November One Shot: Drek & Snek Pt. 3

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Drake said hesitantly, looking the Gorgon over. He’d tended to her rock-like natural armor for the better part of the morning and early afternoon. He was thankful for the repetitive task, if only because it distracted him from the fact that the Gorgon’s chest was swollen with venom again and he had no idea if or how the minute amount of caffeine she’d taken into her system would affect her. In the end, by the time Natori returned shortly after lunch with a plate of sandwiches, the most she’d moved was to allow Drake access to a different portion of her jagged, armored growths. As soon as she understood he was done with her, she slithered away from where they’d been working, ignoring him quite obviously as she ran her fingers over her earthen epidermis, testing the surface. A thin trail of coffee was left on the floor as well, though she’d taken almost all the heat in the mug into her body during that time. Drake hardly considered it a lost cause, but he wasn’t about to drink it. Making a mental note to return with a workshop vacuum or something similar, the crisis negotiator bid her an official farewell and departed.

“Bologna?” Kaczynski offered, extending a tray with wheat bread and passable looking meat between it. There was even a pickle slice for him.

“You sure that’s actually meat?” Drake asked, nevertheless accepting and joining Natori in a chair to take a meal and observe the Gorgon. She seemed off put, coiled in a corner of the room with nothing to do.

“I’m sure it’s not actual meat,” the taller man replied pleasantly. “However in the case of cold cuts I’m not sure it makes much of a difference. Perhaps one day we’ll be able to print filet mignon, but I suspect that may prove more elusive than FTL travel.”

“Maybe some aliens will gift us that tech too,” Drake chuckled humorously. Natori nodded.

“Mmm, and what strings would come attached to delectable meat on demand? Surely worse than this! That’s one thing I like about the Gorgons, Mr. Thane. They are proud.”

“Maybe the Ghaelen just can’t bring themselves to do what they’ve asked of us, sir? That sort of introspection takes some amount of courage,” Drake countered. Natori mulled that perspective over as he chewed another bite.

“You are correct, Mr. Thane, but that doesn’t change the fact that we lost many brave men and women down there on Udanis. Nor does it change where we stand in terms of trying to make peace. Thank you for your efforts so far. She looks much more… approachable now.”

“I get the sneaking suspicion she’d still dissolve you on sight, sir. And it only gets harder from here,” Drake warned, taking a bite of the pickle. He was rewarded with a pleasant crunch of the skin as salty and spicy flavors spread across his tongue. “Hey, now that’s pretty good!”

“A couple of the chefs pickle them themselves. Brewing and preserving foods are excellent pastimes to pursue in space, as they were during the seafaring ages. But what did you mean about it getting harder from here?”

“Her language, sir. We exchanged names; at least I think we did.” To his surprise Natori laughed boisterously.

“Ah, the sound of progress! Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Thane. You simply managed to frame the situation in a humorous light. So what is her name?”

“I can’t really repeat it, sir. Assuming it was her name at all, it was a series of hissing and rumbling sounds. No syllables or even tones.”

“Yes well, I can’t say that’s unexpected given the ample amount of Gorgon communications we intercepted during the pacification effort. It does make our job rather difficult,” Kaczynski admitted unconcernedly, taking another bite of his lunch.

“I’m not sure what else I can do, sir. At least the Ghaelen have a relatively human-like language. Understanding them was a bit like being a native English speaker dropped into France or Spain. Sure you don’t know the words, but the letters and sounds are familiar to you and the meaning of a word is derived from its spelling. This is going to be like a westerner trying to learn Cantonese on the fly. You don’t understand the alphabet, and the same word can have several different meanings depending on the tone you use to speak it. I could speak with her for the rest of my life and I’m not sure how much I would actually comprehend beyond pattern recognition, especially if she’s contained within that cell. She can’t give context to anything.”

Kaczynski hummed quietly. “I hear you, Mr. Thane, but surely you understand why I cannot allow her to simply roam the ship?”

“Of course, sir. I was just presenting my honest evaluation of the situation. Has there been an attempt to produce a translation program of some sort?” Drake wondered. Natori nodded.

“There was indeed, though that effort was deprioritized significantly when the Gorgons officially surrendered. Understanding their language was no longer a matter of battlefield significance, and so it fell to Alpha division to finish that work. Their presence in this system remains small, though it will grow stronger over the coming months.”

“What should I do in the meantime, sir?” Thane asked further. “I mean, the pay is good but I’m not sure what else I can accomplish here.”

“You can be her friend, Mr. Thane,” Natori answered quickly, as though that had been the point the entire time. “Were she any other Gorgon I would have likely proposed she be released back on the surface. But as you know she is one of the sole survivors of the Queen’s nest. She is valuable and she is a security risk. From what I have seen of these aliens they are a proud and noble people, but pride and nobility both provide ample justification for vengeance. She has more reason than most. This is a difficult situation for you, Mr. Thane, and I feel it important that you hear so directly from me. Here in the military, orders are often black or white. You’ll have to forgive me and my Beta division disposition, I suppose, for offering you a task in shades of grey.”

“It’s not a problem, Admiral. I just don’t want to disappoint. Damn, these are good pickles. That’s not jalapeno. Cayenne?”

“Aren’t they wonderful?” Natori agreed happily. “To answer your question I believe the answer is neither. One of the chefs is a Vietnamese native, or perhaps his family are, I can’t recall. What I do remember is his request for one bird’s eye pepper plant to be brought aboard. The energy and water consumption was acceptable, so the request was approved. I daresay we’re enjoying the fruits of his labor today. I only wish that the art of a fine cup of coffee were so easily transferable to space!”

“You and me both, Admiral Kaczynski. I’ll see what I can do with the Gorgon,” Drake promised, wiping a bit of synthetic mustard from his lip.

“So far as I am concerned you have already completed the task I brought you here for, but I am hopeful that perhaps there is yet more to glean from this project. I encourage you to experiment and, if you run into the inevitable red tape that defines military life, do not hesitate to contact me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you for your confidence. Where can I find an electric blanket or some other heat source?” Natori smiled.

“Already thinking of the next steps? Fabulous. I’m sure you can understand why there are no outlets in her cell but I am sure I could arrange for one to be delivered here. We have a model that’s meant for use out in the field. You believe she is cold?”

“Hard to say, sir. Just because she enjoyed absorbing the heat from my coffee doesn’t mean she was cold necessarily. Do we know if they’re endothermic?”

“We do not, Mr. Thane. However what I can tell you is that we have not noticed anything like shivering or other behavior that would indicate her attempting to increase her own body temperature.” Kaczynski took a small notepad and pencil from his breast pocket and jotted down a few notes.

“You still use pen and paper, sir?” Drake wondered, impressed.

“Nothing is more secure!” Natori answered, glancing up quickly before returning to his notes. “However I also just enjoy the feeling of graphite on paper. It helps me to organize and collect my thoughts, if you will. Perhaps heat to our friend here is like caffeine and coffee to me or you?”

“That’s what I hope to find out, sir,” Drake affirmed, scratching his chin. “Pretty hard to think of anything else at the moment.”

“I’m sure I can have one here within the hour, Mr. Thane.”

“Not necessary, sir. Tomorrow morning should be fine,” Drake pushed back politely. Natori cocked a brow before casting a glance towards the Gorgon herself. She was curled up in a corner, her tail almost returned to its normal color.

“Not that I inherently approve or disapprove, but why wait?”

“We don’t understand her, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand us. I told her I’d be back tomorrow when I left. I figured I should keep my word is all,” the civilian explained. Kaczynski rested his elbows on the table.

“I must admit that’s a rather terrifying thought, though I cannot fault your reasoning. That should be plenty of time to fulfill your request. Anything else, Mr. Thane?”

“Just something to clean up the rock shavings I think.”

“Even all the way out here there’s no substitute for a shop vac,” Natori laughed. “Just try to save a bit for the scientists, will you Mr. Thane? We’ve not had a chance to examine any sort of samples from a live Gorgon.”

Drake nodded as the two men stood, collectively agreeing to break for the day. “I’ll do what I can, sir.”

\----

“Good morning Ashti. Can I call you Ashti? I don’t really speak snake and I think if I started hissing at you you’d melt me, so how about Ashti? You can call me whatever Drake is in hiss, though I suppose you could just as easily call me a white skinned, dark haired, monkey devil and I’d have no idea. Did you sleep alright? I brought you some things,” he explained, having lugged a rather rudimentary vacuum up from one of the weaponsmiths along with various sample collection kits, a thermos of coffee, and one of the blankets Natori had promised. ‘Ashti’ watched him with suspicious eyes from her corner as he went about scooping up a bit of her chipped and ground down armor. The problem came when he turned on the vacuum, only to have Ashti rear up and make ready to soak him and it in acid with a vicious hiss.

“No no no no no!” Drake yelled, killing the suction and holding up the blanket in front of him. He was sure he looked ridiculous, but it had stayed her assault at any rate. Leaving cleaning aside for the time being, Drake initiated the internal chemical reaction that was meant to provide heat out in the field and offered the item to her. The Gorgon’s suspicious glare did not change, but she did slither over to him and cease the telltale contractions of her intercostal muscles that usually heralded a gout of sickly green acid. She extended and flicked her tongue first. He assumed she was sampling the air around them, though he had no way to be sure. Finding nothing compelling, she then poked the blanket with a finger, then her tail. It was at that moment she realized the item was giving off a pleasant heat, and that Drake’s body language was obviously offering it to her. The item was snatched away from him in a blur, and Drake found himself subsequently unaccosted as he finished cleaning up her little space. He understood Natori’s perspective but that didn’t mean she didn’t deserve somewhere clean, especially when it was his fault there was dust all over the place. The man flushed as he considered the fact that she’d likely been surveilled while defecating or otherwise going about her necessary bodily functions for some time, and made a note not to ask. He doubted that would change in any way due to security considerations. By the time he was finished, Drake could not help but smile.

“You’re very terrifying, Ashti,” he remarked in an almost friendly tone, finding that Gorgons could curl their bodies into very space efficient shapes when they had a mind to. She had managed to hide away the entirety of her form in a coiled heap beneath the blanket. Only her head poked out so she could glare at him, of course, and occasionally flick her tongue his way as well. What skin was visible underneath the rocky ‘faceplate’ that covered where her nose would be, he could see was turning a brighter shade of lime green. She may not have needed excess heat, but she certainly seemed to enjoy it. He wondered if the Admiral was watching, deciding that if he was, he was surely having a fine chuckle of his own. Drake had not seen the man on the way in, but Natori seemed to have a sixth sense for getting his nose into interesting events at precisely the right time, or wrong time depending on one’s perspective.

“So, what shall we do today?” Thane wondered, seating himself against a wall so he could enjoy his coffee. As he and Natori had discussed, space coffee was anything but artisan. Its appeal remained nevertheless. It was difficult to replace the combination of smell, warmth, and caffeine. “Ah, that’s good.”

Ashti hissed at him insistently, and he glanced back at her instead of the ceiling, cocking his head in question. “Can I help you?” Her subsequent hiss was accompanied by a deeper rumbling, likely from somewhere in her chest. She extended her neck towards him, his coffee more specifically, before returning to her rest under the blanket. “Oh no, not today. I’ll be drinking this,” Thane insisted. Ashti’s reply was to send a tiny amount of acid flying his way which impacted the cheap, disposable container he was using to hold his brew. The human leapt to his feet as the contents spilled to the floor, threatening to scald his crotch. He was one hundred percent confident that Natori was indeed laughing at him at that moment. “Well are you happy now? Good luck enjoying it like that,” Drake scolded her. Ashti snapped right back at his tone, indignant and upset. After he got over the shock of losing the bottom of his cup of coffee he understood well enough. Why should he get nice things in her domain when he summoned the woman who slaughtered her comrades to beat her into submission? With a silent nod Drake stood, took his cup and the vacuum, as well as the few samples he’d taken from her ground down armor, and departed. The cup was trashed and the samples turned over to one of the on duty Marines who knew where they were supposed to go. As suspected, Natori was indeed there and regarding him with a wide smile.

“Were it not for the acid I’d go so far as to say she’s rather cute when she’s angry and warm.”

“Say that when you’re the one getting acid shot at him. How the hell does that crap work anyway? How does she not die?” Drake demanded, not necessarily of Natori specifically. The Admiral responded anyway.

“We’ve dissected a few specimens, including… fresh kills, let’s say. Their venom glands behave similarly to our own stomachs, replacing themselves constantly. At least that’s what I understand of it. There is quite a bit about their cellular structure we have no idea what to do with yet. That and the liquid there is not the same acid that just assaulted your morning brew, Mr. Thane.”

“What do you mean, Admiral?” he wondered. “And would it be possible to get a second cup? I need to impress something upon her.”

“I both enjoy and dislike the sound of that statement, Mr. Thane. Maria?”

‘Yes, Rear Admiral Natori Kaczynski?’

“Good morning, Maria. Mr. Thane here lost his morning coffee in the line of duty. Could you send for a replacement to be delivered here to the interrogation blocs?” he requested.

‘Of course, Rear Admiral Kaczynski.’

“Well that takes care of that,” Natori said, clapping his hands together definitively. “Now to your question, Mr. Thane. My understanding is that Gorgon acid is a volatile mixture of compounds, all of which are stored separately within their bodies. Those ‘breasts’ that they sport are simply the largest of the containers.”

“Aren’t there some insects who do that?” Thane responded.

“Far more than a handful of exploding beetles, but yes, Mr. Thane,” Natori confirmed. “If you prefer an analogy closer to home, one of the xenobiologists in training on staff likened it to the human male reproductive system.”

Drake blinked quietly before looking back at Ashti through the one way glass. “I think I’ll stick with the beetles, sir.”

“It is best not to draw too many parallels to Terran biology either way, Mr. Thane, though I admit the temptation is ever present. Ah, Maria does quick work! Here is your coffee,” Natori said, taking the styrofoam cup from a small drone on treads that had been allowed entry to the interrogation facilities. Drake took the cup with thanks, inhaled deeply, smiled, and flicked the transparency switch to Ashti’s cell. The Gorgon’s eyes snapped towards them immediately, narrowing as her interlocutor took a sip and allowed an exaggerated look of contentment and satisfaction to play over his face. Though Ashti did not deign the provocation worthy of retaliation, her body language made it clear it would not be forgotten, watching almost unblinkingly the entire duration of time over which Drake finally got his chance to caffeinate. When he was finished, he adopted a serious expression and waved goodbye before restoring the glass to its interrogation functionality.

“How did you know she wouldn’t immediately dissolve it again?” Natori asked.

“She’s hardly an idiot, Rear Admiral. I didn’t know, per se, but she knows we’ve been here all this while, or at least that the glass is where it is. She’s decided it’s not worth her time,” Drake postulated.

“Be that as it may, something tells me that getting back at you for that particular slight won’t be beneath her,” Kaczynski warned.

“Assuming it doesn’t kill me, sir, I think you’ll be quite interested.”

Natori clapped his hands together in anticipation. “Oh I’ll be interested either way, Mr. Thane. I will be hoping for your survival!”