Her whole world blazed as if she'd just reentered the universe through the sun. In the distance, a voice screamed and screamed. Some part of her mind knew it was her, yet she still had no sense of where she was, who she was. She was travelling through oceans of fire, endless and vast.
It lasted an eternity, wishing only for death and the end, when thunder cracked her body, and the overwhelming heat and brightness collapsed. She grew aware of her head, arms, and legs. She could feel her back on something cool and scratchy. The light against her eyelids was as bright as the sun, but she blinked and forced her eyes open. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her body stung and trembled.
Someone wrapped a coarse around her shoulders. She was picked up and lain on a soft, luminescent bed. A cool breeze drifted over her body, a balm against the physical horrors of cryo-suspension. Blood trickled through her veins. Her heart beat more firmly in her chest. Her skin tingled with a pleasant sense of aliveness.
"There we go."
She blinked, straining to focus on the man who'd spoken. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a hard jaw-line. A name popped into her head: Will. But she didn't know anything else about him. Or herself for that matter.
"It's something isn't it?" he said. "The disorientation is really something. Can't imagine what someone who's been in there for forty years must feel like."
"Where am I?" she said, but her words were a jumble of sound.
"Hold on." Will moved around to stand at her side. Something sharp seared the back of her throat. She coughed, and felt herself choking. Her muscles contracted to push out a slimy, thick worm in her windpipe. Once part of it dangled from her mouth, Will pulled the rest. It hurt. She gurgled and spluttered, and sagged with relief when the tube was fully dispatched with.
"How's the tingling?"
"Like pins and needled."
Will leaned over the luminescent healing pod, and picked up her foot. He kneaded the sole with his fingers, going slowly up her calf to her knee.
The strain in her chest eased and her shoulders and neck muscles relaxed. His hands seemed to work miracles. She couldn't think of anything but how good it felt. By the time he'd finished her whole body seemed to be hers again. She could feel the plastic, jelly knickers and breast-tube sucking at her skin. Anticipating what she wanted, Will presented a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a grey t-shirt.
"I'll be next door," he said. "Let me know when you're done."
She sat up, crossing her arms over her chest. A bit late for modesty, but still.
As the door closed behind will, a memory flashed on her inner eye.
Her mother dabbed her knee with a liquid. The burning sting made her eyes water, but she wanted to be brave, because her mother treated her as though she were brave, because her mother's pride had seeped into her and made her strong.
The memory was like a switch, triggering a download of everything. The last couple of days were the clearest. But she remembered those weeks in the Boulder house with Ed too, and dozens of impressions from her childhood. It was like her identity had been rebooted. Everything, except the last two years.
She struggled with the rubber tube hugging her breasts, finally managed to rip it off, and replaced it with a sports bra. She rolled off the knickers, put on boxer shorts, and slipped the light trousers over her legs.
Will entered as she was tying her trainers.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Ready to hijack the ship?"
"Hijack the ship?" she echoed. She could barely stand up. She'd spent hours, maybe days in suspension and now Will wanted to plough straight into the next life-threatening task?
He narrowed his eyes at her. "What happened with Amada?"
The shikshak had only understood she wasn't Monday, after asking her why she hadn't attempted a break out. Will still didn't know the implant removal had failed. Day wasn't sure whether she should try to fake being Monday, or tell him the truth.
"I saw you get dropped into suspension," she said. "How did you get out?"
Will approached the healing pod where she perched. A slow, casual walk, muscles flexing where the edges of his t-shirt met his shoulders. He had a rock climber's build, every muscle honed and lean, but nothing over accentuated.
He stood before her and gazed straight into her eyes. She grew conscious of wayward strands of hair falling across her eyes, still moist from immersion. Agitation rose through her chest, but it wasn't altogether disagreeable. His head lowered, chin dipping while his eyes remained fixed on her.
"Day?" he said. "Is that you?"
The way he looked at her, the way he spoke, triggered a mix of defiance and anger. For a moment, all physical desire for Will vanished and the question of how he got out of his suspension box rocketed to the front of her mind, filling her awareness.
She tipped herself off the edge of the pod. The move meant she and Will were almost on top of each other. A sense of power rose through her as she stared into his eyes. It was like going into a tunnel. As though his eyes were leading her to something.
Buzzing filled her ears, as Will waved a small, black box next to her head. She grabbed his wrist. The buzzing stopped. The box emitted three blips.
"May I?" he said, asking for her to return him the movement of his arm.
She let go and stepped back.
Will looked down at the machine. Day peered over his shoulder.
64.93237
"What does it mean?" she asked.
"It shows how much the personality implant has disintegrated. When it reaches zero, disintegration can be considered complete."
So she was sixty-five percent Day and thirty-five percent Monday. She stepped back and walked over to the enormous curved window with its view of space. They were flying at 4000 kilometers an hour. Stars moved leisurely across the vast, dark, vista. They'd have to be going at the speed of light for the stars to appear blurred.
"What's the matter?" Will asked.
"I killed the Shikshak."
"It's okay."
She spun around, the anger rising like a serpent.
"Okay? I killed your friend Amada. He put a gun to his chest and crushed my hand until I pulled the trigger."
"You're still holding on. The more you struggle against what's happening, the more you suffer."
His gaze rested on hers, radiating a comforting luminosity that entered her mind and dispersed the dark thoughts. How did he do that?
The overhead ship lights began blinking. Will jumped to the other side of the control room, and began typing things on a small screen.
"Nothing to worry about," he said.
Then the lights went out. Day stood in darkness, chest rising and falling in deep, unsettled breaths. Beyond the two windows on each side of the ship's nose, she could see the stars had ceased moving. There came a deafening sound, like a massive whirling generator switching off.
"Have we lost power?"
"Yes," Will said. "They've shut off the power. Some sort of signal must have been transmitted when our suspension boxes opened. And this is their response. Shut off the power so no one can escape. They'll send a police shuttle to check out what's happening. See if it's some sort of fault with the freezers, or a break-out."
"And you know how to get the power back on?"
"That was Monday's job."
Day pushed down the fear. If getting the power back on before the police arrived was Monday's job, then she would have to call up Monday to the surface.
"Show me the power grid."
Low light shimmered in front of her, slowly brightening. Will held a sphere the size of a golf ball, and as he rubbed it, the light grew brighter. He gave it to Day, then took out another and rubbed until it glowed.
"Come with me."
Using brute force, Will slid the doors over their rails, and in this fashion, they worked their way down the ship. Three suction doors later, they reached the cargo hold, an enormous chamber containing rows of upright suspension boxes clamped into place with metal arms hanging from a rail in the ceiling. Dim emergency lights threw an eerie glow over the hundred-meter long room.
As they walked through the hold, Day glimpsed the humans inside the cryosleep pods. Stiff faces, closed eyes, colourless skin. It was like a morgue of the country's youngest and fittest. She didn't see a man or woman who looked more than forty.
Halfway down, Will snuck between three rows of pods on the left, and sunk to his knees.
"Here," he said, passing her his globe light. She held it up to illuminate their shadowy surroundings. Will ran his hands over the metal plates at the bottom of the hull wall. He inched along, searching the metal surface. When he found it what he was looking for, he pressed the panel, and it popped off revealing a glass box. Day crouched down beside him, fascinated and alarmed. Two metal poles stood inside the box. An arc of electric sparks danced between them.
"It's all yours," Will said, standing back to give her room. She stared at the power grid, but nothing about it seemed familiar. Nothing came to her, not the smallest stirring of what to do. Will's hand brushed hers. Her eyes shot to his, but he wasn't trying to do anything, he was taking the glow lights.
"I'll let you work," he said, placing the lights at her feet and retreating. She focused on the grid, tried to release the pressure in her head and relax.
Come on Monday. You know this. You've got this.
She waited. Nada. She glanced back at Will. He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, face peaceful. Irritation wormed through her. Couldn't he at least try to help her figure it out. Couldn't he tell her something, give her a clue to jog her memory? Shouldn't he and Monday have prepared for this possible situation?
Suddenly, the hold shuddered. From somewhere far away, there came a distinct 'clunk', as though a small ship had just attached itself to the space shuttle.
"Will!" She hissed. He didn't moved. "Will!"
An electrical vibration filled the cargo hold. It squeezed the sides of her skull, entered her brain and destroyed her line of thinking. Pressing fingers into her temples, she knelt beside Will and knocked his shoulder with her knee. No response. He was in some kind of trance.
On the opposite side of the hold, beyond the rows of prisoners, wires and tubes hung from the ceiling. Four metal containers were stacked near the wall. Day grappled for the glow lights, and stumbled across the central aisle. She hid behind the stack, the vibration in her skull spreading to her body.
The inter-space police would see her empty pod and search the ship. There was no way off the spacecraft. She was doomed.
The ship's engine powered up, and the ceiling guide lights came on. Day concealed the glow lights in her trouser pockets, and gripped onto the cool metal.
"Will," she hissed. "Will!" Still no response.
With the reestablishment of power, the electrical pulsing faded. Day's skin tingled in the aftermath. She looked around her, vision improved with the guide lights in the walls. Above her left shoulder, nestled in the confusion of wires and pipes, was a metal pole. She stood up, and quickly unwound the screw that held it in place. Then she crept along the compartment, weaving in and out of the cryo-suspended humans, pole at the ready.
At the far end, two men entered the cargo hold, flashlights flaring. They wove back and forth through the rows of pods, slowly making their way down the central aisle. One of them stopped at a pod and beckoned the other to his side. Words were exchanged. The second man tapped on the pod and the men burst out laughing.
The men were over fifty feet away and she could not see them clearly, but they didn't seem to be wearing uniforms. Nor were they acting like inter-stellar police.
Day ducked down and scrambled to hide behind a suspension pod. If the men remained distracted, she could get past them unseen. They would find her empty pod. They would find Will, but if they put him back in suspension, once they left, she could get him out.
Ducking and running, she worked her way up the hold. The men, finally bored of whatever had made them crack up with the pod they'd been taping on, continued their check. They scanned the emblems at the bottom of each pod as they passed.
When Day reached the front of the hold, the men were far away at the opposite end. She crossed the intersection and peered around the open door to the next compartment. No one. She worked her way back through the ship, passing the medical station, returning to the honorary captain's deck, where Will had woken her from her suspension pod.
The ship was empty. Maybe the men really were inter-stellar police—a small patrol unit send to checkout a power failure. After all, who else owned space vessels, but the northern world government?
But at the open door to the control deck, she froze. A man sat in the captain's chair. Tanned arms, a wave of dark hair, long legs in dark trousers. Just hair, skin and a piece of material, but they were enough to kill every shred of hope. Instinct pieced together the clues. Instinct told her it was Ed.
A second man stood beside him, waiting for orders. Ed swung left and right in the captain's chair, staring out at the vast expanse of stars beyond.
Day pressed her hands to her chest where it burned. Then she dropped the pole, and stepped through the doorway.
Hi! Hope you're all safe and hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please feel free to leave comments. i love reading them :) Until next week xox