When Hera slept on the futon later that night, Eva was on the floor, right beside her, feeling the dull ache in her ribs as she listened to Hera's faint snores. In the background, she heard Soal's low grunts and growls as she was entrusted with the task of reprogramming the liquid, nitrogen infuser.
Eva was slow to nod off. The day's events brightened and dulled with each one she recalled. Hera wasn't there, wrench in hand, nitrogen infuser in the other. From top to bottom, her skin, hair, and clothes were smeared in oil and grease. One moment, she was wondering if lies were there to make the person they're in close association with, brave, or if it made herself feel any stronger.
The next moment, Eva was there, alone, watching out of the lonely window standing inside the room. Her hands shifted over the sill, stroking the rough wood, with nothing but pain in her still healing chest and two halves of a throbbing heart. Today, she thought.
It was only one word that ping-ponged inside her mind.
Today was the day Eva finally felt something stir within her. It wasn't much, but she'd never taken notice to it before. A slight nausea. A little light headedness. It wasn't too hard to overlook it. But today was the day it outright presented itself, and it worried Eva.
Hera had been acting quite different the past two days. First, she was angry, wanting to pick a fight with her poor sister in the wheelchair. Then, out of the blue, she breaks down, caving into Eva's arms and balling her eyes out, continually apologizing: repeating sorry. Her demeanor after that was more relaxed. Open, even. She'd been less stringent with herself. Her back was not as straight when standing or sitting. Even the way she worked wasn't as fast. She seemed to enjoy what she was doing, relishing the strings of code scrolling across the screen, as if it was the last time she'd be seeing it.
Eva noticed this. She didn't enjoy her sister's softness. In fact, it felt weird. Foreign. Maybe as a child, the softness in her sister was pleasant and familiar. But after watching her sister grow up, even while on the spacecraft, she could see and hear the hardness grow. It obviously developed further after she and Hera lost contact with each other, and weight was thrown onto Hera's shoulders.
Whatever the reason for her hardened self, that was what Eva found familiar. Not that soft personality that Hera now beheld.
YOU ARE READING
Ground Two
Science Fiction- ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴘʟɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴛᴡᴏ. - ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴀʟᴠᴇꜱ, ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏʀʙɪᴛ, ᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. - ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀʟꜰ ɪꜱ ʙᴀʀᴇʟʏ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴏɴ, ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ. - ʟᴜᴍɪɴᴀ, ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ-ʀᴀᴠᴀɢᴇᴅ ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴏ...
