Darkness.

It was dark, cold.

She tried to take a breath.

Her chest heaved, there was no air.

She could not move, her body paralyzed, consciousness remained trapped behind closed eyes.

But she could hear…

The hum of machines, the gurgle of digestive organs, the subtle sound of steel on flesh. They echoed around her.

She could feel…

The cold metal below her, the pins in her fingers, the tube that filled her throat.

Another untaken breath.

Her chest was tight, the tube scraped against her teeth, the metallic taste pressed along her tongue.

It was suffocating yet she could breath, like drowning in a dream.

She could smell…

The unnatural plastic, the sharpness of ammonia, the tang of blood.

Cold, slippery feelers creeped into her ear. Her nerves shrieked and her skin crawled as the unwelcome invader threaded itself inside her.

Panic revived her, fear consumed her.

Her heart tried to race but was constricted. Bound by a thousand strings.

The fine, precise pain of a dozen needles pierced her stomach.

Warm fingers rested on her eyelids before opening them for her.

Her mind screamed.

Black uncaring voids stared back at her, a collection of organs pulsating inside a living sack.

Mechanical arms pulled away, and she glimpsed the horror beyond.

Her body split open, blood filtered and organs punctured by more mechanical arms.

A large needle was raised to her eye-

Jasmine awoke screaming.

At least she tried to scream but you need energy to do that.

Small shallow breaths flushed her lungs with fresh air and her body lay in a bed of sand, soft brown sand. Jasmine didn’t want to open her eyes, but the tears needed somewhere to go .

The unknown was bright.

She could see the sand, the sea, the tall grass that grew in sparse patches.

She could feel the stillness in the air, hear the gentle laps of water to the shore.

But something wasn’t right.

Jasmine couldn’t smell the salt on the air, the sand should have been white like powder and the sky… Why couldn’t she see the sky? Her eyes stung as the tears fell down her face, blinding her to everything else.

Her stomach cramped.

Hunger brought pain, brought panic. She willed her aching arms to move, she was so weak, so tired. Fingers finally ran the length of her stomach. It was clean, no scars or stitches to prove her nightmares real. Was it all a fever dream?

Was this just the worst hangover in the history of everything?

Hands slid over her thighs.

Panic lingered.

Hands further explored her body, the sudden unsettling sensation of air against her toes, her backside, her breasts.

Why was she naked? Why did everything hurt? Where was she? Where were her friends?

‘Why is everything so wrong?! What is happening?! Why am I so scared?!’

So many questions screamed in her brain. Jasmine held her head, hoping to stop the voice inside, but it only served to fill her with more dread. Her fingers brushed the smooth skin of her scalp.

They had shaved her.

‘No more, no more…’ she begged.

Her hands slid down over her eyes.

Maybe.

When she opened them next time.

The world would return to how it was supposed to be…

-*-

Xant peered at the screen.

It had been almost 48 [hours] since they had released their specimens into the observation enclosures and his assistants had produced reports on all of them.

Yet the most promising of their collection had yet to provide anything of note, in fact according to Foorlan’s report the creature had barely moved from its original position.

Currently, the specimen was laying on its back, staring up at the enclosure’s ceiling, motionless except for the expulsion of air.

It looked like it had expired under their care.

“What stimuli have you provided for the specimen?” Xant asked his assistants. Foorlan approached nervously, reading off her dataslate notes.

“We started with visual stimuli doctor, lightening and brightening the room, changing the colour of the environmental lights, but the specimen was mostly unresponsive.”

“Clarify Assistant,”

“At first the specimen turned away from the brighter lights, moving its head and covering the ocular receptors, but then it ignored the patterns after that.”

“Continue.”

“We then moved onto audio sensory, but, as with the visual, the specimen then continued to ignore our attempts to provoke it into action.”

Xant nodded his head, keeping his eyes on the live video feed.

“And Freq reception?”

“It was unresponsive doctor, the creature cannot perceive freq pulses in any capacity, we even tried some of the known Rajavan Frequencies.” Foorlan sighed. “Like all fauna Doctor, the creature is nonviable.”

Xant folded his ears down, he had known this of course but he had hoped he had overlooked something in his initial examination.

“When was the creatures last consumption?”

“It hasn’t consumed Doctor. Digestive diagnostics indicate we have the right amount of proteins available to it in the environment, but it has not moved from the position we released it in.”

The doctor gave a disapproving swish of his tail. Had the creature been damaged in transit? If all of its contemporaries had recovered from their time in stasis then the was no reason for this one to be so unresponsive-

“Assistant Foorlan?”

“Yes Doctor?”

“Enhance the footage of the specimen, around the manipulators.” he ordered.

“Yes Doctor!”

The camera zoomed in on the creature’s elongated limbs, it was so subtle Xant was sure even the most attentive surveillance would have missed it. It’s long fingers were slowly moving in the sand, and laying out separate and distinct patterns in the ground. Lines, swirls, dots, circles, before the whole hand wiped its surface clean to start again.

“How long has the specimen been doing that?” he asked coldy.

Foorlan gulped.

“I… I dont know Doctor.” she replied before furiously rewinding the footage.

Fauna were known to decorate territory, collect items and even paint themselves in particular colours of mud. They were not known for their knowledge to reproduce consistent symbology.

“Doctor? The specimen has been displaying this activity for the last 4 [hours].” Foorlan finally informed him.

Xants ears lay flat upon his head. Nothing this specimen did seemed to correlate with what they thought they knew.

“I am going to the enclosure.” He announced to his staff suddenly. He would need to check its vitals manually, perhaps it needed more than non threatening stimuli to react to. “Have the footage analysed, I want data on the patterns.”

“Yes Doctor…” Foorlan hung her large head in dismay and got to work quickly, while Xant made his way from the research labs up to the enclosures.

-*-

Jasmine stared at the concrete sky, no matter how many times she tried, she could not wake up from this nightmare. The lights flickered but never dimmed, the water lapped at the shore with almost clock work timing. A bubble fountain in her miniature prison.

What fate was this?

That she survived a horrific alien abduction, violated beyond all conceivable measures before placed in their pathetic excuse for a zoo and left to rot?

‘Fuck them.’ Her mind whispered bitterly.

She would rot just to spite them. Those disgusting things. If they came near her again she would tear them apart! She would bite and kick and scratch and-

The specimen lay still on the ground as the safety hatch opened for Xant.

Even its breathing stopped.

He approached slowly, cautiously, but ensured that his presence was known. Slowly it turned its head towards him and stared. Blue eyes wide, and focused entirely on him it was unnerving to say the least, but he shuffled forward.

When the Doctor was less than arm’s length away the creature suddenly moved with more urgency than ever before but even then it was struggling. It weazed and croaked trying to crawl out of Xants reach. He could see it was terribly weak, if it moved much more it might do itself an injury.

He was careful to avoid the claws, the teeth though small and blunt were still a worry, so he gently but firmly restrained the creatures arms to it sides.

Its head whipped around but it didn't try to bite him, just staring and making the faintest of whimpers. Satisfied the creature could not hurt him, Xant pulled his medipen from his pocket and pressed it to the creatures skin.

The pen gave a small beep, and chirped the results for the Doctor.

Its system was malnourished and blood toxicity was high, blood glucose content low…

The creature relaxed. While still staring at Xant, it looked him over, its eyes dilating as it tried to focus. Focus on him? It moved so a sitting position, swaying while trying to hold itself up.

Xant retrieve another vial from his holder, it wasn’t much, but a small does of stims might get it back on its feet as it were. He measured a [quarter] dose.

The creature held out its arm to him.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He held its hands in restraint but it did make the conscious effort to twist its arm so that the circulatory system was clearly visible and accessible.

Xant held the pen above the vein, and pressed it in waiting for a reaction.

The creature did not stop its stare, Xant raised his head to meet the creatures gaze.

Those small blue eyes were studying him, searching for something in his own eyes but for what? Its mouth opened, small gaping actions but no sound.

He examined its head, turning it from side to side, checking its throat, clear. It was surprisingly placid in his hands.

Xant let off a pulse directly at it just to be sure, but nothing. It was empty, null, yet it could pull off the most convincing mimicry of sentience.

He was starting to see why the Rajava had chosen to process this organism. Xant returned the creatures hands to the ground, before he slowly backed away. It made no attempt to swipe at him or even pursue him, he left the enclosure unscathed but ultimately perplexed.

‘You will kick and bite and fight back, yeah right…’ Jasmines mind chastised herself. She had frozen in terror at the very sight of the alien who had shown up. She couldn’t move as it was , and her body couldn’t even muster up the energy to get up and run away. She just lay there like one of those paralytic goats. Until the alien got really too close for comfort. Then trying to crawl away felt even more pathetic and useless.

People always pretend like they’re going to be hero’s and do all these things but when thrown into a completely unknown situation the best you can hope for is your brain doesn't shit itself in the process.

Jasmine was not happy with her brains reaction in the slightest.

She shifted her weight to sit on her legs, scraping off sand from her body now that her brain had decided it wanted to function.

‘Maybe it was the shot?’

Could have been, it didn’t hurt to breath anymore and the hunger pain had died. She could see now too, everything had come into focus rather quickly.

She was right in her first guess, it was an enclosure, roughly about 200 meters squared and had the shape of a quarter circle. Made from industrial concrete and plastic, and kinda looked like the animal rehabilitation centers you saw in documentaries.

It just had that feel to it, like, it wanted to be close to what the actual environment was like but had all the details wrong. Tuffs of luscious grass didn’t grow in beach sand, the ‘tree’ was like a street light had grown perfectly symmetrical branches. The water feature looked like it had taken contractors a weekend to put in, and then she noticed the giant black orb.

It was a wonder she missed it, a shiny black orb, the size of her head stuck to the side of the concrete dome roof.

‘That’s the camera.’

They’re were observing her, of course they were, she was probably the star attraction or something. The newest addition to the human zoo and she had her first check up with the keeper.

‘Or you’re a pet?’

That could also be true.

The keeper didn’t look anything like the brainsacks that abducted her. It wore clothes for one, a white vinyl lab coat of all things and it treated her with at least the same level of respect that earth’s own zoo keepers would have.

‘...’

It WAS treating her like an animal! It wasn’t like she had acted to the contrary! She had just laid there and cried for what seemed like days.

The memory of her abduction was still fresh in her mind however, if she wanted answers then she needed to prove she was worth receiving them.

They wanted to watch her?

She’d give them a show.

First thing’s first though, she needed to eat.

Jasmine stood up to walk; her legs were stiff and sore like she had not moved in eternity and had to shake them awake. Being able to finally survey her surroundings, she spotted some brown squares littered around the environment. Picking them up they were firm and a little squishy, the chunks were just as out of place as everything else was in the enclosure.

A sniff test was in order.

They didn't smell like anything really, maybe a little salt.

The human dared a small bite. It wasn't entirely unpleasant, shed eaten and paid for a lot worse. Like unmarinated jerky, bland stale and chewy.

A grimace pulled across her face.

It was kibble.

The stuff did remind her of dog treats, minus the overpowering smell.

'maybe I am a pet then?' She thought taking another bite. 'An illegally obtained pet.' stolen, shaved, and sold as an exotic pet, sitting in a cage as a novelty. 'Fine' she decided. 'best prove them wrong then.'

Jasmine collected more of the kibble pieces and pulled off a giant leaf from one of the bushes to lay them on and another so she could sit while she made her plan.

First was food, second thing to figure out was shelter.

That was going to be harder, while there was plenty of vegetation there wasn't much in the way of branches or bark. A lean-to for privacy would have to be a grass tent instead, provided the plants were durable enough to be sewn together. After her fifth serving of kibble and a quick rinse in the shallow pool, Jasmine went on a hunt to find the sharpest rock she could.

Most of them were smooth round river stones, she ended up having to smash a few of them together to get any sort of edge. Her sharp rock struggled through the reeds by the water, and more than one frustrated grunt was released while tearing the leaves from the base of the shrub. It took the better part of an hour to collect enough strands to begin her masterpiece, materials in hand she began to tie the leaves together. Over, under and through, it was going to take all her friendship bracelet weaving skills to produce anything worth wearing.

-*-

Foorlan was excitedly guiding the Department Head through the creatures progress, getting to update her superior on every new undertaking the creature attempted.

Xant was glad to hear of the subject's improved condition.

“...Started making crafts, dressing itself in reed clothes and making adjustment to her surroundings. It's unprecedented," She tried to reign in her enthusiasm whilst delivering her report to the superior. "a non-freq organism with such an advanced understanding."

"Indeed," Vuulsi, the eldest of the assistant trio remarked over Foorlans report, bringing up the live video feed for Xant to inspect. "It could easily be on the same leave as User intelligence. The craftsmanship is rather crude, collecting its food in one place for storage," he rubbed his large head thoughtfully, "However, I will have to send Myra the video for confirmation."

"I'll do it!" Fen interjected, "I need to catch up with her before Jess returns to the behavioural department."

The researchers all nodded in agreeance. This was the most exciting prospect any of them had worked on, including the ventures Xant had participated in on unclaimed planets.

"and how is the organism fairing?" Xant asked, he had been keeping tabs on the updates Foorlan had been incessantly sending him.

"it's very lively Doctor." Foorlan announced proudly, hoping to make up for her previous setback. "I’ve documented several cases of higher intelligent factors, including craftsmanship, gathering and shelter making, cleanliness. All the hallmarks of primitive User societal structures and you've arrived just in time for it to demonstrate minor habitat changes!"

Xant was sceptical and wondered if Foorlan had overestimated the creature's progress. Plenty of other animals collected food and practised hygiene rituals, and while it was rare, it was not unheard of for animals to weave plant materials into external coverings, for warmth or shelter. Perhaps it was novel for her, attributing intelligence to a fauna that mimicked the Qzetillian physiology in so many ways.

Those notions were scrapped, however, as soon as he saw the footage.

It didn't just cover itself in foliage but meticulously weaved complex patterns in what could only be described as clothes.

The creature had made clothes.

That was User at the very least, a User intelligence without a presence in the void. He shuddered at the thought.

"Assistant Fen,while you are taking the footage for examination, send a request to behavioural studies for the sentient list.” Xant ordered.

"I have the footage ready Doctor, I can leave right now." Fen informed him.

"Excellent." Xant approved and returned his attention to the observation screen. Once the Subject had removed all of the larger rocks, it began sweeping clear the ground with a simple brush tool it had made. Probably the foundations for its new nest. That required forethought or the passing on and retaining of knowledge, very useful traits. Then it got on its paws and began scratching in the dirt with a small twig, digging small uniform holes.

Curious behavior, what could it possibly be crafting now?

Could this be an attempt at farming? Or the markings of foundations for a standing shelter?

“We could be holding a Modifier intelligence.” He muttered unwittingly.

"Modifier Sentience?" Vuulsi questioned, "Are you sure Doctor?"

"The creatures actions are not whims of instinct," Xant mused. "Everything it has done so far requires premeditated thought or prior learning."

"But..." Foorlan interjected. "That level of intelligence requires an incredible amount of brainpower. Anything that powerful must generate a Frequency Pulse. How can anything that intelligent conceal its Freq-presence?"

"Perhaps that's what the Rajava were interested in?" Vuulsi speculated.

"Maybe, but, isn't that a step back for the Rajava? Concealing themselves would also mean cutting themselves off from the mass communication frequencies." Foorlan deliberated.

"But it would make excellent stealth units," Vuulsi proposed "Their amalgamations wouldn't need to be constantly monitored, they could hide entire factories this way, wouldn't you agree Doctor?"

But Xant did not reply, his ears stood up, and eyes were transfixed on the screen.

Small sharp pulses of shock permeated the air, they could not ignore him even if they wanted to. Both assistants paused their conversation and turned to see what their superior was engrossed at. The organism had finished its work in the dirt and walked away, leaving not a punctured vegetation field but something truly extraordinary.

Foorlan dropped her dataslate.

Vuulsi made a choking noise in place of words and Xant’s head sunk with realisation.

Crisp and simple symbols marked the ground in a uniform matter. Dots correspond with certain symbols, representations of collections of dots or absence of dots.

Numbers.

The addition, subtraction, division and multiplication of numbers. Presented to them in such a way even a youngling could understand, but any knowledgeable full grown could comprehend the implications.

It didn’t just understand mathematics, the Subject acknowledged that they understood mathematics as well.

The Subject had provided the foundation for understanding each other by scrawling in the dirt.

Xant returned to the screen; the creature had started another weaving project, making chirping noises to itself as it worked. He picked up Foorlans dataslate and handed it back to her.

"Assistant Foorlan, I will be taking charge of this Subject," he ordered. "Inform the Director of our progress." She nodded weakly, clutching her research tool. Xant was suddenly filled with urgency; he would need to prepare an interview room, ready an appropriate dataslate, commission a new dataslate for the project as well as make sure the Subject received comfortable living conditions by Galactic Council Sentience Protocols.

But above all else.

He needed to find a way to offer it the most sincere of apologies.