H Romero - The Girl Who's Made of Leaves - Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction

Entrance is gained, one at a time, through a place where the floor inside the ship isn’t too far down. Once inside they can all clearly hear beeping and buzzing, and low electrical humming. Dim lights of various colors blink and shimmer throughout the vessel.

“This ship still has an active source of power,” says Connors. “Everyone keeps their eyes open, and no one touches anything. Understood?”

No one answers. The experience of being inside an alien ship is overwhelming. Shriveled extraterrestrial bodies litter the corridors.

“Whoever they were, they were tall,” says Dr. Valentine.

The bodies are shriveled and dry, like tomato vines culled from a vegetable garden after an early blight.

“I wonder what happened. What killed them all?” says Connors.

“Rose,” says Dr. Shaw. “Do you have any knowledge of this vessel? Can you sense anything, or does it remind you of anything?”

“No, Dr. Shaw. I’ve never been here before.”

“I know you haven’t, but I was hoping maybe you might know, like you knew about the picture of the jeep, before.”

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay, Rose,” Let us know if you recognize anything that might help us,” says Shaw.

“Look around for something that might be a weapon. We need to be ready to fight those things off when they come.,” says Connors.

They follow a corridor leading up a spiral staircase, which, in turn, lets out to a room filled with chairs and controls dispersed throughout. The Major thinks this may be the bridge of the ship, because of its location near the forward hull and the layout of the control systems.

A sleek wall to one side of the room is filled with flat glass panels, and on them are images of the inner ship. Some of the panels show the land surrounding the vessel.

Rose quietly studies the levers, switches, dials, and buttons, and flickering lights, while Major Connors searches for weapons to fight the Red Queen when the time comes. Dr. Valentine and Dr. Shaw intrigued with the technology of the ship, talk amongst themselves on the other side of the bridge.

On one of the flat panels, there’s movement. Small symbols, like the ones Rose has seen in her mind before, scroll across the glass screen. The symbols spell out the word SEVENTY-THREE UNIDENTIFIED LIFEFORMS DETECTED. LOCATION OUTER SHIP PARAMETER. The Red Queen and her Hive have arrived.

“Major Connors! Look,” says Rose.

The Major rushes across the supposed bridge. He’s still found nothing that would serve as a weapon. The Turned have come, and they’re looking for a way in.

“What in the hell are we going to do?” says, Dr. Shaw.

“They’re coming across on the trees,” says Dr. Valentine. “If they get in here, we’re all dead.”

Rose jolts. She notices a control panel laid out before her. The schematic, and the purpose, and the knowledge of when and how to use it, flash before her vision.

Before anyone can stop her, she shouts, “I know what to do!” She punches a button and a for the briefest time the flickering lights dim all around them, draining power from the ship’s limited supply.

Something somewhere made a whirring noise, and one by one the trees bridging the gap, from rim to craft are vaporized, along with any Turned unfortunate enough to be on the trees at the time. Other Turned who were waiting to cross, were thrown back from the perimeter of the ship.

“What did you do, Rose?” says Connors.

“It’s like an invisible barrier,” says Dr. Valentine. “Incredible.”

“How long will it keep them out?” asks Dr. Shaw.

“Not long. The ship is dying,” says Rose, she looks saddened by the thought. “They will be in before the sun goes down.”

“That’s an hour from now,” says Connors, watching the panel, showing the Red Queen rampaging along the rim of the canyon, and her soldiers throwing their spears, only to be harmlessly reflected away from the invisible barrier.

There is a schematic of the ship on one of the panels, and Connors asks if Rose can point out an armory.

“It was here,” says Rose, pointing to a section of the vessel, entirely destroyed by the crash.

“What about a science department or a medical facility?” says Dr. Shaw.

“Here.” Rose places her little finger down on the glass panel.

“It’s not far,” says Dr. Valentine, who glances at Connors.

“You and Dr. Shaw go. See if you can find out anything about the Turned, what they are, why they’re here, who these dead aliens are, anything the fuck at all,” says Connors. “I’m going to keep searching for weapons and keep my eyes on our friends out there.”

The craft is vast, and there are many twists and turns throughout. The ship seems to have no logical layout, and at closer scrutiny appears to be something that would have been grown rather than constructed; or maybe a bit of both. There is a multitude of organic components built into the walls and floors and arched ceilings.

Finally, Dr. Valentine, Dr. Shaw, and Rose come to the place where Rose indicated the medical facility was located.

The chamber is outfitted with several long, rounded pods. The pods look more like an oversized magnolia blossom than a piece of otherworldly medical equipment. Inside are more shriveled up alien corpses.

Dr. Valentine is startled by movement above. It’s just birds, thank God. But now, something that isn’t ‘just birds’ is speaking in a robust and guttural voice. It reminds her of a mix of Swedish and Russian.

“What is it?” Dr. Valentine says.

A shadow falls across her. Something is moving between one of the gaping holes in the hull and where she and Rose are standing. Dr. Shaw is several feet behind them.

“What is it saying, Rose, do you know?” says Dr. Shaw.

“It’s saying something about detecting an injured lifeform entering the room. I have a strange feeling, it’s talking about me,” says Rose, though she’s only certain when a light-bodied sphere floats across the room and shines a light in her face. Its exterior casing reminds Rose of the leafy texture of the hull of the spaceship.

Dr. Valentine shouts and reaches out for Rose, but the moment her hand makes contact with the girl’s arm, a blue light shines down on them, and she’s bombarded with memories and thoughts that aren’t her own.

Her mind is connected with Rose’s, and together they stand locked in a beam of light, and it’s speaking in an alien language, but Dr. Valentine can somehow understand precisely what it’s saying.

“Head trauma. Loss of memory detected. Conducting repair to host’s brain,” says the voice.

A tangle of vines springs from the sphere and touch Rose’s face and neck. They undulate and pass over her skull, then there are images forming as if from vapor, but then they become as tangible as if they are right in front of them. They are images of what must be Rose’s forgotten memories.

“Come down from that tree. You are going to break your fool neck,” The woman is laughing out of sheer nervousness. “Now get down right now and go wash up for dinner.”

“Okay, mommy,” says Rose.

The undulating vines reposition themselves and Rose moans.

“Mommy, mommy,” cries a small girl.

It’s Rose, but much younger. Her bedroom door bursts open, and a woman comes in.

“What is it, baby sweet?” says the woman.

Rose can only point at the rocking chair in the corner. A pile of clothes sits there, still unfolded. “Monster! It was looking at me.”

“It’s not a monster, just laundry, see, baby sweet?” The woman hugs and kisses Rose and tucks her in, before taking the clothes and leaving the bedroom. The vision dims.