MOTHERS

◙twenty-seven◙

Before she barged out into the corridor to put the fear of death into the four mothers, Lola had spent several moments hyperventilating in the room she'd isolated herself in—a laboratory, possibly the very one she'd been conceived in. Its glass tables were covered in test tubes and unused syringes, and with colored vials, some of which were knocked over and drizzling purple liquid onto the white-tiled floor.

She'd stared at the chemicals set up on shelves, wondering if she'd been stored up there at one time, a tiny embryo waiting to be implanted. Labeled alien DNA and later inserted into one of the syringes that was injected into her mother's womb.

No one had ever told her what her human mother's name was, but she'd read it in their minds—Tegan. A nice name, she thought, with a nice ring to it. But there had been nothing nice about the woman earlier, when she'd stood before her fellow mothers in defense, as if to protect them against Lola and her wrath. Lola had no wrath, and certainly not towards the woman who'd given birth to her. She didn't like humans, she didn't like what the laboratory had done to her after her arrival; but she had no reason to harm Tegan.

Yet the sentiments she'd gathered from Tegan were negative, prejudicial. She couldn't get over the fact that she'd held an alien inside her, that she'd consented to let humans associated with aliens use her body. And the snarl she'd sent towards Lola, the pressure building underneath her skin, had been unbearable.

So Lola left them to their own devices, though tuning into the conversation from time to time, to gauge their emotions and figure out the level of danger they presented. These mothers were in fact dangerous; their very existence put Lola's entire family at risk. Vessels to create more of Lola's species on earth? They were valuable, and the American government might become violent to prevent those vessels from assisting Lola and her siblings in their mission.

And yes, Lola and her siblings needed the women... but what would the aliens do if those women sought to harm them? Would they transform into their true forms and slice the mothers' heads off? Or would they forgive them, since they were to produce more of their species and help them dismantle a corrupt government, a planet racing towards self-destruction?

"You worry," said the alien queen, immersing herself into Lola's mind without invitation—as usual. She took on a tone of reproach, of superiority that rubbed Lola the wrong way.

How quickly the voice had changed from a simple, bland tone tiptoeing inside Lola's brain to her true, blood-relation, her mother, a queen of their species, and a blood-lustful one at that. A scorned creature who wanted revenge on those who'd tricked her, who'd locked her children up and experimented on them for their own sordid goals.

She was no longer soft in her words, no longer cryptic in her speeches. The queen now made it clear she was in charge, not Lola. Lola still had a long, long way ahead of her before they'd be safe enough to let their guard down, before the truth of their plans would come to fruition.

"Of course I worry," said Lola, out loud, not feeling the need to hide her private communications with her mother while confined in a lab-room. The chemical scent was getting to her, and she pinched her sinuses, rubbing her skin for relief. An alien, she was, with super-powers and super-strength; yet she couldn't prevent bad smells from infesting her nostrils and giving her headaches. "How could I not? Nothing is going according to plan."

"There was no plan, Lola. You were to be patient, to wait, and everything would come to you."

"Well I waited, and nothing came. You told me to get Rivo and Star out, so I did. That Cole would be completing our group, that he'd been on his own mission—a mission to bring the mothers here? In the middle of a bloodbath that you asked us to create?" Lola huffed. "You expected them to cooperate amidst this chaos? They're debating right now, deciding how to leave. They don't want to be here, they don't want to obey us. They're terrified, and I must say, as much as I dislike them, I understand. Thanks to this empathy—did you know about that? Did you know I'd be developing that ability?"