Gardens of Destruction

Darkness enveloped the station, shrouding the asteroid in its cloak. This tranquility seemed to bring a semblance of peace to General Patterson, who struggled with sleeplessness. Rest eluded him as thousands of scenarios regarding the unfolding events and their possible outcomes raced through his mind. His frustration with the scientists’ delays was growing; they worked diligently, yet answers to the crucial questions remained elusive. He couldn’t believe that after all this time, they knew almost nothing about the object and, more importantly, its inhabitants. He was now certain of their existence and had a grim premonition about their intentions. The arrival of the new scientist, Dr. Jana Petroff, with a child in tow, was not something he favored, but he knew her expertise was necessary.

“Hoping she really is worth it. Otherwise, Bernstein will bear the consequences,” the general mused, lying atop his bed still dressed, the blankets untouched.

Such heavy thoughts burdened the base commander, stealing his sleep. Only the silence brought him fleeting comfort. The next morning would bring the same dilemmas. The scientists were frustrated with the restricted access to the object, using it to justify their lack of answers. But Patterson believed his decision to be right. Risking human lives was not an option, at least not yet. However, he knew it was inevitable that special forces would be sent inside. They couldn’t remain in a passive stance indefinitely. The crucial question remained: were they dealing with friendly beings or not? He dismissed Bernstein’s theories of an automated research station. Alien or not, no one built a spacecraft the size of an island without sending a living crew. The President, too, was on edge, struggling to justify the astronomical costs to taxpayers. Everyone expected answers, and journalists prowled like hounds sensing a cover-up.

Wondering if sleep would come that night, a persistent knock at his door signaled yet another sleepless evening. “Come in, it’s unlocked!” he called out to the insistent visitor.

The door tentatively opened, and his secretary slipped in, his eyes wide with apprehension. “What is it?” Patterson asked sternly.

“Sir, there’s something important you need to know, or I wouldn’t have disturbed you,” the assistant spoke nervously.

“Get to the point!” Patterson commanded, already slipping on his shoes, resigned to another wakeful night.

“General, we’ve had another incident, this time involving wild animals.”

Patterson tensed, dreading the continuation even though he knew what was coming. “What happened this time?”

“Hunters shot an elk, struggling immensely to do so. Nearby, they found another, already dead.”

“Do both exhibit the same... deformities as the bird?” Patterson queried, searching for the right words.

“Yes, exactly. The live one became extremely aggressive at the sight of the hunters and attacked them. They killed it, but not without difficulty. Thankfully, no one was injured.”

“Did you ensure their silence?”

“Yes, General. They’re currently quarantined and sufficiently frightened. I believe they won’t talk.”

“Have the specimens been brought to the base yet?”

“Not yet, they’re en route. We decided to avoid drawing attention by not using a helicopter.”

“Good thinking, I approve of your actions,” Patterson nodded, his gaze fixed on the void, contemplating his next move.

“Should I wake the scientists to examine them?” the secretary offered.

“Let them sleep; I doubt they can offer any meaningful answers right now. Leave only the lab’s night staff on duty. But call Bernstein when they arrive; he should be informed. We won’t need the others for now.”

“As you command, Sir!” the assistant replied crisply before exiting the room.

Outside in the chilling night, General Patterson waited for the arrival of the military vehicle, regretting his decision not to bring a coat. The thin wind cut mercilessly through his uniform, but he stood resolute, training his body and mind to endure the pressure, craving a touch of reality in the midst of chaos.

Soon, the military vehicle arrived, bearing its peculiar cargo. The task was more arduous this time; the weight of two elks was considerable. With collective effort, the soldiers managed to maneuver them into the laboratory, where Professor Bernstein paced anxiously.

“Finally, you’ve arrived. I was beginning to think I’d be waiting all night,” Bernstein started, his brows furrowed in irritation.

“Don’t worry, it’s been less than half an hour since I sent for you. Were you told why?” Patterson responded, his voice edged with fatigue.

“Yes, more of those horrifying things?”

“That’s right. Not so thrilled about your ‘extraterrestrial’ contact now, are you?” the general remarked sardonically.

“I’m struggling to comprehend the purpose of such biological vandalism,” Bernstein admitted.

“Do you really have no theories about the intention behind these experiments?” Patterson pressed.

“It’s all purely speculative, Sir!” Bernstein deflected neatly. “Let’s see the animals.”

The two men approached the isolation cabin housing the elks with hesitation. The sight that greeted them was even more harrowing than before. It was as if someone had deliberately removed the animals’ innards and replaced them with materials made of the unknown substance. The scene resembled the sculpture of a misunderstood artist, its purpose unfathomable to any sane mind.

Bernstein recoiled in disgust. “This can’t be real,” he muttered to himself.

“Yes, Bernstein, truth is often scarier than any delusion. You wanted aliens, here they are!” Patterson’s voice dripped with irony.

“Is the perimeter secure? How did they capture these animals?” Bernstein asked, suddenly aware of a critical detail.

“Good thinking, Professor. That’s what I’ve been pondering. I don’t know who or how someone breached our fences, but I think we need to tighten security. I wouldn’t want any uninvited guests sneaking in here unnoticed!”

“General… what if they look like us and we can’t tell them apart?” Bernstein posed, his face serious.

Patterson stiffened and scrutinized Bernstein. “Are you serious?”

Bernstein held his silence for a few seconds, gazing at the floor, but then burst into laughter. “I’m just joking, General! A little humor. Don’t worry, it’s more likely to win the lottery than for them to resemble humans in the slightest!”

Patterson sighed heavily, shooting a reproachful glance at his friend. “Professor, your jokes aren’t fitting for old friends at this hour of the night,” he smiled faintly. “Now, I recommend you get some sleep. I plan to do the same.”

***

They were certain now; it was time to awaken. The creations that filled their consciousness brought them comfort. Waking up was not something they cherished, but this time, they were satisfied. What they had learned, realized, meant only one thing. Did it mean something?

They knew the Others needed to be adhered to the Garden!