Chapter 8
Mokvel and two Observers watch their human captive as he paces his cell like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to try and escape their grasp.
The journey to the holding cells felt longer than it probably was and his two hearts pounded with every step. The Terran’s fury remained present in his mind and as he entered the circular corridor the heat of the white lights above almost made him want to turn and run back the way he came. The holding cells were on each side of a half circle and in the middle sat a long section used to discreetly observe those held prisoner.
Mokvel entered the code and passed one observation room after another until finally, he settled on the one watching the Terran. Two observers were also present and they greeted him with a silent nod.
“How’s he doing?”
“Pacing. To an uncomfortable degree. It’s dizzying to watch,” said the observer closest to him.
“And he has just been pacing? Nothing else.”
“He chatters to himself but too quietly for us to hear.”
Mokvel stepped forward and rested on the back of their chair. “He killed two protectors like they were nothing. We need to be extremely careful with how we handle him.”
“There are already arrangements to have them watched on rotation. These cells were made to hold things far more dangerous that’s for sure.”
“I fear underestimating him is exactly what he wants.”
The Terran ceased pacing and approached what to him would be a blank-looking wall. What he couldn't see was that it was a two-way mirror visible from only one side. He put his ear to the wall and his breaths became longer and more drawn out. Mokvel smiled. “Can he hear us?”
“It’s not impossible,” said the other observer.
The Terran bared his teeth leaned back and began talking out loud in a mix of grunts and growls. Even if they couldn't understand, there was venom in every word.
“Can you run that through our translation filter?” Asked Mokvel.
“I can try, but his speech is -”
“Primitive.”
“That too. But nothing we haven’t figured out before. Anyhow, he should be understandable any second -”
“AM GETTING OUT. YOU CAN’T HOLD ME. I WILL GUT ALL OF YOU.”
The observer turned the mic volume down. “Should have expected that.”
“He’s angry then.”
“Very angry.”
The Terran looked back toward the force field and faced it. He charged at it full pelt to the horror of all the observers except Mokvel. The Terran hit the wall of energy hard enough to launch him back to the ground, his face and arms smoked with clearly visible burn marks lining his skin.
“We need a med—” said the closest observer as they stood up.
Mokvel knocked their hand off the comm button.
“But he’s hurt.”
“He’ll recover. He wanted us to lower the field.”
“You think that was a trick?” asked the other still-seated observer.
“What else could it be?”
“The act of a dumb ape, thinking he’s smarter than he is,” said the Overseer.
Mokvel didn’t even hear him enter. He wandered over and joined Mokvel’s side.
“What would you suggest we do with him?”
“High Command might be interested if we can get more of them.”
“You want to bring more on board?” Mokvel asked astonished by such a proposition.
“The Warbands would be even more of a force to be reckoned with if we got a few more.”
Mokvel blinked a few times and saw the Terran pull himself up to his knees, he looked like he was rubbing his brow but in truth, he was probably listening even if he couldn't understand them. "I've seen one kill two of us, easily. Imagine what a tribe can do. That's a dangerous gambit."
“It could also give us a lot of leverage with High Command,” said the Overseer. “It’s just a suggestion. Our terminal network is keeping this one’s existence under the grid.”
“Good, because the less others know, the better.”