(REWRITING) The Skylar Experiment : Coveting

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Pacific Coast

THE DAY BEFORE...

THE VESSEL LURCHED and creaked.

The massive guard shifted his weight by the hatch door as the submarine glided along the deep. It approached the west coast slowly, evenly, bearing through the ocean's pressure. After berthing a military port, the crew would trade the industrial cargo and deploy a SEAL team in exchange.

It didn't sound complicated, just standard procedure, except for one component of the cargo.

The guard stood by the slender figure poised on a metal chair bolted to the floor. Long obscure hair hid most of its features, and its wrists and ankles were chained. 

Despite being assured that it wouldn't act out, its simple presence was enough to give a grown, professional soldier the heebie jeebies. Something about the girl's eyes reminded him of a blackbird ; settled, patient. Pitiless.

The door's wheel spun and the replacement sauntered in. He nodded to indicate it was time for the surveillance shift. The man glanced one last time at their live haul before conceding his spot. He tapped his colleague's shoulder.

"Have fun." If anything, besides the creepy factor, monitoring this creature was beyond dull.

His head bobbed with a huff. The soldier closed the door on his way out and walked along a narrow circular corridor he barely fit in. The submarine lurched again, but he'd grown immune to the motion. He scaled a steel ladder and climbed to an upper floor, crawling out of a trap opening. He headed to a cramped room with racks of beds.

A comrade woke for his shift, leaving a free bunk. Because of the short trip, the staff hadn't gotten used to the stink of oil and that made it hard to fall asleep.

Minutes and hours dripped by in the silent chamber. The new guard struggled to keep his eyes peeled. No matter what, this thing never spoke back; nowadays, they just expect soldiers like himself to handle them without a shred of information. 

"What did they put in ya to make ya like this, anyway? Started out human, right?"

The shiny midnight head lifted.

"I know ya speak english."

Delicate fingers drummed off the chair's arm, the faint mark of a smirk flashing. The guard inflated his chest. He stepped forward and kneeled to get a good look under all those tangled strands.

"What is it, animal DNA? Lizard people? Even a goddamn komodo dragon makes for better company."

Finally, it responded, "It's the chemtrails."

The soldier fell back on one knee. "My, my. Tongue works. Days of traveling, and now you decide to grace me with the sound of your voice."  

"You should consider singlehandedly proving God's existence with this sort of endless pestering."

"A funny one we have here. And not capable of behaving like your friends, ain't it? Otherwise, ya wouldn't be stuck here." The detainee spent minutes without engaging, then lost interest. He smiled big. "We still got a while until beaching, so tell me. Which part of your humanity did they sacrifice to create their killing machine on the field?"

This time, it didn't miss a damn beat. "Same one you did when you signed up."

"I fight for family and freedom. I don't think you understand any of 'em if ya think war's a choice. This job, it's all about saving humanity."

"I don't need to understand." Her voice meandered, satinlike. "My job is to be better than you."

He stared into that startling, mocking set of eyes and a wave of disgust gripped him. The purpose and outcome of this was pure scientific greed, and it worked. But playing God with the human race, it went against every reasonable belief and everything his country was fighting for. What would the consequences be?