"Speci-Men" - Part Three

 

Part Three

            Two weeks passed in the Man World.

            Miya was allowed to spend much of it in the living quarters of Richard and his son. Located on the twentieth floor of the Sands Corp building, it was a suitable penthouse with a beautiful view of New York City, but it was also rather bland with its lack of décor. There were no paintings on the walls and everything was blue, from the kitchen sink to the flatscreen TV. There were only eight distinct rooms: the foyer, kitchen, two bedrooms, a study room, a den, and a laboratory with the only bathroom in the whole place – which was where Richard was at the moment. Miya spent most of her time in the study.

            There, she shut off the security cameras, so that Sands or whoever kept up with surveillance wouldn’t see her hacking the Sands Corp database to research the reproduction machine. She had a little help from Geoff, whose login was required for the personal computer, supplied by Sands Corp’s educational unit for home studies. It also required Geoff to be the sole operator, as the keyboard and mouse were DNA-sensitive; this left Miya to hover over him and direct him through the intricate hack.

            She was impressed by how much hacking Geoff already knew to do, barely needing to say anything at all. “You are such a smart lil’ dude,” she complimented him. “Where did you learn all this?”

            “From my game,” Geoff handed her the box for an Xbox game sitting on his desk.

            Miya looked over the box cover, which featured a boy wearing a blue cap, t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. He was jumping across a digital computer grid, grinning. “Mack the Hack,” she read aloud the game’s title, along with its rating, “E for Everyone?” She snickered. “I guess hacking’s for all ages in this world.”

            Bypassing the database went as smoothly as she hoped, until a red ‘Restricted’ message flashed onscreen. Geoff got a bit worried when he saw it. “Did I do something wrong?” he quivered.

            “No, sweetheart, you’re doing just fine,” Miya scowled at the screen. “It’s a dang firewall that’s the problem. But we’re not gonna let that stop us.” She leaned further over Geoff’s shoulders, guiding his fingers along specific keys for him to circumvent the firewall that prevented them from accessing the classified info.

She and Geoff had successfully broken through the final firewall, granting her access to all the hidden files on the reproduction machine – its design, origins, etc. While most of the files were redacted, they pretty much confirmed what Miya had suspected all along.

            “That machine is Promethean tech!” She snapped her fingers with glee.

            “What’s a ‘Promethean’?” Geoff asked. “Are they aliens like you?”

            Miya nodded. “They are, only they look more like goblins with pointy ears and grey skin. They claim to be the creators of the multiverse, having lived in it for so long. I’d bet they even created your world, Geoff…given its twisted version of Earth history.” Struck with determination, she declared, “I can’t be here any more than I already have. The Prometheans prey on time-sensitive beings like myself and especially my TARDIS!”

            “Your spaceship?” Geoff beamed with excitement. The stories that Miya told him, about her exploits across the Infinite DC, were better than any video game he played or movie that he watched.

            Seeing him so excited made Miya smile. “Yes, sweetie. And I need to get back to it. It should still be there in the museum where I left it. That means I’m gonna need your daddy’s help to get back to it.” She immediately rushed into the lab and knocked on the bathroom door. “Rich? You all good in there, man?”

            She could hear him clear his throat before he replied, “Yes, I’ll be out in a moment.”

            Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

            Geoff answered the door and a middle-aged Caucasian man in a blue suit brisked his way into the Chambers residence. He carried a blue duffel bag in with him. “Is your father at home, boy?” he assertively asked Geoff, barely looking his way. “I have a problem that he needs to fix.”

            Miya heard his loud, haughty voice all the way from the lab.

            Looking in, she saw the man enter the foyer. At first glance, he looked much like a lawyer with perfectly combed brown hair and a chiseled jawline. He was certainly the yuppie type – a dead ringer for Patrick Bateman. He cared a great deal about his physical appearance, checking himself in the nearest available mirror. As he checked, he caught Miya reflecting over his shoulder.

            Sharply, he turned to her and cried, “What is that?!”

            “It’s the alien, Mr. Stanson,” Geoff told him.

            Stanson looked incredulously at him. “The one that the tabloids made such a fuss about, weeks ago? I thought that was just all fabrication.” He returned his gaze on Miya with intrigue. “Well, this is quite the surprise, I must say.” He slammed his duffel bag down on the floor. Miya could’ve sworn she heard wailing coming from inside it, but the noise was too muffled to be certain. She watched as Stanson circled around her, examining her as if she were a model on display. “I’ve never seen such a remarkable creature. Does it speak?”

            “Yes, she does,” Miya derided, disgusted by the abrasive man.

            Stanson frowned. “She? You must be alien to pick up such a lackluster variant of our pronouns.”

            Miya rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”

            “Ah, now there’s a word I know,” Stanson said. “You can be taught after all.”

            Miya never wanted to slug a man in the face more than the one standing in front of her. She only restrained herself because Geoff was in the room, and she was not only a guest in the Chambers’ residence but also on their planet. Not to mention, eliciting violence towards one of the ‘Earthmen’ would be sure to stir up trouble that she couldn’t afford to attract – not after what she learned about this realm.

            “Much as I’d love to dissect our visitor here, I need to see your father, Geoffrey,” Stanson reattended, picking his duffel bag back off the floor.

            Again, Miya heard that muffled wailing. “What do you have in there anyway?”

            “Not any business of yours, alien,” Stanson refuted. The wailing in his bag got louder, prompting him to punch at whatever was inside. “SHUT UP!” he shouted to it.

            It was then that Miya saw the bag squirming.

            He’s got a living being in there!

            Without warning or permission, she snatched the bag out from Stanson’s grasp, much to the yuppie’s vexation. “HEY!” he howled. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

            Ignoring him, Miya brought the bag into the kitchen and gently set it on the table.

            The wailing she had been hearing was clearer and even louder once she unzipped the bag. “Oh, my…” she shuddered at the crying infant that she found inside. He was no more than a month old. There were inflamed contusions all over his face, hands, legs, and torso. He was coughing out blood that trickled down from the corner of his mouth. The agony in his cries shattered Miya’s hearts and made her blood boil in her veins. “This child’s been abused!” She shot Stanson the fieriest of glares. “What’s wrong with you, man?!”

            “He won’t stop that incessant crying!” Stanson griped. “I can’t even sleep with him going on and on like that! So, I simply do this to shut him up!” He raised his fist to strike the baby again…

            …only for Miya to intervene, grabbing Stanson’s arm before it reached the child.

            Stanson was in disbelief and revolted rage. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME!!”

            Miya couldn’t hold back any longer. Seeing that battered, bloodied child was too much. Fueled by vengeful aggression, she gripped Stanson by the collar with her other hand and threw him to the floor. “Get outta here now, before I do something I just might regret!”

            Shocked and offended, Stanson struggled to stand back up. His daunted blue eyes were fixed on Miya, stumbling towards the exit as he declared, “You’ll regret this, creature! The President will hear about this! He’ll make sure Sands and his lab coats cut you into pieces!”

            “Tell whoever you want!” Miya challenged him. “You’re never getting near this baby again!”

            It took a minute after Stanson left for her to calm down.

            The continuous wails of his abused offspring helped her to focus on doing whatever she could to nurse the infant back to health. Geoff watched her as she went to the kitchen sink and wetted a hand towel. “Can I help?” he asked, feeling just as sickened by the child’s agonized cries.

            “Yes, you can, honey,” Miya permitted as she cleaned the blood from the baby’s mouth. “Go get your father out of that bathroom, will ya?”

            Geoff followed through with the command right away, running into the lab and knocking frenetically on the door. “Daddy! Daddy, you got to come quick! Something’s wrong with Mr. Stanson’s baby!”

            “Mr. Stanson?!” Richard bellowed from inside the bathroom. There was a quick flush before he bolted out in a rush. “The Vice President was here?! In our home?! Why didn’t you come and tell me sooner, son?!”

            “The baby’s in the kitchen,” Geoff pointed towards the room.

            Richard could hear the child’s wailing from there, until it stopped suddenly. He and Geoff hurried to see what had happened, and all they found was Miya swaddling the baby’s stilled body up in blue cloth. Relieved, Richard approached with a smile. “You calmed him down, thank goodness,” he breathed. “At first, I thought…”

            He stopped when he saw Miya’s shaky hands wrap up the baby’s face, which was as blue as the cloth itself. The child had stopped breathing – for however long, Richard wasn’t certain – but it was long enough to declared the infant dead.

            Richard could feel his face going numb in anxiety.

            The Vice President’s son was dead.

            And there Miya stood, overcome with so many emotions.

            Grief, anger, helplessness, disgust…too many for this regeneration to handle.

            Is this who I am now? This helpless little girl shedding tears over a dead baby who did nothing to deserve such a gruesome fate, before he could even learn to walk? All this empathy I feel…all this compassion. Is this what it means to be a woman? To be human?

            Oh, Kristin…I thought I knew how you felt…but only now do I truly understand.

            It’s beautiful. But, in the case of this poor little soul, it’s unbearable.