Jarod opened first, his computer, then a small envelope containing three small disks. The first was of a pretender, about Jarod’s age. Jarod had known of him, but this was the first time that he had seen him. The scene was of the young man taking a tissue sample from a deformed alien embryo.

He was explaining the importance of balancing the alien’s bio-chemicals. “The alien/human hybrid this came from, was already adapted to our balance, with a slight dependency on certain trace elements. But what you tried to do here was eliminate the human DNA and keep the alien. It won’t work without finding the correct chemical dependency for the original alien body. That is why all your embryos died with serious physical deficiencies and deformities, like enlarged heads and atrophied bodies.”

“You must be on the right track Martin, the embryos, kept in artificial suspension, are living far past the stage of those carried in host mothers. Four of the last six are still alive after almost six months. Their development looks more balanced also.” A hand and arm came into the scene and warmly patted Martin on the back. “Looks like soon we will have our own live pet aliens to study!”

The voice sounded very pleased, but the look on Martins face showed how troubled he was.

The second disk showed excerpts taken from surveillance cameras on SL-27. These scenes he was sure no one had seen, except for Angelo. Because they were from six years ago when he had slipped his leash and gone exploring. No one had ever known he was gone or where he had been.

He had come out on a level that wasn’t supposed to be there, and was shortly thereafter mistaken for Martin by a young female technician. “Oh hello, you must be Martin. I’m sorry, Dr. Cox has left. You were so late, we thought you weren’t coming today.” She led the way into a lab, then stopped at a desk, and turned with her hand lightly resting on a rather thick notebook. “I was just on my way to return this. Do you want to work on it now, or would you rather wait for Dr. Cox?”

Jarod pulled out the chair and sat down. “Oh I think I’ll stick around for a while. Thank you.” He gave her his big Jarod smile and she left.

He knew he should already be gone too, but he was curious what the other, Martin, was working on.

True to protocol, the first page had the goal of the project, followed by the first supposition. This preceded the description of work done and progress achieved, (or not). Each red tabbed page was a new supposition to work from. There were four of them.

He read through each summary and supposition and was hooked. They were trying to grow aliens to cut up, study and ‘train’. They were close. There was enough of a hint at what final key was missing for Jarod to guess it. There was also a strong hint that the other was hanging back in ‘discovering’ it.

Jarod grabbed a paper and slipped it into the word processor. He made up a new supposition. It suggested a new chemical balance for all test subjects, and urged immediate compliance. If the new addition worked the way he thought it should, it would put an immediate end to the project.

The recording ended as he slipped out the door.

When he had gone back down a month later, there was no sign that the lab he visited had ever existed.

The last disk was one he had recorded from the series of files Angelo sent him yesterday, and was the reason he was on this trip.

It was dated about five years ago. It was a ceiling down shot of five doctors working around a boy, strapped to a table. He looked to be about twelve; he was awake and terrified.

One of the doctors spoke into his mike. “Session seven. Subject’s dosage of suppressant has been increased to fifty cc’s every twelve hours. We are now ready for the questioning.” The ‘questioning’ was a polite term for what followed: electric shocks and ‘tissue samples’ taken from various parts of the body. All the while, a voice continued to demand information. It promised an end to all ‘discomforts’ upon compliance.

Through it all, the kid kept denying knowing anything that they asked. Finally he yelled. “Oh Luke, Luke, I’m so sorry!”

Then all five men slammed back away from the table and fell in heaps on the floor. Upon the table, the now lifeless eyes of the boy stared up into eternity.

Jarod shook himself, and placed the disk with the other two. He was sick at heart. That poor boy.

Before he could close his computer, his incoming mail signaled an urgent message.