Incipience

Chapter 2

There've been a lot of thoughts spiraling around my head for the past few hours, most of them starting with 'why?'. Why did they come to Earth? Why was I chosen to come on board if not for the cultural exchange program? Why did I wake up from stasis when the others didn't? Why did they feel the need to put us in stasis to begin with? Why didn't they put everyone they took from Earth under too? Why won't they tell me what's going on here?!

I've been trying to come up with answers to these questions for myself all day, but my ideas are theories at best, seeing that I have so little information about what's going on. When I was collected from Earth, we were told that a few thousand young adults (16-25 years old) were to stay in orbit to teach them about Earth and its different cultures from the point of view of the youths. I was so excited about the prospect! How could I not be? I'm an anthropology major with a love for astronomy, so everything about the cultural exchange program seemed perfect. Alas, the Inovarians aren't the diplomatic saviors I thought them to be.

Reflecting on what all has transpired within the past 48 hours, I know that they never had any intentions of keeping us in orbit. There are way too many materials and medical supplies equipped especially for keeping us sedated for this to have been a spur of the moment 'oh, we were in the neighborhood and wanted to help, but while we're here let's be buddies' kind of situation. No, they're much too prepared.

I drag myself on top of my cot, tired from fighting against this intense gravity for so long. I just spent the past hour or so walking through aisles of the barracks that I woke up in. I know I won't be able to fall asleep, but I close my eyes and allow my mind to mull over what I've observed thus far.

This barrack consists of only women, and each woman is hooked up to a machine that seems to be catered to their specific needs. Some women have a simple IV attached to them and compression socks to help with circulation while others are encased into these glowing glass pods with breathing masks and dozens of IV's plugged into them. 

It doesn't take a genius to conclude that they are preparing our bodies for something. My guess is that they are building and maintaining our strength for whatever they have planned for whenever we get to God knows where.

We all seem to be ordered by body type and maintenance requirements. The women in the pods make up the first few rows and consist of those who look almost sickly. The next few rows are full of women who are hooked up to very intense machines. Their physiques are similar to those in the pods, but they're noticeably stronger than their counterparts. The next dozen or so rows have women with only a few wires attached to them. They look healthy for the most part. The rest of us are kept at the back of the room and are by far the most in shape.

 Obviously, all of us don't have the exact same proportions, but there's quite a bit of muscle in this area. They took us as we were from our homes, so there was little to no time to change clothes for many of us. This is evident by the amount of team gear, jerseys, work out clothes, and sneakers resting on the floor. I'm personally still wearing one of my old track team jerseys, so it's not too much of a stretch to think those dressed similarly are current or former athletes/workout buffs.

BANG!

There's a loud sound from the other side of the room. My eyes immediately go to the source of the sound to see one of them standing at the barrack's large, metal door. By the looks (and sound) of it, the guard's the one who just slammed the door open. I let out a soft sigh. Was that necessary?

"Female 340-00803, you will now report to your new barracks. Collect your belongings."

I do my best not to roll my eyes at the demanding and awfully robotic-sounding tone of the guard takes with me. It's like they're just trying to be unlikeable.