Savage By Nature Read online

  She clambered out of bed and sought the bathroom, shedding her clothes en route.

  After a thorough wash, she got dressed in a clean uniform, dumping the others in the laundry chute. This evening she eluded the application of makeup and was satisfied with her emotional dissatisfaction. Sure, she heavily wondered what had been so monumental about their productivity in the labs earlier that meant postponing the tour another day—but she wasn’t pleased with dwelling on it.

  Especially with dreams like those…

  Feeling an odd rumble tilting her stomach, Felina exited the room with the main cafeteria on her mind. She wanted to get there first, before it stormed with Manticore crew, and would sit at the table she recalled seeing Madhavari and some other lab-coats occupy at lunchtime.

  When she arrived, the servers weren’t even at the counter, but she could see most of the food was already prepared in their partitions. Some were empty, leaving her to wonder if there were any surprises in the kitchen.

  The fact that this was even slightly piquing her curiosity truly meant things were offset aboard the Manticore. The vessel itself, its personnel, its projects, its equipment, any of these things should have been what stippled her mind in deep thought…

  Not what’s on the menu tonight?

  So she lingered until about the ten minute marker before noon and a server glimpsed her by the counter. Her came to the edge, donning a white uniform and apron, with a clean-shaven both face and head.

  “Dinner’s in ten, you can take a seat ‘til then.”

  “Even me?” Felina asked, pouting theatrically and raising her eyebrows.

  “Oh, my apologies…Ms. Sabartinelli,” he said after squinting at her ID tag. “I didn’t realize you were a Manticore visitor; some of these uniforms, they can be confusing.”

  “Very understandable.”

  “Right, well, then what would you like today?”

  “Hmm,” Felina contemplated, snagging a tray. She asked about the empty spots.

  “Lasagna, beef goulash, and down here our Caesar chicken salad.”

  “I will have the goulash, with some peas and salad. Extra croutons, please.” Felina smiled. “Oh, and an A&W. Thank you.”

  The server gladly obliged, filling the tray and wishing her a great meal. She thanked him, he returned to the kitchen, and she occupied that particular table she’d had in mind earlier.

  When she sat, the announcement rang out and within two minutes Manticore personnel were entering the cafeteria, already staring at her as if this was grade school. She smiled as she ate, not looking at anyone unless they passed her field of view, and only then did she smile, typically in the midst of chewing.

  Finally a white uniform flashed before her and a familiar face accompanied it across the table. It was Madhavari, and he didn’t look very pleased; his expression was of utter concern, fatigue, and vexation. She assumed these were all causes outside of the cafeteria, further stirring her curiosity.

  “Well, you’re here early,” Madhavari gnashed.

  “Easy, now,” she said, half-smirking. She took a swig of her A&W then relished in the taste before cutting off Madhavari to give her own two cents. “You boys down in the labs are the reason why I’m here so early. Wanna disclose some info or am I really gonna have to wait ‘til tomorrow?”

  “Oh, you’ll wait. Be patient, Sabartinelli. I am rather intrigued as to what your reaction will be, but nonetheless be patient and mindful. Perhaps I’ll see you then.”

  It was swifter than Felina expected, curter too, though despite his attitude at first he proved to be rather cordial in the long run. Felina didn’t fold just yet, didn’t let herself focus on any one person much less a scientist, so she didn’t let her eyes track him as he left the table.

  Instead she was quickly rejoined by someone else, a familiar face far more accustomed—and comforting—than Madhavari.

  Lorenzo Godunov.

  “Look who’s hungry,” he said quietly, leaning forward with hands fidgeting on the table.

  “Figured I’d get here early, before the assholes-and-elbows routine.”

  “Well, then,” Godunov half-smirked, taken aback. He cleared his throat then leaned forward, head tilted, ponytail accompanying. His voice dipped into a hushed volume. “Any theories on their infamous delay?”

  “Theories?” Felina repeated back to him, except in a normal volume if not higher, which made him cringe then glower at her. She grinned, let it fade, and then lowered her voice to placate his nerves. “Oh, I dunno, Godunov. I’ve got a few, but they’re a bit…radical.”

  “Humor me,” he said with a heavy brow.

  “An experiment gone wrong, probably the most likely and I imagine the most paranoid guess,” she replied hush-hush. “In accordance with botched research, maybe something hostile like a toxic spill or anything acidic. Could be weapons malfunction, all this time we think they’re researching space debris but really they’re just—”

  “A high-tech weapons manufacturer,” Calloway stole the words from her mouth as he swept behind her, head dipped low to her right just to deliver the concise interruption. His self-satisfaction was ear-to-ear, and he sat with his tray directly beside her. In an empty partition of his tray was, little to her surprise, that damn Rubik’s Sphere. She rolled her eyes at his sheer arrival, then his grin toned it down and he shrugged. “In the early development stage, of course.”

  “Right, well, weapons or toxins…” Felina sighed the words out as she spooned more goulash. Her head rolled on her shoulders and she swallowed, then shoveled some salad to consume before airing the rest of her thoughts. “Either way, they’re up to no good, a blind man could see that.”

  “And we’re all well aware you’re no Helen Keller,” Calloway said with a smirk, bobbing his head like an owl.

  “Thanks for the history lesson, Calloway,” Felina said, sounding bored. “I’m glad you managed to find your way back to the cafeteria after I ditched your ass.”

  “Ouch,” Godunov chuckled under his breath.

  “Take it easy, Heinz,” Calloway shot him a crooked eye.

  “You boys seem to be on the right foot,” Felina said. She was just about done with her tray and it wasn’t even 2:30 yet. She took a copious swig of her soda before demolishing the rest of the food in front of her, leaving only specks of leftovers. “But since we all have a rather enlightening morning ahead of us—supposing there are no more postponements—I think I’m gonna hop off mine for a bit.”

  With that, Felina left the table in a smooth manner and just as Baxter sat down. She gave Felina a bewildered look, returned by an expression that insinuated “good luck with them.” Felina wore a confident smirk as she walked to the trash receptacle and tray station, feeling over two dozen eyes on her, most of them not too amicable. Once she exited the cafeteria and was strolling down the corridors, her expression degraded to a solemn look and her pace gained speed. She grew paranoid with every other step, eventually finding her way to the lounging facility, where only two others were already there.

  One was a fair-haired man in a gray uniform, passed out from apparent fatigue in a Chaise lounge chair. The other was Schuman in a rattan bowl chair, his right ankle resting on his knee, PDA in-hand. He didn’t seem to notice her presence until she took a seat in a recliner to his right.

  “I wouldn’t go to sleep if I were you,” he said without lifting his head or diverting his gaze.

  “Why not?” Felina asked, comfortably reclining.

  “Nightmares. Some got to me earlier, when I tried to nap. Strange things. Such strange things.”

  Felina leaned forward, intrigued by his voice.

  He continued to stare at his PDA, and she could tell even from where she sat that he still read it, or seemed to, based on his scanning eye movements. But his voice lilted on occasion as he spoke; he wasn’t just rambling.

  “I dreamt of enigmas. Obscurity. Serpentine, almost. Shapes and things in tubes. Like big medical vats, not cryogenic pods
. Twisting, twitching. No specifics.” Schuman sighed and swiped on his PDA. A minuscule smile broke the monotony of his expression, for a fleeting moment. “And then memories. Of my ex-wife. The good times, not the cancer. Our pets, our son as a child. Not the car accident. But when he was happy, smiling. When we all were.”

  Felina was taken aback, despite leaning forward.

  “I can relate,” she said softly, and now it was her own eyes drifting away. And only then did Schuman look up, his gaze observing her without judgment, but intrigue. For a moment Felina felt detached, her voice as if not her own, an extension of her brain yet leaping off her tongue in zero-gravity. “The dreams were…strange, and terrible. But also pleasant. Memories and faces, fresh and past alike. Happy, content. And the stars, the beauty of all this…and the Manticore, then back to the misshapen shadows again.”

  “So you tell me, Sabartinelli,” Schuman asked, and finally she lifted her eyes to meet his. He was half-smirking. “Do you really want to go to sleep again before we tour the labs in the morning?”

  “Well, it’s quite a while between now and then.”

  Schuman shrugged, returned his focus to the PDA.

  “My time’s occupied. I might sleep tonight, in a bed, with that comforting mood-music. Anti-insomnia Relaxer Engagement. Gotta take advantage of AIRE, ain't cheap back home.”

  Felina knew he was right about that at least. AIRE, pronounced ‘ay-er,’ was a high-end bedroom service only the wealthy possessed. Despite being government employees, back on Earth USRD documenters were regarded as the prawn of United Systems personnel.

  But sleep was very necessary for Felina.

  She ultimately made a choice only she could.

  “I think I’ll take the risk,” she said, leaning back finally. “But I appreciate the words of wisdom.”

  “That’s what I’m here for,” Schuman said, swiping again on his PDA and wiggling his raised foot.

  Felina believed he said something after that, with a twang of dry humor, but her perception became groggy. Already she slipped into unconsciousness, fatigue not so much in her muscles and flesh but her bones, seeping through the confines of her skull.

  In spite of Schuman’s talk, she enjoyed nearly an hour and a half of substantial sleep. Dreamless, tranquil sleep.

  When the two o’clock announcement came, Felina sprung awake. She couldn’t believe she had slept through it yesterday, it nearly gave her a heart attack this time around. She stretched and yawned, then noticed she was alone in the lounging facility. She shrugged and got up, although with the tour cut short today she knew she could’ve just stayed there.

  By all means, she could have gone to her quarters after she’d eaten instead of a comparably stiff recliner.

  As it was, she now had a pinch of rejuvenation—and nothing to spend it on. With the tour cancelled for today, the documenters’ weekend had come early. Felina could either walk the corridors out of sheer boredom, unable to actually witness what occurred ‘behind closed doors,’ like a child stuck in the car slowly driving by Disneyland.

  Or, she thought, I could burn those cafeteria calories—and pass time simultaneously.

  She decided on this option, and wandered her way to the recreation center, which proved to be as impressive as Baez had mentioned. With the massive pool serving as the huge room’s center and exercise machinery surrounding it like a moat between it and seamless mirror walls, Felina was happy with her choice. There was enough to do and sufficient time—and energy, she felt at the moment—to do it that she was content with staying here.

  Baez, Baxter, Loudon, Godunov, and Schuman eventually arrived. Baez and Baxter were together, then shortly after them arrived Loudon and Godunov as a surprisingly cute pair talking back and forth, then Schuman ten minutes following. Baez and Baxter wore thin navy robes and carried duffel bags with them, one each. Their robes weren’t tied, so Felina could spot the one-piece swimsuits beneath, and imagined a change of clothes were in the bags.

  I should’ve thought of that.

  Regardless, upon their arrival she spoke with the two women—and briefly Loudon—before they branched out to focus on two things. Fitness and losing track of time.

  Their preceding chitchat had been just that.

  Felina quietly asked about Godunov, Loudon insinuated that she found him attractive in more ways than one, then took a jab at Felina regarding Calloway. To which Felina rolled her eyes and paved Loudon’s way to nip at Godunov’s heels. Meanwhile Baxter spoke nothing but the desire to swim and “get lost in this place before tomorrow.” Felina and Baez seconded this, although once Baez parted to disrobe, they spoke of heavier matters.

  “So what’s on the mind of Felina Sabartinelli?” Baez had asked with a raised eyebrow, her voice a bit hush-hush.

  “Oh, you know, just the usual. Paranoia and curiosity. My kryptonite.”

  Baez smiled. “Ain't gotta tell me again, I go hand-in-hand with those since birth.” Her expression grew austere. “But this place is really pushing it. Especially with the ‘Manticore’s Spleen’ and now this cancelled tour bullshit. I guarantee you something went ‘wrong’ in the labs and now they’re trying to cover it up for the tour. What do they think, we’re stupid? Naïve?” She scoffed and shook her head, disrobing at the pool’s edge, nearest the entrance still. “I can’t believe they’re doing this and expecting us not to let it negatively affect our reports.”

  Out of the uniform now, it was evident Baez had an athletic and robust but lean figure.

  “Damn, girl, are you a documenter or professional athlete?” Felina smirked with a raised eyebrow.

  Baez chuckled. “Nothing professional. Can’t shake soccer, though.”

  “Good for you,” Felina nodded.

  “Thank you. And you? You’re gonna workout in your monkey suit?”

  Felina laughed. “Better that than having Calloway ogle at me for hours.”

  “Aw, yes, your space-boyfriend,” Baez grinned, knowing it would peeve Felina. She then laughed and asked what made her think he would show up here anyway. “He’s seemed rather intent on unraveling today’s mystery and mingling with the Manticore crew whether they like him or not. Many seem to, especially some of the scientists, but they may just be trying to win him over. Get on his good side. Others don’t seem to care.”

  Felina sighed, shrugged.

  “I can admire that aspect of him, but every other one is in the gutter,” she said. “I’d just rather not give him the satisfaction of distraction, especially when I’m focusing on me. But yeah, I should’ve brought proper workout attire.”

  “Check your wardrobe back at lodging,” Baez said simply. “Their selection is simple but to the point. Your closet should be like mine and Baxter’s, an Auto-Veyer. Your size will be in there.”

  “Thanks, I think I will. Enjoy the water.”

  “Chlorine free,” Baez smiled with pride, as if she designed the ionizing sanitization system herself. Felina smirked and turned her back as Baez dived in.

  She took her time walking back to lodging, acquiring the right exercise clothes, getting fitted in them and then donning a robe as was apparently customary when not in uniform and in corridors, but her return to the recreation center was with haste. She didn’t want to bump into Calloway or anyone else for that matter who might be more talkative than she felt. She just wanted to reach an elliptical and lose herself in the sweat, muscle fatigue and gradual enervation. She saw herself transitioning to a cycling machine, doing some weights, boxing, and possibly even swimming if she had time. There was a gender-specific changing room area that would cater to her donning the swimsuit she stuffed into a small bag she brought along.

  Ultimately she returned to the recreation center and was happy to see that everyone was resolutely exercising. Only Godunov and Loudon seemed to exchange banter when transitioning from one machine to the next, or in between reps.

  So she joined the fun, per se, but kept to herself.

  Time passed on swift wi
ngs, although it was evident they would’ve all much preferred to be elsewhere at the time. Particularly, in the labs with Asher taking the lead on their curiosities and clarifying any theories.

  For now they were forced to dwell on their thoughts.

  Eventually dinnertime came, and the routine was just that—routine. Even now, only their second official day aboard the Manticore, a routine had settled in their blood. Fortunately it was only the mundane schedule of eating; on the upside, what was offered for their trays was notably different between lunch and dinner. This pleased Felina, and after gorging herself at a secluded table like the first time around, she eluded any possible chatterboxes for some peace and quiet in the lounging facility. There were a few occupants already, including Calloway, but fortune favored her tonight—he was fast asleep in one of the hammocked rocking chairs.

  The announcement for the end of dinnertime might have woken Calloway, but Felina had made sure she got up before, a mental plan surprisingly successful. Her plans afterward consisted of reviewing her PDA material in her bedroom quarters while physically unwinding in relaxed attire.

  She even recorded some narrative audio and speculations for her future report. She would walk back and forth in her fairly spacious room, wearing the comfortable bare minimum with PDA in hand, unobstructed voice aloud, and hand gestures abound.

  Within two hours she felt worked up again, and as of roughly nine o’clock knew she didn’t have much time if it meant tending to the recreation center again. Since she didn’t swim earlier, she decided to this time, glad that it was empty upon her arrival. About a lap after she dove in, Ngo arrived with a likeminded plan. They greeted affably, then tended to their swimming laps on opposite sides of the huge pool.

  Ngo left, bidding Felina a goodnight, fifteen minutes before ten. Then Felina exited about five minutes later, leaving the recreation center only after drying off and changing clothes in the designated area. Behind her, the room sealed for the night, and she hoped her mind would do the same once she went to sleep.