Nilologue - Part 2

The wall-to-wall mirrors above the sinks in the bathroom contained a horror. I pinched and pulled at my face, but it just didn't - fit. A thin fuzz covered my scalp, but it wasn't enough to soften the skull beneath. My cheekbones stuck out at right angles from a jaw full of teeth. My lips had cracked all the way to the quick. My gums... I closed my mouth again, and stared. My skin felt like a thin layer of plastic, clinging to the sparse flesh beneath. Only my eyes felt safe, blue and clear, seeing clearly what had - happened to me. "Screamer, huh." I said under my breath, watching my neck move. The bandages on my right arm had been wrapped in another plastic covering, so I wouldn't get them wet. I turned away from the mirror while I finished getting undressed. I didn't really want to-

Anyway.

The cubicle showers were an exercise in nozzles and tubes. The sparse, hot, high-pressure stream beat a drumbeat on my barely hair, scouring out some kind of slime that had gotten missed and dried. The water ran over my skin and was sucked down through the fine mesh floor that pulled at my toes. I stood under the water, swaying gently in the spray. Maybe if I waited long enough, the rest of me would dissolve as well. Just steadily disintegrate, and flow down through the tubes and nozzles and pipes. Only the bandages left behind. Defective plumbing. Repairs are harder than replacements. The hot water was really hot. My hands were red.

blink.

"... come on Bec. You're alright. Come on, easy does it."

"... Gen?"

"There you are! How are you feeling?"

"-I'm, I'm ok. Where are we?"

"We're still in the showers. I think you passed out. Again. We can't keep meeting this way, ha, you can just come talk to me."

The blurry blonde head leaned back, and a guy with cropped black hair leaned over me and started messing with the towels wrapped around me. I reached out, affronted, until my eyes focused all the way. It was another girl, just with hair only a little longer than mine. "This is all feeling a bit too familiar," the new girl said "Is she going to be ok?"

"Bec will be fine, so long as you stop fussing. No, really! Git."

"Fine. I'm getting breakfast. And a drink. Here I was thinking today was going to be fine, get some actual work done, but no, now I gotta..."

Gen turned her head to watch the girl as she left, who kept talking to herself the whole way. Gen sighed. "That's Ingrid. She's- hey, hey don't cry! Ingrid's nice, she doesn't mean it, she just hasn't eaten anything yet."

My fingers were clamped around Gen's arm. I didn't remember when I'd done it.

"Gen. Gen, am I dying." It wasn't a question. I could just barely talk around the lump in my throat, the rising bile and horror.

"Rebecca, Rebecca, what did I tell you." Gen peeled away my hand, and held it between her own. Her eyes were wet. "I'm not a fucking doctor." but she was smiling. "Bec, you're not dying. I'm not going to lie, when Simon told me what had happened to you, I was pretty sure the next question was going to be, did we have bins large enough for a corpse. And then you were walking around! And talking! I'm serious." Gen was half laughing, wrapping the pile of grey towels around me tighter. The tiles on the floor of the shower were incredibly cold when a gap snuck through to my bare skin. "At this point, I'm pretty sure there is nothing that can actually kill you. No, you're not dying. You're coming back to life. And it must suck balls."

"You mean, I was dead?"

"Basically. The cryopod you were in failed near the very end of the cycle. You were woken up while still like, thirty percent water by weight. Your blood must've been fucking soup! Heart like a horse though. Simon thought you were already dead, and then you go and yell at the poor boy to let you out. He closes up the pod, smashes open the next one to get the parts you needed, Ingrid hot-wires the thing, and- well, you lived."

"So I'm not dying."

"No, silly. No faster than the rest of us."

I laughed weakly, and sat up a bit more. She laughed as well, patting me on the shoulder. Her hands felt warm on the goosebumps that covered my arm. She stood up quickly, turning to a cupboard and grabbing yet another towel to wrap around me. "You, um, want to have another shower? Maybe not so warm this time."

"No, I'm alright," I said, standing. "I feel much better." The four towels wrapped around me were the same grey as my clothes. The uniform I had just changed into had ended up a soaked mess on the floor.

"Alright. I'm glad. I'll, well, I'll find you so more clothes. Hang tight."

I gave Gen a wan smile, then hastily shut my mouth, remembering the state of it. She smiled back though, soft-eyed.

Jack was back in the mess hall once I was dried and dressed, now with a livid red slap mark on his left cheek. Ingrid was sat on the very furthest table, away from the entrance, churning through a bowl of the white stuff.

"Morning sunshine," said Jack as I entered. "Feeling better?"

"Yes," I replied "thanks to Gen and Ingrid. Thank you, Ingrid." Jack smiled even wider.

"I'll say!"

"Oh shut up, pig." said Ingrid from the far side. "Ignore him."

Gen came and sat down next to me, she'd changed back into the standard uniform. I didn't know where her modified outfit had gone to. I heard Simon before I saw him, coming through a propped-open steel door I hadn't been through yet. "Hallways are open today." he said to the four of us. "I'll be checking it out as far as that large room we found last time. Now that we are all here, what is the plan?"

Jack called out from the side. "Not all of us." Simon scowled, only for a second.

"Now that all of us, except Hugo, are here, we can plan for the day."

"What will Hugo be doing today." interrupted Jack, again, leaning back.

"I know what you'll be doing Jack," replied Simon. "Being a right pain. Fine. Today, Hugo will be doing whatever he wants."

"Great! I'll do the same." said Jack, standing up and brushing off his pants. "If you need me, you'll know where to find me."

"No we won't." said Ingrid. "And we definitely don't need you."

Jack stuck out his tongue, but said nothing, heading away towards the bunks. Simon watched him go.

"Again?" murmured Gen.

"Quiet." said Simon. "It's fine."

"Who's Hugo?" I asked Gen, but she brushed me away.

"Can I borrow the crowbar?" said Ingrid. "I'm going to crack open that wall in the medbay. See if I can't find an override or something."

"And break whatever's in there?" said Gen. Ingrid shrugged.

"We can't open it, so it may as well not exist right now. Can't break it any worse than that."

Simon nodded. "Gen, you go with her, and see what you can find." Gen muttered something about, not a doctor, but stood up to go.

"And what about me?" I said, standing as well. Simon looked at Gen, and Gen looked at me, and Gen looked at Simon, who looked back at me.

"Rebecca..." he started.

"No!" If I had been standing, I would've stomped my foot. "I'm feeling much better, take me with you Simon."

"Rebecca, be reasonable-" Simon tried again.

"No way. I'm not just sitting around and doing nothing while the rest of you work. Heh, hey Gen. Gen."

She stopped, half turned. "What."

"Guess what I'm doing today Gen."

"..."

"Since the hallways are open, I'm going there."

"Bec, seriously, you have no idea-" started Simon.

"Sure hope I can have someone along to show me the way, otherwise I'll just be exploring by myself. That'd be a shame." I smiled as wide as I could, without actually having to show anyone my teeth.

Simon placed just the tips of his fingers on his temples. Gen smiled brightly, and turned to Simon. "Well. She's not another Jack."

"Great. Fine. Come on Bec."

"This. Is a flashlight." said Simon.

"Uh huh." I said, when he didn't continue.

"What is this?" he asked.

"A... flashlight?"

"Wrong. It's third most important thing that will keep you alive."

"Right. Ok."

"And this," he said, holding up a metal canteen. "Is water. What is this?"

"That's, well, that's the second most important thing that will keep me alive. Right?"

"Correct." Simon nodded.

"Ok, I get it." I said.

"No, you don't." said Simon, putting down the water and flashlight carefully. "Tell me then, what's the most important thing that will keep you alive, out in the hallways, when it's dark and something is moving and it isn't you?"

"A... weapon?" I hazarded.

"Wrong." he flicked me on the forehead, hard.

"Ow!"

"That's the most important thing. Use your head. Understood?"

"Fine, ow, Simon that really hurt."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand." I rubbed my forehead. It didn't feel like the skin was broken, but I wondered if Simon had left a mark. The bastard.

"Good. I've had to pull Gen, and Jack, out of too many scrapes already. Locked doors, breached pipes, some kind of thing that I didn't even get a good look at. It's bad out there, alright? I've gotten too lucky by half and I hate it. I hate it. At least one of us should have already died out there. You take the wrong turn, and let the wrong door close, you can be hours getting back. Or maybe not at all. I haven't lost anyone, yet. I don't plan on it either."

He leaned down. "Are you sure you still want to come with me? There will be other times. The way into the halls opens often enough. There's no shame in staying put until you are fully recovered."

"No, I'm sure" I said, sitting up straight. "I'm coming with you. I won't let you down."

"Bec, that's not the- fine. Thank you for coming with me, Bec."

My cheeks felt warm.

"So, flashlight. The hallway and room lights are sometimes lit, but always keep your flashlight on and pointed where you need it. The lights will just go out with no warning, or flicker at the worst times. Don't point it in anyone's eyes. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Water," he sloshed the canteen around. "Carry it at all times. It's heavy. Don't put it down. I sometimes take two. The air is pretty dry in here, and that's with us living and showering. Out there, it's like dust. You'll do yourself in just breathing it. If a door locks with your water on the other side, it's bad. A while ago, Jack got locked out. Two days he was out there, until I could find another passageway. I've found one other room with taps, like the one's we have in here. Some kind of red gunk came out of it instead. Here," I reached out with both hands, and took the canteen. The metal was faintly warm from Simon's hands. He was shaking, very very slightly. "Got it?"

"Got it boss."

"I'm not your boss."

"Got it, chief?"

"Stop that. This is serious."

"I am being serious!" I protested. He waved me away, and I picked up the flashlight.

"Ingrid needs the crowbar today, so we won't be taking it." said Simon, heading towards the exit from the mess hall. "Truth be told, I get a bad feeling about trying to break open the doors. I think they lock for a reason. We go in, take a look around a bigger room I couldn't explore last time, and then come back here. Understood?"

"Got it, sarge." I saluted with the hand holding the flashlight. Simon snorted like a horse.

(... What the hell is a horse?)

We clicked on the flashlights, and pulled open the large steel doors. There was a hiss as they slid apart, and I felt a faint breeze blowing from the mess hall out into the darkness, a pressure difference. Our flashlights were big black tubes with a flat white end, that shone a clear light out into the gloom. Their light fell on the same steel floors, walls, and ceilings that made up the mess hall and the showers. Apart from the dead lights up above us, it could've just been another room.

"Alright, stay by me." said Simon, taking the first step. Every single step he took let out a muffled clang as his heavy boots hit the floor. Soon, we were two arcs of light in empty space. We passed open doors, closed doors, T-junctions and long hallways. Some of the doors slid open at our approach. Others remained shut. Some doors had large clumsy X's scratched into them, where a sharp piece of metal had traced back and forth across the implacable surface. Simon passed through some of the doors, and gave others a wide berth. I didn't see or hear anything moving, except us. It felt like we were mostly going forwards and left, but I couldn't be sure. At one point, Simon stopped, and reached out to stop me as well. When I tried to talk, he shushed me, pointing to his ears. I listened, and heard nothing except the two of us breathing.

He said nothing. We continued.

I wasn't going to admit it to Simon, not in a thousand years, but I was already feeling a tad bit shaky in the knees. I kept swigging from the canteen, getting a nod each time. Simon walked a little slower as we progressed, stopping to look at each door, turning back to look at the passageway we had just walked down. Eventually, he picked up the pace. "We're here." he said, pushing open the door. "Watch yourself. I've only looked in here briefly."

For a moment, I thought my flashlight had gone dead. I shone it in my eyes, which quickly disabused me of that notion. Once the glare had left my face and my eyes adjusted again, I looked in through the door, shining the light around, more carefully this time. The flashlight shone across the floor, but not on the walls. The walls were too distant for the flashlight to illuminate them. "I thought you said we were going to a large room." I hissed at Simon.

"This is it." he said back, sticking his head in through the door.

"That's not a room, that's some kind of, some kind of. I don't know. It's fucking massive!"

"Fine. It's a massive room, not a large one. Come on."

The echoes of our footsteps abandoned us as we crossed the threshold into the space beyond. Like pebbles, dropping into the ocean. Every time I lifted the beam of my torch from the floor, it was like it flicked off. I kept it at the floor, not happy at all with the void shining right in front of my face. We walked straight forwards, the open door behind us: a flat black gap, in the flat black slate. We moved slower, each taking one step at a time, checking above, below, ahead, behind. Nothing moved but us. A little while later, Simon's torch beam fell weirdly. He moved it back and forth a bit, then took a few steps closer. It was a smooth metal cylinder, rising from the floor to about chest height, about two hand-spans in diameter. Dark grey, a quick tap revealed it to made up of the same metal as the floor. It seemed reluctant to glow under the torchlight, the metal brushed in some way to prevent clear reflections. I bent down to check where it met the metal beneath us, and couldn't find a seam or join. Did it grow from below, pushing up from beneath like a finger through cloth? Or was the metal merged with expertise that surpassed our naked eyes? It made no difference to us. Simon tapped it a few times, ran a hand along each surface, pushed it, then rested his bodyweight atop it. The cylinder neither flexed nor budged. We moved on, and found another identical metal pillar a short distance ahead. Simon told me to wait, and went left a little way, then came back and went right. "A grid" was all he said. Who knew how far these things stretched. Could be a million of them. I didn't bother asking Simon if he had seen anything like this before. Even in the sparse reflected torch light, I could see the thoughts ticking away like clockwork behind those dark eyes.

We moved on, faster now, the metal cylinders slowly flowing past us on the right. So long as we kept the correct column by our side, it would be simple to find the way back to the entrance. When I muttered as such to Simon, he shook his head quickly. "

"Assume you'll get turned around. Actually, assume you have already been turned around. Assume these pillars will start moving around any moment now. We shouldn't even be trusting the floor, not really. It's-"

He snapped his head upwards, looking into the empty black space above. "Wait here." he said, taking a few slow steps away, eyes locked up at an angle. "Keep your flashlight pointing forwards, like that. If you need to run, scream so I know you've moved." He strode off, always looking upwards, boots thumping away.

I waited.

I kept my flashlight pointing forwards. Simon must've been using me as a landmark. Or something.

I waited, fumbled with the cap on my canteen. Gulped, choked a bit, coughed a lot, cannon-fire in the quiet.

(or bait)