By David C. Daoust
Major wasn’t going to lie– when he’d decided to just chuck it all, and grab some food, he had no idea just how many of these flying children there were. If he had to guess, make an estimation, that estimation would be- An army, there was an army.
They were, however, still ‘children’. What were they going to do? Cry and pout ‘cause he took some food? Maybe. He had no way to know just how long it had been since he’d eaten last. His stomach, however, felt like an empty tin container, almost sure it would ring-out, as such, if he were to flick it.
Waking up in a strangely empty city-station, chased by some monstrous monstrosity, wasn’t really a situation he’d had to deal with, before. He could say, now, it was hungry work.
The food wasn’t bad, or so he thought, chewing, as he plunged his hand down into the mass, getting another good handful before shoving it, too, in his mouth. He didn’t know what it was, just the nearest discarded bowl of grub. He’d witnessed one of the kids eating it, and, again, -didn’t taste bad.
Little by little the kids surrounded him. He’d lost track of the count, none of them seemed interested in getting near him. The first batch, the ones that were actually using the commissary at the time of his arrival- were scared. They flew off before he could really say much.
In all honesty, he was hungry enough to be indifferent, if not grateful, for the lack of interaction.
Those that flew off, however, must have flown to tell others. They started filtering in, small batches and groups, daring each other forward, ever since. The more of them that showed up, the braver they got. They pushed in closer and closer, some of them even started giggling as incomprehensible comments were made amongst themselves.
Major didn’t know what they were saying. He didn’t even recognize the language.
They were all tiny little things, pale skin and unnaturally black eyes; each with three glowing orbs flying around them. They looked like toddlers, some of them oversized, but toddlers all the same. It was like their heads were too big, eyes wide and round, and bodies frail at the shoulder; the proportions were off. They all looked like toddlers. Maybe a bit brighter, or more intelligent than a toddler of the Onion… considering- but they all hovered about as he continued filling his empty belly.
It appeared, once they drew a line, of just how close, was close enough, to see the spectacle that was Major, eating their grub, these little flying toddlers started stacking up around him. A wall of children was formed, all the way around, more and more would file in. Some started appearing in the rafters, until Major found himself sitting within a dome of children as he chewed up and slurped down more and more food.
Yep, an Army. He’d have to guess an army. And not an adult in the joint.
He didn’t have an escape plan. The current plan- to impose.
He needed food, they had it. Asking for it- could lead to extra problems. Considering these children were the only other living things in the immediate surroundings, he felt they’d make much better allies than that monstrosity he’d mentioned earlier. Having to fight them for food, if they denied him, would not an ally make.
Taking the food, in Major’s opinion, was the better call in this instance- he got an answer, and a full belly. Their reaction should help tell him all he needed to know. So far, he was just a spectacle to giggle at.
A small group pushed forward, crossing the imaginary line in which the rest of the children, had decided was close enough. They looked a bit more serious, though still- toddlers. Oversized toddlers. Their conversation a bit more immediate.
Major kept on eating as they measured him up.
It wasn’t ‘til one dropped down from the ceiling, that the mood in the room shifted. The giggling stopped, and comments changed to murmurs; either way, still incomprehensible to Major.
Major, surprised himself; He actually recognizing this one. This was the small child Dr. Sun had pulled out of that Wraith… all those… days ago? Weeks? Who knows. He was amazed that he recognized the kid- they all looked, so much, the same… Major didn’t say anything though, just sped up his eating, shifted forward to a bit more of an upright seated position… gave the new kid his full attention as he ate as much as he could. Other than that, Major waited for them to make the next action.
The kid talked a bit to the other group; Major had no idea what was said.
The weird orbs that orbited the kid, suddenly popped up, formed a holographic screen in front of him.
Major watched as the kid made selections on the screen like he was at a computer terminal. One eyebrow popped up, as the screen disappeared and the orbs dropped back into their orbit.
The kid said some stuff to him, to no avail.
Major got the clear impression they were waiting for something.
It wasn’t long until the Wraith made its appearance.
That wall of toddlers broke, leaving a hole that the flying figure could make its entrance. The kid met it, and the Wraith pretty much scooped the kid up into its cockpit.
Major didn’t feel like he was in any danger. He knew the Wraith could be used as a weapon, he’d witnessed it in the past. Though if these kids planned to vaporize him, they’d be about the coldest murderers he’d ever met.
The kid started flipping switches and making more selections from within.
Major, getting the sense he was running out of time, finished off the last few bites, scraping the bottom for even more, just before he was suddenly captured within a force field, and lifted up into the air…
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