Boundaries and Battle Lines
I storm down the hallway, my steps echoing sharply against the cold floors. Ben is barely keeping pace behind me, and I can feel the tension radiating from him as he tries to match my speed. I don’t blame him for my anger; he’s been nothing but patient with me since I got here. But I need answers. I need to understand how they expect me to conduct research with every boundary tightly drawn, with constant surveillance suffocating my every move.
My mind races with questions. How am I supposed to understand this creature who is clearly more than just a subject, more than just some specimen behind glass—if I can’t study him with even a sliver of empathy or respect? How can I do my job if I’m forced to compromise my ethics, if I’m not allowed to apply the humane practices that have guided my career? I feel trapped, restricted by people who have little respect for the delicate complexity of my work.
Ben, sensing my fury, hurries behind me. “River, maybe we should—”
I stop abruptly, spinning on my heel to face him, my words sharp and cold. “Take me to Drayton.”
He nods, not even bothering to argue. He’s learned that when I’m like this, there’s no point trying to reason with me. Silently, he leads the way down the hall toward Drayton’s command office. The hallways are eerily quiet, sterile and stark, as if the walls themselves are hiding secrets.
As we approach the office, I hear the muffled sound of Drayton’s voice. He’s on the phone with someone, and his tone is low, laced with impatience. I pause just outside the door, and Ben gestures for me to wait, his hand raised as a subtle reminder to tread carefully.
“...She needs to be dealt with,” Drayton’s voice filters through, grating and severe. “We need to dispose of her.”
My stomach drops, the words freezing me in place. Who is he talking about? Could he mean me? Or—my heart skips a beat—The Creature? The thought makes my blood run cold.
Ben hesitates only a moment before knocking firmly on the door. Drayton’s conversation cuts off abruptly, and after a tense pause, I hear his clipped response, laced with irritation. “I’ll call you back,” he snaps into the phone. There’s a click as he hangs up, and then his voice barks out, as biting as I’d expected.
“Why the fuck are you here, soldier? If you’ve lost her, so help me, that will be the end of you.”
For a moment, I’m shocked at the venom in his tone. This is how he talks to his men? Ben has always been so polite, so professional. But here, faced with his superior’s wrath, he stands at rigid attention, his face a mask of compliance.
No, Colonel, sir. I haven’t lost her. She’s standing just outside.” His voice is steady, unwavering. “She would like to speak to you.”
There’s a brief silence before Drayton lets out a sharp sigh. “Well, why the fuck didn’t you say so?” he growls. “Send her in and close the damn door.”
Ben steps back, nodding toward the door to signal me to enter. I push past him, determined, squaring my shoulders as I stride into the office. Drayton is standing behind his desk, his arms crossed, his expression an unreadable mask of authority. His gaze is like steel, sizing me up with a scrutiny that would make most people flinch. But I’ve faced tougher opponents, and I refuse to let him intimidate me.
“What is it, Dr. Adams?” he snaps, barely giving me a second to speak.
I don’t hesitate. “I need to understand why I’m being restricted in my work, Colonel,” I say, my voice firm. “How do you expect me to provide you with accurate, useful findings if you won’t allow me to approach this creature with a level of respect and empathy?”
His eyes narrow. “Dr. Adams, I don’t think you understand the nature of this operation. We’re not here to make friends with this... specimen. We’re here to observe, to collect data, to determine if he poses any threat.”
“By treating him like a lab rat?” I counter, barely keeping my anger in check. “He’s intelligent, Colonel. He understands more than you give him credit for, and if we keep treating him as nothing more than a sample, we’ll never get real insight into his abilities, his nature.”
Drayton’s jaw tightens, his gaze cold and unyielding. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Dr. Adams. You may see him as something more, but at the end of the day, he’s here for research. We’re not concerned with his comfort or your personal code of ethics. This is a government operation. The protocol is clear.”
“Protocol,” I repeat, my voice low, the word heavy with disdain. “Protocol that involves withholding basic decency? You want answers, but you’re tying my hands, refusing to let me do my job the way I was trained. How do you expect me to determine his nature, his potential, if I’m not allowed to engage with him?”
For a moment, Drayton’s expression falters, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. He shifts, leaning forward slightly, his tone dropping to a harsh whisper. “Let me make one thing clear, Dr. Adams. Your role here is to report your observations. Nothing more. This isn’t a petting zoo. This isn’t about morals or ethics. If I hear any more resistance from you, your place here will be re-evaluated.”
I meet his gaze evenly, refusing to let him see the crack in my resolve. He’s testing me, pushing me to see if I’ll back down, if I’ll play by his rules without a fight. But I refuse to let go of the belief that I can do better by the creature, that I can prove there’s value in understanding him beyond cold observation.
“Understood, Colonel,” I say, my voice tight but controlled. “But remember that you hired me for my expertise. If you keep boxing me in, you’ll end up with flawed results. Let me handle this my way, within reason, and I can get you what you need.”
Drayton’s eyes narrow, a thin line of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take your concerns into consideration, Dr. Adams. For now, stick to the protocol.”
It’s a hollow answer, a vague promise that holds no real weight. But I know that I can’t push further—not now, not here, with the stakes so precariously high. I force myself to nod, turning to leave, though every instinct tells me to keep fighting, to demand more.
As I step outside the office, Ben is waiting, his expression guarded. He doesn’t ask what happened, and I don’t volunteer the details. But I know he saw enough, heard enough, to understand the futility of my conversation.
“Are you alright?” he asks quietly as we walk down the corridor.
I nod, though my mind is racing, torn between anger and frustration. “I just—” I pause, searching for the right words. “I can’t help the creature if they won’t let me approach this ethically. They don’t understand him, Ben. They don’t see him as anything but a threat.”
Ben is silent for a moment, his gaze fixed ahead. “Maybe they’ll come around,” he says, though there’s a note of doubt in his voice.
I don’t respond, unwilling to let go of my frustration.