not always what they seem (6)
warnings: poor decision-making, graphic panic attacks, lack of communication, guilt, fear, angst
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With a sinking feeling, Logan watched the most easily-agitated of their guests continue on into the next testing area alone.
It was a breach of conduct to hope for certain results while performing an experiment, primarily because objectivity was vital if one wanted to produce genuine analytic results, but in this case, he found he couldnât help the urge to wish that either of the others had ventured forward first.
The test itself was a relatively simple one: the chambers in this area were a series of identical rooms, as in the last, with sensitive motion trackers embedded in the flooring. In the previous area, the rooms had been temperature-controlled, so they could see which room their guests would seek out as ideal. There had been more mixed results than expected, but in a case like this, any data was good data.
In this area, each room had a different level of lighting, a spectrum ranging from bright enough that some exclusively-nocturnal species would struggle to see, to dark enough that most diurnal species wouldnât be able to make anything out.
It was one of the simpler tests, with little to actively fear. Virgil had already begun investigating it with far more initiative than theyâd shown in the maze before, their ever present hunched shoulders even beginning to slowly ease down as they went. Clearly, the presence of the other two beings and the harmless precedent set by the previous areas was helping settle their persistent wariness.
(A fact which only made Logan feel worse about what they would have to do next.)
Virgil headed directly for the lighter side of the area at first, frequently casting glances back toward the more shadowed areas, a mannerism that made Logan wonder if they had a surplus of natural predators on their native planet. They spotted the only item of note in the first room immediately, providing substantial evidence to support Pattonâs proposal that their guests had strong visual abilities, and approached it slowly.
Seeing as they had refused to do even that much in Loganâs maze, this was heartening progress.
A flat dish segmented into two halves sat on a small stool in the corner of the room, and on top of that dish rested a simple nutrient tab and an orb made up of colorful pieces.
Virgil didnât spare the nutrient tab much more than a glance, but after a prolonged moment of direct staring, they dared to reached out and swipe the puzzle sphere off the dish, immediately skipping back a few steps and craning their neck to look up at the semi-transparent ceiling.
(The opaque coating on the material was one-sided, so they could watch the results directly without perturbing the subjects by looming over them. In theory, anyhow. Virgilâs vision must have indeed been strong, or at least highly cued to motion, for them to have already noticed the muted shadows of Logan and his research partners through the roof.)
Virgil seemed to be waiting for some sort of severe repercussion for touching the puzzle sphere, as though they expected one of them to swoop down and grab the item from their handsâ or even grab Virgil themself. None of them had so much as twitched, aware that even the simplest movements had been known to startle their most skittish guest.
After an exceedingly long pause, Virgilâs tense posture dropped away, and they spent a few moments inspecting the puzzle sphere with enough intensity that they even forgot to check over their shoulder for the duration. Despite being a few levels more complex than the treat ball Logan used in his mazeâ these were sapient beings, after allâ it didnât take Virgil long to align the pieces properly and thus solve the puzzle, allowing the sphere to pop open and reveal their prize: a dark shining stone.
They had all agreed on shiny prizes, seeing how glinting items had often subtly caught the attention of the tiny aliens. Patton had been concerned about the likelihood of them mistaking something inedible for food, so they had switched from polished mineral marbles to valt stones with a reflective sucrose coating applied to them. Valt stones dissolved in medium heat, so even if Virgil did manage to eat one, the stone would gradually crumble away based on the temperature readings Roman had taken.
It seemed maybe theyâd been overly-proactive; Virgil flipped the stone in their hands a few times, drew it close to inspect it, but didnât so much as smell it, let alone put it in their mouth. After a moment of this, they dropped the stone into the pocket of their leg garment.
They all shared an excited glance: positive engagement!
Virgil perked up further when they ventured into the next room and saw the same set up, only slightly altered: the stool and dish were set in a different corner, and the puzzle was a different shape. They didnât seem nearly as wary this time, and settled into a routine of locating the dish and walking up to it, picking up the puzzle, and using deft fingers to fiddle with it until they got to the small prize inside.
The only sign that the brightest room gave them any trouble was the slight squint they took on, though the light evidently wasnât perturbing enough to make them take the puzzle into a different room. That was a good sign; it meant that the odds of causing damage to their guestsâ eyes with ray-based scans were low, and many of those scans were invaluable for determining physical makeup.
When it came to the dark rooms, Virgil moved slower, and took slightly longer to scout out the location of the dish each time. In the last three rooms, they took the puzzles to one of the lighter rooms to solve it, helpfully confirming Loganâs theory that they were focusing on the color-matching element of the puzzles rather than matching the tactile symbols on the pieces. In the last room, it was extremely likely that they couldnât see anything at all, as they moved extremely slowly and searched the room through touch, making a circuit around to each corner and then walking back and forth until they gently bumped into the stool.
These results seemed to indicate that their guests could operate in a wide range of different lighting, but had a considerably easier time navigating in the rooms set to daytime-lighting. They also indicated that Virgil, at least, could see a fairly large scope of color, as it was only on the two most color-complex puzzles that they resorted to using the other available senses to solve them.
The test also indicated that they had no choice but to use the next chamber.
After all those rooms, Virgil still hadnât touched a single nutrient tab, just as none of the three had done more than disinterestedly inspect the nutrient tabs Patton had left on the table with them in the past two cycles.
This wouldnât have been unusual or particularly concerning if these had been normal specimens. Many fauna didnât engage with the nutrient tabs, since they were tailored to be non-toxic to all lifeforms in this quadrant, and thus were admittedly rather bland and uninteresting. In that case, they would usually move on to performing more physical tests to discern what variety of foods were safe and tempting to the creature in question, and then provide those instead.
Things were obviously quite different when working with sapient aliens, especially ones who had refused all physical tests more intensive than touching a thermometer. They couldnât effectively communicate with their guests yet, and they didnât have time to dismantle that language barrier. It had already been a concerning amount of time since theyâd been taken from the stasis of the specimen sects, and they had no idea how to identify or treat starvation.
It was probable that providing items more easily recognized as edible would solve the issue of their guests not eating, but without that testing, they didnât know what would be poisonous to the small aliens. If they simply offered an array of foods, as they had the textiles, the chances of their guests having a bad or even fatal reaction to something were far too high. That was an unacceptable risk.
Logan had been the one to insist, in the end. No matter how ill-advised it was to ignore the boundaries of their guests, no matter how much he dreaded the idea of being responsible for the reappearance of that upset and frightened body language, he wasnât willing to allow them to die through his inaction or lack of care.
He had already made a mistake with the three of them previously, letting panic drive him and ignoring their objections in favor of picking up Remus. If one of them had to become untrustworthy in their eyes, better that it was him.
Logan ignored the concerned glances of his research partners, watching grimly as Virgil pushed through the door to the next testing area.
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Virgil was having a surprisingly okay time, considering the circumstances.
At first sight of the structure, heâd anticipated some kind of horrible alien death maze, full of sawblades and pit traps and possibly even a car-sized boulder that would squash them all flat.
Instead, it had been full of various rooms, not winding or confusing or particularly maze-like in any way, with items or environments for them to react to. Heâd gotten a bit concerned about the puzzles, but really, there werenât any real signs that pointed to this being a bizarre trial-by-fire or even a remotely competitive scenario, even by his paranoid standards.
There were doors between each distinct chamber, but none separating the rooms themselves, and all the chamber doors had remained open even after theyâd split the party like idiots in a horror movie.
He tossed the last weird rock heâd earned in his palm, rubbing his thumb over the dull angles of it. Even knowing they were part of some weird alien plot, it had been surprisingly soothing to focus on those puzzles, probably because he could burn some of his nervous energy by fidgeting with them. Not that heâd say as much aloud; that sounded a little too âenthusiastic lab ratâ for him. No thank you.
There was probably plenty of data they were getting from each chamber, no matter how simple they seemed, but Virgil wasnât really in the mood to try and puzzle it out. Dee was probably right about the aliens trying to squeeze as much relevant information from them as possible, but he couldnât help but feel sort of apathetic on the matter. Sure, they could be using it to learn more about humanity for presumably nefarious purposes, but if they wanted more humans, couldnât they just grab more humans? They certainly didnât seem to have a problem nabbing the three of them.
Maybe he was just being stupid, too busy freaking out about their own lives to really think about the big picture or whatever, but it didnât seem to add up. Like, if heâd found an anthill and wanted to get rid of it, he wouldnât need to run experiments on the ants to learn more about them first. Heâd only have to kick over the anthill.
If all the aliens wanted to do was get rid of them, why bother with all the tests? It had to be obvious by now that they didnât have any sort of natural defenses that could stand against giant aliens, and their technological capabilities obviously outstripped humanityâs by far.
He wasnât suggesting they were trustworthy or anythingâ there was a wide range of options between metaphorical ants and potential friends, after all. Even if their status was closer to âinteresting lab specimensâ than âpests to annihilateâ, they still werenât guaranteed any sort of safety. It was just⌠something useful to think about whenever the overwhelming panic started to boil up in him.
It was a theory that Virgil immediately lost all faith in when the doors to the next chamber sealed behind him.
He whipped around, a jolt of ice spiking through his veins as he confirmed that yeah, that sliding noise absolutely had been the doors closing, heâd jinxed himself so hard, he was going to fucking dieâ
âHey!â he snapped, the word coming out a little strangled on his first try. âHey! No, no no no, open those back up! Dee! Remus!â
The doors werenât entirely opaque; he could see through them well enough to tell that the doorways beyond remained clear of any silhouettes. One beat passed, and then another. The fear crept in quicker now, his breathing coming faster. âGuys! Iâm serious, somethingâs happening! Dee!â
Still, nothing.
They wouldnât just ignore him. Even if they were actually total assholes who didnât care what happened to him like his brain was screaming, heâd spent enough time around them to know that Dee was nosy beyond belief, and Remus sought out danger like a moth flying into an oven. If theyâd heard, they would have responded, one way or another.
So, they couldnât hear him. That meant this was planned. The aliens wanted something with themâ no, with him. Theyâd separated them, singled him out to get it.
Virgil stumbled hurriedly into a corner, bracing his back against it as he scanned the room, his gaze periodically flickering up to the gray ceiling above where he was sure heâd spotted a shadow of movement earlier.
The chamber itself was empty, with no visible doors other than the two on either side that had firmly locked him in. It was a single blank room, nothing on the floor or the walls, the only notable difference being the fact that it was apparently soundproofed.
It was quiet for long enough that he managed to wrangle his breathing back under control, the tension in him only ramping up as the uncertain moment stretched on and on and on.
And then, a click, and the ceiling was pulled away.
Virgil sank down into a crouch on sheer instinct, as though he could avoid whatever was coming simply by shying away from it. Heâd thought the enclosed room was bad, but the sudden feeling of being completely exposed was somehow worse.
The panther alienâ Loganâ leaned into sight, uncanny eyes locking on him immediately, and Virgil hunkered down a little further.
âNo,â he tried, not even sure what he was objecting to, other than everything about the situation. âDo you h-hear me? No.â
Loganâs ears flicked and angled backwards, eyes narrowing slightly, and an audible rumbling started up. Wow! Virgil hated everything about that, actually.
When the alien moved, reaching into the enclosure with one of those inhuman hands, the gesture was almost painstakingly slow. If it was an attempt to not frighten Virgil any further, it failed miserably; it only gave him more time to work himself into a proper panic.
He tried to duck away the moment that hand got close, obviously, but it only took a few tries before Logan seemed to lose their patience. The next grab was too quick to dodge, and Virgil couldnât help the small shriek that burst from him the moment he was caught, primal terror overriding all rational thought. Logan jolted at the sound, but didnât loosen their grip nearly enough for him to wiggle free.
âNo!â he shouted desperately, but there was no point. Logan may have understood the word, but understanding didnât mean listening. Virgil didnât have the same dauntless charisma as Dee, the confidence to negotiate with giants that could choose to do anything they wanted.
His stomach dropped as he was lifted up, the restraining hand wrapped around him never faltering even as he cried out and tried to thrash free. The panic felt nearly blinding, and he barely registered the blur of the much larger room passing by as Logan carried him over to some new surface, presumably for some other strange test.
The moment there was a solid surface under his feet again, he instantly tried to push off of it and scramble free, but even now Logan didnât release him. He only had a moment to feel oddly betrayedâ had some part of him really thought this wouldnât actually end horrifically?â before he was being repositioned and gently but firmly pressed against the surface, like a butterfly being spread over a pinboard.
Or a corpse set out for dissection.
âFuckshit fuck, fuck you fuck you fuck you,â Virgil spat as viciously as he could, twisting his limbs ineffectively and frantically pushing against that impossible hold. âLet me go, donât you fucking dareâ!â
The rumbling grew louder, the slightest shake tangible in the hand pressing him down, and the alien shifted their hand slightly, enough for Virgil to see past it.
With their other hand, Logan was holding a narrow silver instrument in the air above him, its purpose indiscernible but its mere presence enough to make Virgilâs voice cut off sharply. His furious struggling died down to involuntary twitches, his wide eyes locked on the tool.
The alien was as unreadable as always, the tip of the tool drifting closer, and Virgil felt his mind go entirely blank with terror.
A high, thin whine split the air, like an animal caught in a trap. It took Virgil a long moment to realize the sound was coming from him.
âPlease,â he tried hopelessly, the words barely taking shape. âNo. Please no.â
â
This wasnât working.
Even from an animal, this sort of mindless, terrified whimpering would have been reason enough to stop this procedure and look for alternative, less stressful methods. Knowing they were coming from a sapient being? Knowing that, translatable or not, Virgil had likely been reduced to begging for their life because of his actions?
Logan couldnât do this.
â
The pressure on him abruptly vanished.
Virgilâs body reacted far quicker than his mind, a fresh surge of adrenaline tearing through him as he hauled himself upright and bolted. It didnât matter which direction he picked, so long as he was getting away from the threat looming over him.
There were thin semi-transparent barriers set up on each side of the table, preventing him from getting too far and also from doing anything rash in his panic. He twisted to look behind him the moment he reached the furthest corner, half-expecting a massive hand to be hovering over him already, only waiting for him to pause so it could come swooping downâ
The alien hadnât reached forward at all. In fact, Logan looked further away, as though theyâd taken a step or two back.
It took a few tense moments for Virgil to pay attention to anything beyond that distance, most of his focus going to keeping his heavy, gasping breaths from turning to outright hyperventilation. His gaze locked onto every small motion Logan was making, but it took several repetitions before he registered the meaning behind the gesture.
It was the same movement as the other oneâ Romanâ had done after trying to separate him from Remus by grabbing him. Dee had hypothesized it was some kind of⌠apology.
âYou should fucking be sorry,â Virgil muttered, still wheezing a little with every inhale. âServe you right if Iâ if I keeled over just fromâ fuck.â
His voice died out as soon as Logan moved, his body flattening further against the barrier behind him as though he could somehow merge through it, but Logan was moving away, reaching towards something to the side.
After a few seconds of rifling, they returned with a thick disc-shaped object in hand. Virgil stared blankly, suspicious and bewildered in equal measure.
Logan seemed to glance over to check that he was watching, and then carefully lifted the disc to their mouth and emphatically sank their teeth into it like they were an excited kid taking a bite out of a cookie. Their lip curled up as they did so, giving Virgil a better look at those fangs than heâd ever particularly wanted, and then, after a long stretch of holding that position, they opened their mouth back up without actually tearing a chunk free from the disc.
Virgil frowned, almost too confused to be frightened, as Logan tilted the disc to show Virgil the clean imprint of teeth left in it. The alien set the disc aside, and then picked the silver tool back up, which set his heart racing anew.
Instead of reaching forward with it, however, Logan simply lowered the tool to the surface where Virgil had been pinned down minutes before, and set a small item down before retreating. Now that he was looking at it from a distance, the tool wasnât sharp-edged at all, only having two narrow prongs at the end.
⌠Had he seriously had a panic attack over the outer space equivalent of tweezers?
The embarrassment was powerful enough that he managed to force himself to slowly edge forward, squinting at the item Logan had placed before him.
It looked just like the disc Logan had just bitten, only in miniature.
Oh. Oh.
Virgil was no genius, but even he could put the pieces together on this one.
With a few wary glances at Loganâs towering form, he slid closer and picked the disc up. There was a hard outer shell along the sides of it for him to grip, but the rest of it seemed to be made up of a thick, clay-like material. Not the sort of thing heâd usually put anywhere near his mouth, but⌠he looked up at Logan again, considering.
There was nothing stopping them from doing this against his will, earlier. Nothing but Virgilâs own protests, desperate enough that Logan had decided to try a different way. Maybe Dee had been onto something, when it came to compromising with these creatures.
Besides, it wasnât like he was actually eating the stuff. Just⌠biting it. Eugh.
Pushing past his deep reluctance, Virgil bit down into the disc, jolting a little when he realized there was a flat pane of plastic-y material in the middle that kept him from biting through the whole thing. Really, it felt oddly similar to those mouthguards dentists made him wear while getting an x-ray of his teeth. Except squishier.
He forced himself to hold the weird disc thing in his mouth for what he thought was probably the same amount of time Logan had while demonstrating, and then unhooked his teeth from it with a grunt. Peering closely at the disc, he could see that the holes left behind were perfectly matched to the shape of his teeth.
It had to be some kind of plaster-mold-cast thing, but Virgil had never been all that into ceramics, and so he didnât have the foggiest idea of what exactly Logan intended to do with a mold of his teeth. At this point, he didnât even care.
The energy crash was beginning to hit, and so he barely even jumped when Logan reached down at him, only taking a few stumbling steps back and then holding the disc out as far from his body as he could manage.
To the alienâs credit, their touch was gentle enough that he barely registered it as they plucked the disc out of his grasp, the palm-sized disc looking comically tiny between those massive fingers. The rumbling had started back up again. Maybe it wasnât a displeased sound, after all. Cats purred soothingly, didnât they?
Logan immediately moved away, presumably to do mysterious alien scientist things to the disc. Virgil spat a few times, trying to get the faint aftertaste out of his mouth, and sat down heavily. His whole body was still shaking like a leaf in the wind, but this sort of wrung-out jittering was vastly preferable to the frantic, burning terror of before.
Heâd managed some kind of communication, for what it was worth. He hadnât died, despite all expectations to the contrary. It had been a horrible experience, but at least heâd managed to figure out what was going on in time to prevent any actual heart attacks.
One thing was for certain: the minute he reunited with the others, he was putting a permanent ban on splitting up in weird mystery mazes. This little excursion had been more than enough for him.
