• “Today we are opening container SGY/-235K869 in Chamber J87,” Hikta said to me, her fingers flying across the acid green key pad while she walked, its low clicking mingled with the sounds of her shoes on the metal grid underfoot.

    “SGY? Is it a full-blooded human?” I asked, glancing at her holographic screen for a possible answer if she decided not to respond

    “Yes. I feel sympathy for it: in suspended animation for over eleven-hundred turns,” Hikta made a small ‘tsk’ sound, shaking her head with her eyes still on the screen.

    I nodded slightly. It would be hard to keep it from becoming a target. There were not any full-blooded humans left; the DNA strand was mutated and watered-down beyond repair almost three-hundred turns before I was even conceived.

    The two of us halted outside of Chamber J87 while the automated system confirmed our identities matched the serial codes we punched in. The door swished open and Hikta led the way inward.

    I restrained myself from directing my line of vision towards any of the open-glass containments; I had been working in this sector of the building for over four turns and I still could not bear looking at its detainees while they remained in such a weakened state.

    Hikta opened another door, leading me into a closed off quarter. The containments here were not transparent like the other ones.

    She kept ambulating, even after the containers barcodes ceased making sense.

    Hikta came to a stop at the very end of the alignment, reaching up to wipe grime off of the barcode above to automatic hatch. This container looked depressingly outdated, but Hikta did say that it would be over eleven-hundred turns old.

    Hikta turned to me.

    “This organism will be in your custody until it has been assigned, correct?” The standard question flew from her mouth in a practiced manner.

    “Correct,” I confirmed.

    She passed me an Lqi disk, “This was all we could find on the human.”

    I entered its code into my wrist monitor, watching the information appear on the screen in black, block types.

    Gender: Male
    Race: Human
    Age: Approximately 20 turns
    BT: O positive
    Genes: un-tampered
    Deformities: none found


    There was surprisingly little, much less than I expected.

    Hikta slid a strange looking orange card into a slot on the side of the container. The light above the hatch blinked several times before transferring pigments. An outdated buzzing noise sounded, a minimal warning from the volume of it.

    The nano-serum tapered, the drain making a loud sound when it had all been removed. The clasps around one edge of the hatch popped dully as they slid undone. Hikta outstretched her hand for the handle, yanking it out.

    Several titanium straps held the human from lurching forward out of his container. The remaining serum that managed to cling to his skin distorted the coloring, giving his entire body a yellowish tint.

    “What is his designated title?” I asked Hikta, who had called two others to bring a hover-slab.

    “It wasn’t given. Request it when he gains consciousness,” she told me, leaving.

    I accompanied the others down to the examination sector. They shifted the human to the CT table and handed me a set of packaged indoor clothing, leaving information that the human would awaken as soon as he had been given a full systems check and vaccinations.

    The table lapsed back out after fifteen minutes of working over.

    I approached, not flinching as I would have at the scent of his newly sanitized skin. The human made no effort to move, but his eyes cracked open and revolved around the ceiling before fixing on me.

    Unusually brown irises gazed unblinkingly up at me, probably because he had never seen a Jilaon before.

    I leaned over him slightly, making my voice as soft so not to frighten him, “What is your title?”

    “Title?” His voice sounded extremely drowsy.

    I paused, thinking, before saying, “Correct, I believe it would be your name.”

    “Thomas,” He blinked slowly, “Aren’t you going to tell me yours?”

    “Eila,” I unsealed the package, “You should dress. I will accompany you to get something to devour.”

    Thomas propped himself up, apparently surprised at his nudity, and took the clothes from my hands. I faced the wall to give him privacy.

    “What’s this?” He asked suddenly.

    I turned around, almost surprised to see his outturned wrist in close proximity. “Are you speaking about the identification code?”

    “Indenti-what? What’s it for?” He turned his wrist back towards his own face, examining the freshly lasered ink.

    “It is to prevent confusion,” I told him, pushing up my sleeve to let him see my own as proof.

    “Why? Can’t you tell the difference?” Thomas ran his thumb over the code.

    “People may be able to, but the computers cannot,” I answered.

    Thomas didn’t reply, still focusing on his code.

    “Finish dressing, I imagine you need nourishment,” I said, turning back to the wall.

    He complied, pulling the tunic sleeves over his arms.

    “I have a question,” He said suddenly.

    “What is it?”

    “Why do you care? About me, I mean?” His voice became muffled as he pulled the tunic all the way over his head.

    “I am your designated guide. My job is to ensure your safety until you are re-assigned,” I answered over my shoulder.

    “Your job? So, what if I don’t get…uh…reassigned? What happens then?”

    “That would be a severe anomaly, but if it were to happen, then I would stay as your guide until you are,” I replied.

    “Oh,” Thomas plucked a wrist monitor out of a basket. He turned it over in his hands. “What’s this?”

    “It is a monitor….It supplies you with any information you may need, receives and sends messages, and monitors your vitals,” I added when he directed a confused look at me.

    I fitted the monitor on his arm while he slid on the shoes provided.

    The both of use were halfway to the mess hall when he spoke again.

    “Uh, Eila?” He muttered.

    “What is it?” I continued walking, pulling him along by his upper arm.

    “Why exactly are you gripping my arm like I can’t walk on my own?”

    “Oh, do not feel it as a personal hit. It is just to make the Trois’ aware that you are in my custody,” I readjusted my hand placement to his elbow. “More comfortable?”

    He made a grunting sound I could not understand.

    Most of the freshly awakened hold massive appetites, the new containers requiring sixteen hours without nourishment before going under; Thomas did not. He merely gave the ration a disinterested look, sliding it an inch forward as a sign that he was not going to eat it.

    “What year is it?” He asked, glancing around the half empty mess hall.

    “Today’s date is March 25, 4627,” I answered, tearing my roll into portions. Thomas made a surprised noise, followed by a low whistle. “Is something wrong?”

    “Nah, it’s just that the last time I checked the calendar, it was 2067,” He gazed around the hall once more.

    It was my turn to be startled. Is that why he was a full-blooded human? Because he went under three turns before cross-species mating became legal?

    “I feel a little annoying asking all these questions-“ he began.

    “It is quite all right. It is my job and I am unable to become annoyed.”

    “-but, where are we?” He finished as if I had never spoken.

    “The Rouge space station,” I answered.

    “But I went under on Earth,” He sputtered.

    “Everything of value was removed from the planet during its evacuation,” I responded.

    Thomas opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then closed it, and opened it again, repeating the pattern several times; he reminded me of a Fugfish flapping out of the water, gasping to fill its gills with water.

    “Why-“

    He was cut off by a dig from my monitor, its screen flashing slightly.

    I tapped the keys, my eyes scanning the information displayed.

    “What’s it say?” Thomas twisted around in a futile attempt to read the quickly moving types.

    “It says that you have been re-assigned.”

    ~~~~~~~~~~~
    Author's note: So you know, I posted this on Fictionpress.com, so no one come tell me that I stole it. Hope you enjoyed it.