe place. This is our safe place. Daddy will always look for us here.”


    “I know, Mom,” Ronnie says.


    Nestling into his mother’s lap, Ronnie absently traces a finger down the seam of her pants.


    “Do you think the monsters are going to kill us all, Mommy?” Ron Jr. asks in a low voice.


    “We have to look on the bright side, Ronnie.  If they were going to kill us...We''d be dead already.  The monster...It let us go.  That has to mean something,” the young female says.  "I think we’ll be okay. We just need to stay calm and wait for Daddy.”


    <div>


    The old ooman has so far said nothing. She grips her daughter’s arm tightly and glances around. Mau-Nis finishes observing them and turns away.


    -


    -


    Administration Corridor


    Lounge


    Teresa enters the lounge and timidly looks around.


    “Your…Uh…Hunters are pretty thorough,” Teresa says. “I haven’t seen hide or tail of another human since old Stevens and those bodies in the observation corridor. Did Mau-Nis say where they are keeping everybody? I mean…The oomans who aren’t a threat? Women…Children…Other civilians?”


    N-Vorl hesitates before responding. He allows Teresa to move ahead several paces.  He watches her every movement.


    “He did not,” N-Vorl obfuscates.


    Teresa stops walking but does not turn to face N-Vorl. She now wears a solemn expression.


    “You said…Your plans are to destroy this station. And any evidence which might point to your existence. What happens to the civilians aboard? The women…The children?”Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    “I think you know the answer to that, Teresa,” N-Vorl answers softly.


    Teresa releases a deep sigh and lowers her gaze to the floor. She places a hand on her hip and pops the knuckles on her other hand.


    “I do,” Teresa says. “I guess, I just needed to hear you say it. To make it real.”


    N-Vorl remains where he is, observing Teresa from afar.  Teresa''s shoulders, which have grown thinner since her dramatic weight loss aboard the ooman torture station, rise slowly up and down.


    “Is that a solution you can live with, Teresa?” N-Vorl inquires.


    “Maybe…Not the children,” Teresa says. “But, I have no choice. If we don’t leave here…They’ll kill me. They’ll kill my son. And they’ll find out about you. All of you. It’s a price…I have to pay. A price I’ve already paid…Once before.”


    “You always have a choice, Teresa!” N-Vorl says.


    N-Vorl means his words to be reassuring. However, Teresa is suddenly filled with anger and frustration. She whirls to face him.


    “Everyone keeps saying that,” Teresa exclaims. “P’taal…Glotis…You. But the only choices we really have…Are the ones we are compelled to make…In that tiny fraction of an insignificant moment. All the others…Don’t matter. It doesn’t matter what I could have done. Or what I will do in the future. I didn’t…And I won’t. I will do what I have to do to save my son. Because, I’m his mother. It’s the least I can do--After everything they have put him through. Vor’taalnis should never have been born. My selfishness is the only reason he was. And that is a decision I will have to live with for the rest of my life.”


    N-Vorl takes a step in Teresa’s direction. He shakes his head in confusion.


    “You don’t mean that, Teresa!?” N-Vorl says, gauging Teresa’s reaction with narrowed eyes.


    “Oh, I don’t mean that I didn’t want Vor’taalnis,” Teresa replies. “I did…And I do. But that’s exactly what I’m trying to impress upon you, N-Vorl! Choices…Don’t really matter. Not when they’re horrible choices. I chose not to terminate my pregnancy because I didn’t want to die alone in space. Now, here we are. My own kind has been torturing me for weeks. Hurting my son. They almost killed him more than once. What kind of choice...Did I really make?”


    N-Vorl does not speak. He only stares at Teresa, allowing her to vent her frustrations. Teresa rubs a hand over her throat, the spot where N-Vorl’s teeth once pierced her flesh. She turns away from him, her eyes focusing on the in-wall beverage maker recessed in the wall.


    “It seems…Things don’t really change much,” Teresa says.


    She strolls to the machine and turns it on. Reaching into a nearby cupboard, she grabs down a mug with the Weyland Industries symbol stenciled on the side. N-Vorl’s arms enfolding her waist brings moisture to her eyes.


    “Whether it’s Dayshadow or Weyland Industries…” Teresa chuckles. “They always go for the cheapest quality products. Except androids. I hear they pay top dollar for those.”


    “You are referring to the artificial oomans?” N-Vorl says, resting his head on Teresa’s shoulder.


    “You know about those?” Teresa asks.


    “We know about a lot of things,” N-Vorl explains. “For instance. How do you think we knew that the ship which crashed to the Judas home world was an ooman science vessel?”


    “I…I never thought to wonder about that,” Teresa exclaims, feeling rather dumb and perplexed. “How did you all know that?”


    N-Vorl’s answer is a sly grin.


    “N-Vorl?!” Teresa insists. “How did you know?!”


    Silence, and an even larger grin. Teresa narrows her eyes and tilts her face to stare up at N-Vorl.


    “Judas home world? Wait a minute. You say that as if—. N-Vorl, do you mean to tell me…” Teresa begins. “That there are still Judases alive on the planet’s surface? They survived the destruction of the California?”


    N-Vorl’s grin grows much larger, his mandibles opening wide with his excitement.


    “Yes,” N-Vorl replies. “I have been back to the planet on two occasions. The Judases are now part of our hunting rituals. Our scientists are even now finding new ways to incorporate Judas DNA into various other species. Including the specimen you seemed so fascinated with…The Keinde Amedha. The black serpent. Your creations have been given new life…On many new worlds.”


    <div>


    Teresa’s eyes fill with tears and her lower lip begins to tremble. N-Vorl mistakes this for a sign of extreme happiness. He turns Teresa to face him and kisses her tenderly. Teresa is in fact appalled by the news. Richard, Harold, Bess, and soon to be so many others. All dead. By her hands, and her creations.


    -


    -


    Mau-Nis has completed his search of the three locations and is headed back to the administration wing. Behind him, at the third dot displayed on his interface, lie two dead ooman males and a lone female guard. Like the first, whom he stabbed with his arm blade, Mau-Nis has left the female to succumb to her wounds. The fight had been fierce but brief. Allowing the oomans to see him, Mau-Nis had taken them on one by one. The female had fought only reluctantly, after watching her male companions fall to Mau-Nis’ expert skill.


    There is still no sign of Teresa’s missing childling. A small part of Mau-Nis’ mind wonders if there is a childling at all. How could there be? And how can N-Vorl be the father? Could the ooman doctor’s mind have fractured? Mau-Nis considers this line of reasoning very carefully.


    -


    -


    N-Vorl stares at the red meat on his plate and then up at Teresa. Teresa’s meat is of a tougher texture. Having been burnt by the ooman process of cooking. Teresa cuts the steak into tiny pieces and lifts it to her mouth with an implement she calls a fork. N-Vorl watches her eat, feeling little hunger himself.


    “Have you heard anything from Mau-Nis?” Teresa inquires.


    She drops her fork to the plate and pushes it away. More than half of her food still remains.


    “Mau-Nis has elected to only speak on the matter of our son face to face,” N-Vorl says. “He does not wish the others to overhear our conversations. The council has no idea Vor’taalnis even exists. If they did…The objective of our mission might change.”


    “They’d want my son dead?” Teresa prods N-Vorl.


    “Quite possibly,” N-Vorl replies.


    “I wish I could say I’m surprised,” Teresa says. “But remembering our first meeting…I’m not.”


    Teresa climbs from her seat at the table. She grips her brimming mug of decaf coffee with a slender hand. Taking a sip, she peers over the rim at N-Vorl.


    “We should get back to Wessinger’s office,” Teresa says. “In case, Mau-Nis comes back.”