Chapter 8: Experiment 628
Stitch looked around in amazement. Jumba had been able to recreate his entire lab down here! That was impossible without the Grand Councilwoman’s knowledge – she had been closely monitoring Jumba’s resource stock. But how then…
He found the nearest terminal and typed furiously. Jumba had clearly covered his tracks well – there was not a mention of anything new. But there were some mentions of a new ‘project’, and something about the 600 series…
He checked the map. “All ‘projects’ – e.g. technology, biology, genetics, other – can be found in Area D2,” the computer droned.
He easily found D2.
He walked through the doors – which made a pleasing ‘whoosh’ sound. A terminal was already logged on and waiting for input. It read “Processing file E-IGE-85364635-628… Complete.”
Suddenly something beeped. Stitch turned around.
Before him was a glass container with some sort of opaque liquid. As he watched, he noticed the fluid level was going down…
As the liquid drained away, he saw an ear, an eye, a nose… a body… him… and yet not him.
Suddenly, it opened it’s eyes. Stared curiously down on 626.
And then hammered the container… it cracked. He hammered again. And again.
After about the fifth time, the glass finally yielded, shattered, collapsed. The figure jumped down from the platform, the glass crunching beneath his feet, and yet he did not flinch even once. He glared at Stitch… and spoke.
“Experiment 626, you shall not defeat me.”
His voice was cold, heartless, evil. If there was anything that could compare to it, it would be the voice of Lord Voldermort of Harry Potter fame.
“Why are you so sure?” Stitch growled back.
“Because I am Experiment 628, and I am in every was superior to you.”
A yellow fluffball was snoozing in an old but very comfy armchair. At least, that’s what Gantu thought it was. The term might have been “footchair”… Even after two years on this stupid waterlogged mosquito infested planet, he had still not learnt some of the most basic terms.
The yellow furball raised his head groggily.
“What! I was dreaming of sandwiches!”
The computer beeped again.
“You were supposed to get that!”
“Why can’t you? Even you can push a button.”
Gantu muttered to himself as he crossed the room to the experiment container and pressed one of the buttons on the padd.
“…why do I have to do everything around here…”
“Experiment activation detected. Origin, Area 585, Vector 65. Unknown experiment activated. Primary function, unknown.”
The computer beeped again.
A gerbil-faced being appeared on the viewscreen.
“Of cause it is me, you over-sized whale with legs!”
Experiment 625 clicked his tongue.
“Told ya he’d be mad.”
“You did not…”
“Stop with all the not paying attention to me! Now, tell me, what did it mean, unknown?”
“I don’t know, it must be a bug in the software, it’s never done that before…”
“I don’t care what it has or has not done, just get me my experiment! Now!”
Lilo wandered down a path she had not been down since… forever. Not since Gantu first showed up and tried to capture the then evil 626…
Lilo stopped in her tracks. There, straight in front of her, was Kioni Jamison. Ten years old, tall and cute (well, to Lilo anyway), Kioni was Lilo’s major crush. Not that he didn’t know that. Experiment 199 had told him all about Lilo’s crush on him, but she had managed to cover it all up. At least, so she thought.
Thoughts started rushing round her head. What will I do? What will I say?
Finally she decided.
“Look, Lilo, we need to talk…”
“Pleakly, we are not supposed to be putting dog food in salad!”
Jumba and Pleakly were at the brightly-lit, too-colourful, brand new Westfield Mall, decorated with hundreds upon hundreds of posters proclaiming “99.999 percent off everything” and what-not.
Pleakly, a one-eyed, bright yellow, cross-dressing, typical Roswell-style alien, was pushing a shopping cart filled to the tip with dog food, foot powder, birdseed and talcum powder.
“Excuse me, but Helen the Hostess…”
“I am not caring what snobby earthling on one-way visual telecommunication device is saying, humans do not eat birdseed!”
“Excuse me, but who is the Earth expert here?”
“If your knowledge of Earth is being as bad as flabby earthling disguise, we are being in trouble,” Jumba muttered.
“What was that?”