Chapter 6: Field Work

Clayton sprinted through the throngs of people, his lungs burning as he pushed past crowds of human personnel and dodged around the larger aliens. He had to head off Reid, the lives of all the Krell in the ventilation system depended on it. As cavernous as the interior of the Pinwheel’s torus was the expansive space was always crowded with people, either engineers and soldiers on their way to and from their duties, or civilians and personnel on leave who loitered and clogged the walkways. He had to hope that Reid would be in less of a hurry and that he would be able to catch up to her in time.

The Chief’s office was located in the central control hub of the Pinwheel, which was connected to the torus by giant spokes from which the station got its nickname, Reid and Dubois would be headed to the nearest entrance in this quarter. He hurried downspin, squeezing between a pack of feline Borealans and drawing their ire, ducking out of claw range as their leader spat an insult.

After what felt like an eternity he arrived at the nearest entrance to the central hub, a long tube that served as a walkway to connect the two sections, lined with transparent windows that looked out into space. The autom atic door was guarded by two marines clad in black UNN body armor, their faces obscured by opaque visors. Reid must have already gone through, damn it.

He made for the door, but one of the marines walked forward to block his path, holding out a gloved hand and gesturing for him to stop.

“Excuse me, Sir, do you have prior authorization to enter the hub?”

“Please, it’s an emergency, I need to speak to Chief Moralez immediately.”

“I’m sorry Sir, I can’t let you through without authorization.”

Clayton considered trying to rush past them, but the two men were armed, their rifles hanging across their chests.

“It’s very important, it concerns station security, I’m a member of Doctor Katherine Reid’s science team appointed by Chief Moralez.”

At that the marine hesitated, bringing up a wrist-mounted tablet computer embedded in the bulky wristguard of his suit and tapped in some commands. Clayton waited impatiently, practically bouncing on the spot as the marine checked it out.

“Says here a Doctor Reid and company are permitted temporary access to the control hub by order of the security chief, but unless you have her with you, I can’t let you enter.”

“You mean she hasn’t been through yet?”

“Not logged anyone by that name today, Sir.”

“Doctor Clayton? What are you doing out here?” Reid’s voice from behind, he spun to see her and Dubois walking towards him. “I thought I told you to stay with Doctor Sousa and examine the specimens?”

Clayton breathed a sigh of relief, she hadn’t been through yet, he must have passed her on the way down without seeing her. He took a moment to steady himself, trying to calm his racing heart as Reid watched him with a confused expression.

“Doctor Reid, we’ve discovered something crucial about the Krell, you must not purge the ventilation system! The lizards we’ve been finding, they’re not the spawn of escaped pets, they’re Krell!”

Reid looked confused, and her expression darkened.

“I thought we had already ruled that out? What has changed?”

“The specimen we found in the barracks, the one we brought back to the lab, it is undergoing a transformation from male to female. The Krell, at least certain individuals, are changing sex!”

Reid took a moment to consider what she was being told, crossing her arms and staring intently at the floor. Dubois looked even more confused than she did. Clayton continued, gesturing wildly as he spoke.

“It is not without precedent, there are species on Earth that undergo similar changes based on environmental pressures, we theorize that a lack of females has triggered some kind of change in the aliens. When I did an x-ray of the specimen I found no deformities or congenital defects, just a dark mass in the lower abdomen that upon closer inspection, was a uterus.”

“And Sousa has confirmed this?” Reid asked, still skeptical.

“Yes, I didn’t know what to make of it at first, but Sousa assures me that this is well within the realm of possibility and that there are precedents in nature. He concurs that environmental pressures are causing some of our all-male Krell population to change into females. We cannot flush the vents, we must not, those lizards are baby Krell and there may still be females in the vent system laying eggs. We must round up every lizard and egg, and then isolate all of the females from the remaining males, who knows how the Krell would react if we murdered a hundred of their young?”

“Putain de merde...” Dubois exclaimed under his breath, “if we ‘ad flushed the vents, we would ‘ave blown their children out into space. Why did you not think of this sooner? You ‘ave a team of the best scientists available and still you almost cause a catastrophe such as this?”

“Now now Mister Dubois,” Reid said, gesturing for him to calm down. “Doctors Sousa and Clayton have reached the right conclusion in time, no harm is done. These kinds of breakthroughs are exactly the reason I assembled this team to begin with.” She turned back to the Clayton, the man still red-faced from his frantic rush to intercept her. “Your theory does indeed explain everything that has been happening so far, if you’re absolutely sure, join us and tell Chief Moralez what you know. Together we will come up with a solution that doesn’t harm the aliens, their safety will be my utmost priority.”

He seemed to visibly deflate, wiping beads of sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his lab coat.

“Thank you Doctor, that is what I had hoped to hear, of course this presents a new problem. We can isolate every individual Krell, perhaps in the brig, and that will stop them breeding for the time being but it isn’t a long-term solution.”

“We’ll think of something,” Reid said, walking towards the marines and waving Clayton and Dubois forward. “We need to let the Chief know about this.”

Reid flashed her ID badge and the marines moved to either side of the door, each scanning a card in a reader in order to open the way.

“Watch your step please,” one of the marines chimed as the trio walked onto one of the long spokes that anchored the hub to the torus. Clayton had never set foot on one before, only authorized personnel were allowed access as there were often one or more fleet Admirals present, and all of the major control systems that governed the station’s operation were located here. There was a ninety degree bend in the tubular passage, the floor curving until he had to crane his neck to see up the tunnel, as if he were looking up an elevator shaft. This wasn’t what he had expected, but of course if the tunnel were connected directly to the torus then the entrance would be embedded in the painted ceiling with no way to reach it, this way it extended from the side of the donut and curved upwards. It was made up of the same whitewashed metal and plastic present in the rest of the station, though there was a rubbery, treaded lining on the floor here that looked as if it were made for grip.

He wondered what the marine had meant by his comment, and then he felt the gravity change abruptly, his body blaring an alarm that he was falling as his stomach turned. Reid reached out a hand to steady him, and they walked up the curved floor together until they were standing on what a moment ago had been a sheer wall, the change in perspective messing with Clayton’s senses.

“The torus spins to generate inertia,” she explained, “creating a kind of artificial gravity, as the torus is far too large to use the gravity generator systems common on UNN vessels. Being at the center of the Pinwheel, the control hub has to use an AG field to generate its own gravity. The curve is the point where you leave the inertia of the torus and enter the hub’s AG field, it can be jarring the first couple of times.”

It was quite a walk, and the two men looked out of the windows at the velvet blackness of space, dotted with pinpoints of cold light from far away stars as Reid led them on. The massive donut-shaped torus extended off into the distance, painfully white as it reflected the glare from the system’s sun. You never really felt like you were were in a space station when you were in the torus, the painted ceiling and the planters that coated the place in greenery gave the impression that you were on some city street somewhere, with no windows to space present to spoil the illusion.

Here however Clayton felt exposed and vulnerable, very cognizant of the thin layers of metal and glass that separated him from the almost instant death of open space.

After a long trek they came to the door to the hub, there were no guards on this side, and the doors opened automatically to let them through. The hub was very different from the open spaces and decorative trickery of the torus, all narrow corridors as if they had stepped onto a navy battleship. It was tastefully furnished, it almost looked like a fancy executive office with paintings on the walls and shrouded lamps illuminating the carpeted deck, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the sense of oppression and claustrophobia that permeated the space.

“This way,” Reid announced, and turned off down one of the corridors. Clayton and Dubois followed her, feeling out of place as an occasional engineer or high ranked officer passed by them. When one of the doors that lined the corridors to either side of them opened, Clayton could spy an office cubicle or a bank of switches and machinery inside.

They arrived at a door to one of the offices, and Reid activated an intercom that was embedded in the wall beside it. It crackled to life, and a gruff voice could be heard on the other end.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Chief Moralez, Sir, it’s Doctor Reid. I have news concerning the lizard infestation that I wanted to present to you in person.”

“Very well Doctor, please come in.”

The door opened, and the group stepped inside. Moralez had a spacious office, the walls and desk were lined with consoles and readouts, no doubt informing him of everything that was happening on the station at any time. As Clayton marveled at the equipment he noticed views of the hangar bays, cargo manifests, a few personnel profiles open on one monitor. He felt as if he were standing inside the Pinwheel’s very brain. Moralez rose from his seat and took Reid’s hand in his polymer prosthetic, he would have saluted a fellow serviceman but although the scientists were employed by the UNN they were still technically civilians, and it would not have been appropriate.

“Good news I trust?” His voice was almost as gruff as his appearance, once chiseled features now marred by a patchwork of scars, the motors contained within his robotic limbs whirring softly as they moved.

“Well, we’ve gotten to the bottom of things, we’ve discovered the source of the infestation and it is ... nothing we could have imagined. As for what we can do about it, that remains to be seen. Our resident veterinarian, Doctor Clayton, will fill you in on the details.”

Clayton explained their findings to the Chief, whose expression went from surprise, to disbelief, and then finally to concern. He took a moment to absorb what had been said to him, the rubbery grips on the tips of his fingers scratching his stubbly chin as he considered their next course of action.

“I agree that we can’t simply imprison our entire Krell population, and there remains many unanswered questions. Why is this happening only now? The Krell have worked alongside humans for twenty years and we’ve never observed this behavior before. Nor can we flush the vents, I’m pretty sure the wholesale massacre of their offspring won’t be taken kindly.”

“Right now we have two problems,” Reid added. “Removing the existing spawn from the vents, and preventing them from producing more. I’m going to recommend removing as many females from the general Krell population as we are able to identify, and then isolating them in a separate building. Put them in the gym perhaps and close it off, they won’t mind that I’m sure, have someone on hand to observe them and make sure no breeding is taking place.”