It was gorgeous. A waterfall of green slime oozed down the red slope before her, glistening in the small† light that came from her captor’s cave of a mouth. Halitosis was not a problem for her; she’d researched places like this before, all of which had worse breath. It had the hint of rotted corpses and rancid eggs among† gaseous fumes, all of which were standard in her research environments. To anyone else, it was the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard to their nose. To Traci, this was the perfume of the natural habitat of the rare species of worms. She stepped over a lump on its sticky, slimy tongue to a large, clear barrel. It was clearly‡ full of worms, crawling over each other as they tried to break open the seal to their tiny cage, but Traci held her hands on her hips and still wanted more.
“Charlie Two, requesting another sample case,” she pushed the microphone gently, so her words would be clearer. It was a bit uncomfortable, because the headset was even tighter around her head than the maroon bandana she had clasped on her neck-length brown hair, but at least she wouldn’t have to repeat her words to the Facility. The operator was an a**, not to mention hard of hearing. “November Seven should be ready for pickup.” She looked over to another suited-up researcher, who was also wearing a yellow-and-orange jumpsuit under a large brown jacket and cargo pants. He waved at Traci. She smiled back and waved before turning back to the blanket of falling slime. Her orange boots were just a bit lighter than the surface beneath her, which was pulsing every few seconds. It was a bit tricky maneuvering around the large lumps on the ground, but, then again, she’d been doing this for years. One step at a time, she pulled her boots out of the slime, then stepped down a foot ahead, then pulled the other boot out and put it down with the same disgusting sucking and slurping noises. Any newcomer to this job would be constantly complaining and making disgusted noises, but not Traci. She kept walking with determination until she finally came to the curved slope at the end of the platform that loomed into darkness.
This was the worst part of researching a Galleon; their throats were so deep, so large, so… Dark.
Not that she was scared of dark areas.* She was scared of plummeting 200 feet down into the abyss of a creature’s intestines, with no way up except probably a helicopter. The Galleon probably wouldn’t like that, though. It was hard enough scaling up the large figure- the closest animal to this thing would be a whale, except this had no fins, --just claws under its body like a crab’s, especially since its scales were so dark and smooth. Then, when you finally got in its mouth, you came across large worms, about a foot in diameter and three feet long.
"And that’s what we’re researching," she thought. "We’re destroying the ecosystem of these mutated creatures because they carry a cure for every disease imaginable. Then again, they are mutated, so they’re not even a part of nature any more…"
“Uniform Five! Uniform F-ve, do you r—d m-“
The crackle of static interrupted her thoughts, and she quickly pressed a spot on her ear, hastening to hear the beep that would signal her answer would be transmitted.
“Yes, Kilo Four, I hear you. What’s up?”
“You ha—to g-t out – he-e. Si-nals show it m---t re-ease g-so-n.”
Traci’s head jerked back, as if the sender of the signal could see her questioning glare, paused, then quickly turned to the other researchers, all of whom quickly dropped their materials and followed her to the mouth. One would think there would be large fangs hanging above their head as they reached it, but, like a whale, the Galleon had no teeth. Traci checked her jacket as she ran, tugging at ropes to make sure they were secure. At the edge of the Galleon’s pink lip --which was about four yards long --she took a quick glance at all the other researchers beside her, nodded, and then the whole group --twenty in all --jumped.
Below them was the sea, but if they positioned themselves right they could land on one of the platforms that hung in the air due to gravity disruptions in the past. Traci held her body vertical with arms clinging to her sides, and zoomed to the ground faster than any of the other researchers. 3… 2… 1…º At the last second, she caught a hanging branch on one of the trees of an especially high floating island, abandoning the others to use their parachuts. "Sissies!" she thought as she grinned, hoisting herself to a sitting position on the rather large branch.
She turned back to the Galleon, which actually did look relatively similar to a whale --if you didn’t count its shell and its claws --waiting for it to expel its gas. A rumbling came, then a gurgle, and then a thick pume of green fog slowly filtered between the Galleon’s thick blubber of purple lips. Traci’s mouth slowly opened as the fog was caught by the wind and then started changing colors. It went from hot pink to a light cyan, to a deep purple to a strange tint of olive, and then it fell down to the ground, painting it with more colors than Traci even knew. Was this… a good thing? Or was it pollution? Even after years of researching these things, she still didn’t know. Either the slime or the worms had curing properties, but… what about the animals? Didn’t they deserve to keep their own cure, instead of humans invading their bodies and stealing it from them? Traci shook her head, sat back, and waited for the helicopter that would retrieve her from her momentary prison.
To her, it was the freest she had ever been.
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