Topic: The Promise

[Andromeda]

I like it.  You end your chapters well.  The Doctor not being a doctor of medicine finally becomes a point.  I like the chapter.  So, I'm reading it.

[kadh2000]

A rather low key chapter after the intensity of the last one.  I considered a long scene with Heaven after she talks to Kensington in the Infirmary.  It got too intimate so I ditched it.  I want his romantic interest to be kept with Pamuya.  Those kinds of complications aren't what the story is about.

Chapter 9: Life Strives

He had barely closed his eyes when Medea appeared.  "Is Pamuya going to be alright?"

"You let them know right away," he assured her, "so she's going to be fine."  Her eyes were moist and she had probably been crying.  She tried to smile, but did seem somewhat reassured by his positive attitude. 

"She'll, be alright," he said, closing his hand into a fist.  It was directed at himself as much as to her.

After eternity passed, Dr. Young and Heaven emerged from the infirmary.  "The surgery is over," Heaven reported.  "Pamuya is going to live.  It required over forty stitches and will take two months to heal completely and a few more months for her to be able to walk normally."  It wasn't as good as Starfleet standards, but they could take care of that when they got back to the ship.  "Until a rescue team arrives at Utopia and we can get her out of here, she's going to have to rest."

Kensington nodded and thanked them both.  Dr. Young had a slight frown on her face.  "What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Oh nothing," she replied and covered her mouth to yawn.  "I'm just really tired after that.  I've never done an operation before."

"By the way," Heaven added, "it appears the flooding was contained to the warehouse on the second level.  As an emergency measure, all pipelines to the warehouse have been closed and that entire area has been sealed off from the rest of the second level.  So, we don't have to worry about that flood damage expanding.  That's it then."

They returned to the conference center and discussed ways of escape, but came up with nothing new.  They didn't want to feel like they were completely wasting their time, however.  They decided to give Utopia one more search.  Kensington tried to make light of the situation to keep their spirits up.  "Maybe we can find something decent to eat.  No more of those 'chicken' sandwiches."  When no one responded, he asked "How many people can ride on a neutral buoyancy elevator that doesn't have enough buoyancy?"  His propositions got more ridiculous as time passed.  Finally, the others began to laugh at some of them.

Finding nothing, they separated and each was lost in their own thoughts.   Kensington wandered the second level, still thinking about what to do.  He found himself in front of the infirmary.  He hoped Pamuya was still asleep. As he stood before the door trying to decide if he should check on her, the door slid open.  He was greeted by the faint, but harsh odor of disinfectant.  Dr. Young and Ryogo were in the room.  "Taylor, what are you doing here?" she asked, slightly surprised.

"Nothing really," he lied.  "I just thought I'd get some coffee to wake myself up.  What about you two?" 

What appeared to be the parts to the automatic scanner were spread out on the floor.  Ryogo was crouching beside her looking at a datapad.  "Well, you know," she said, "I thought I'd try to fix this machine after all.  The kid here is very helpful.  He's good at reading blueprints."  That made sense to Kensington.  At least the young man still had his skills. 

"I wish I could remember how I know how to do this as well as I know how to do it," Ryogo said glumly.  He shook his head in frustration.

"Don't worry about it now," Dr. Young reminded him.  "Wondering about it right now will do you no good.  It will all make sense when your memory returns.  Now, hand me that wrench."  Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she began to unscrew the cover to the device with the wrench he gave her.

"I can see up your skirt when you sit like that," Kensington commented inanely. 

"Well then, cut that out," she ordered.  "This isn't a peep show."

He raised both hands and backed away.  "Alright.  I was just joking.  But maybe we should tackle some of the trickier problems."

"Why's that?" she asked.

"If he gets hit on the head, he might only be good at this stuff for a little bit.  We don't want his brain cells even more jostled."

"Oh please," she said.  "This is not a storybook."

"What's a storybook?" Ryogo asked.  "I have a vague sense that I have heard the word before."

"Well, you're missing about twenty percent of life, right there," Dr. Young said.   A strange conversation had begun and Kensington thought it was a good time to escape it.  He turned his back to leave and Dr. Young asked him to wait.  She rose and came to stand in front of him.  "Didn't you come in to check on Pamuya?  She's sleeping in that bed over there."  She pointed to one of the beds on the far wall.  "She isn't conscious yet and of course she can't move her body.  She really just needs to rest."  Dr. Young's expression hardened as she spoke slowly.   "It's not that I'm so sure of myself, but… I've done my very best for her.  I can't guarantee that she will, but I want her to get better."

"I know," he said.  "I'm really grateful for what you have done."  He looked her straight in the eyes.  "If you hadn't done it, she wouldn't be alive even now."

"But we still don't know if she will really recover," Dr. Young said weakly.

"You worry too much.  Don't you trust yourself?"

"No," she said simply.  "I'm not a trained doctor.

"Pamuya won't give up so easily," Kensington assured her.  "She'll pull through it.  She'll be just like she was before in no time and giving me a hard time as usual."

She smiled.  "I guess so.  Thanks."

"Back to the scanner, then," he said, "and I'll go check on her."  Medea plopped back down and she and Ryogo began grappling with the now coverless scanner. 

Pamuya was stretched out peacefully on the bed.  A bag filled with a yellow liquid dripped down a clear tube to a needle in her arm.  He was glad to see she didn't require a respirator.  Then he wondered if the infirmary even had a respirator.  Thankfully she didn't look like she was in any pain.  She was sleeping so serenely, he could almost believe she would recover quickly.  He remembered how she dragged him through the aquarium.  How tough she was, so much stamina. 

She lay under a white blanket.  Her right foot was completely covered by a brace and bandages.  He couldn't tell what kind of condition it was in.  He realized that the smell of antiseptic he had noticed when he came into the room was still harsh and strong around the bed.  He looked down at the floor and it was as if the tiles were blurring, changing color.  It was the color of her blood.  It was the raw, brutal traces of the surgery.  He gently squeezed her hand, which was peeping out from under the blanket.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.  He blamed himself for what had happened to her.  If she didn't make it, it wasn't the kind of thing made better by an apology.  Even if she did recover,  what would he say to her?  It would only be natural for her to hate him.  "…so sorry."  He repeated it to her over and over, even if she couldn't answer.

"Taylor?"  There was a voice behind him.  It was Heaven.  He let go of Pamuya's hand and whirled around.  "It is unlikely that she will wake up for a while.  The anesthetic is still in effect.  It is probably best to leave her alone right now. "

"I suppose you're right," he agreed. 

Changing the subject, she asked, "Are you free right now?  If it is alright, I would like to talk to you about something."

"What about?"

"Well, you see," she dithered.  "It's um, a, a secret."  She laughed a little, almost self-consciously.  She wanted to keep something secret?  He was a little shocked.  "This room is a little crowded.  Why don't we go outside?"

He looked back at Pamuya. "Actually, I'd like to stay here a little bit longer, if you don't mind."  He couldn't help but making a joke. "It's not often you get to see Pamuya being so still and docile.  I am wondering about this big secret, though.  Can't we talk back here?"

"I can't talk to you back here because it's confidential."

He looked down at the bed again.  "Alright… let's see."

"No, stay," she said.  "It's not that big of a deal.  We can discuss it later.  If you'll excuse me, then."  With a smile on her face, she turned and left.

He turned his attention again to Pamuya's sleeping face.  She didn't say anything.  It was normal for her not to talk about herself.  But now she wasn't saying anything at all.  He wanted to hear something. As soon as possible.  Anything.  He didn't care.  He just wanted to hear her voice again.  He began to believe he could bear her harshest, most cutting words. 

There was a sound.  He turned his head, sure he had been mistaken.  The lift to the decompression chamber was moving on its own.  He ran over and peered into the square hole where it had been.  It had gone down and was stopped.  He pushed the button to call it up and jumped in as soon as it arrived.  He went down to the decompression floor.  No one was in the chamber. 

He wondered if the lift was malfunctioning.  He reached out to push the button to take him back up.  At that moment, something crossed the path of his vision.  There was the faint sound of tiny footsteps moving away.  They were running through the emergency corridor.  He entered the corridor and followed the sounds.  They didn't sound quite like human footsteps.   Whatever was making the faint noises seemed to be something smaller, much smaller.  It was running with quite some momentum, sometimes even crashing into walls.  It was in a desperate hurry.  He decided it was an animal of some kind.  It bothered him that it had apparently run out of the infirmary. 

The footsteps turned off the main corridor and into a dead end.  Despite there being nowhere for it to go, somehow he lost it.  Perhaps, he thought, it had fallen down a stairway or climbed into a duct and jumped down a floor.  He decided he had seen something like a rat.  A rat didn't seem such an odd creature for such a large place.  He sighed, yelled at himself for chasing after a stupid rat, and retraced his steps. 

When he got back to the decompression chamber, he noticed for the first time, that the bed was looking dirty.  He wondered who had eaten there.  There were small breadcrumbs on the bed.  When he got back to the infirmary, he asked Dr. Young.  She and Ryogo were still in the middle of their repair efforts.  "Do you know who was eating bread in the decompression chamber?"

She frowned and turned the hand holding a screwdriver at him.  "I don't know."  Ryogo didn't know either.  Insulation tape was wrapped around his fingers.   "Taylor, are you sure it wasn't you?" she asked, teasing him.

He shook his head.  "Why would it be me if I'm the one asking about it?  It doesn't really matter who it was, but we should be a little more careful about stuff like that.  I think I saw a rat in here just a moment ago.  If we leave food lying about, it might get eaten."

"Ah," she agreed.  "In that case, we should be more careful.  There is plenty of food in that kiosk, but it would be awful if it was broken into.  Do you think we should try and catch the rat?"

Kensington shook his head.  "I don't think we need to go that far."

She turned to Ryogo, suddenly enthusiastic.  "You don't happen to know how to make a rat trap, do you?" 

"Who knows?"  He laughed and shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't know if I know or not."

Having found no other food elsewhere, they met again for chicken sandwiches.  "Can't you fix anything else?" Ryogo asked him.

"I can't do anything about that," Kensington explained.  "It's all we have here.  I cooked the only sausages I could find this morning."

Ryogo stared at his half-eaten sandwich disinterestedly.  He didn't look like he wanted to finish it.  "Eat up," Dr. Young ordered.  "We walked all over looking for something else to eat, but it was no use.  The food that was washed into the corridors during the flooding is almost all spoiled.  But that's okay because we have more stuff to make chicken sandwiches than you can imagine!"

"I guess that's true," he agreed reluctantly and tore off another bite. 

"To survive," she explained, "it's crucial that you have something you can eat."

"I think he's gotten the picture," Kensington observed as Ryogo continued to eat.  "It looks like we've got a real survivor on our hands."

"That's right," Dr. Young agreed.  "Survival's a hobby of mine.  Sometimes I go into the mountains alone.  I carve my own path.  Sometimes I even get a bit lost."

"Training in some ancient martial art on the sly?" Kensington asked.

She put a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes.  "Why do you have to get like that?"

"Yeah, out fighting the black bears under the winter moon," he teased.

She shook her head, but continued the game.  "Nope.  I hunt out hot springs that nobody knows about.  Yes, deep in the mountains where nobody else has ever been… that is this girl's idea of romantic."  She wriggled, as if intoxicated by the image.

"So, you were soaking in the hot springs with a bear."

"Would you stop it about bears already?" she asked, exasperated.

"So, despite appearances, you really are wild at heart."

She drew herself up in an exaggerated fashion.  "What might you be suggesting? Heh, heh, heh."

"That's right, you did say you stitched your own finger up earlier.  I suppose that was also while you were out searching for hot springs?"

"Yeah.  I am an archaeologist, after all.  But that was just a surface scratch and I only needed a few stitches. "

"Humph," Kensington snorted.  "Just like I thought.  Bear wrestling."

"Give it up!"  Her face turned red as she exploded.  He grinned and laughed.  With a sigh she turned away from him.  "I can't take this anymore."  She did look fed up and he decided he may have carried the joke a little too far.  Her face clouded over.  He didn't think his teasing had gotten her that down. 

Avoiding his eyes, she muttered, "About Pamuya."  She stopped.  She seemed like she wanted to say something but didn't know what to say.  She started to continue, but they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps splashing toward them through the water.

Medea came running in.  "I'm ready to eat.  All that running around has me starved."  Kensington gave her the last chicken sandwich.   She ate happily and Ryogo stared at her.  "This is divine, isn't it?" she asked the young man.

He agreed half-heartedly.  "I'm getting a little tired of it."  His sandwich was still unfinished. 

She opened her hand and poured some gooey substance from a tube onto his sandwich. "This will make it taste better."

"What is it?" Ryogo asked.

"Sour cream," she said excitedly.  "I think it was supposed to be for salads. I found it in the gift shop."

Ryogo looked at the tube.  "Add some spice to your life," he read aloud.  "Crab flavored cream sauce: mild."

"That could broaden our culinary horizons," Kensington agreed.   Medea doused her own sandwich with the sauce and ate it with gusto.  Ryogo looked at her doubtfully before biting into his own sandwich.   His expression changed to one of delight and he quickly finished eating.

"What are you going to do with Pamuya's sandwich?" Medea asked Kensington.  "I can keep it for her."  Kensington had indeed made her one.  It was being kept in the warmer. 

"Sorry Medea," Dr. Young interrupted.  "Pamuya's still asleep and she won't wake up for a while.  We'll need to let her sleep longer." 

Medea sighed unhappily. "Will she be able to eat it when she wakes up? We can save it for her." 

Kensington glanced at Dr. Young, who nodded.  "Okay, we'll save it."

That satisfied Medea.  "Now we need some exercise," she said.  Ryogo agreed and the two of them hurried off through the shallow water.

After they were gone, Dr. Young quietly told Kensington.  "Pamuya is still sleeping.  I checked on her just before I came here.  I'm not a medical expert or anything so I can't say anything specific about her condition, but she seems to be recuperating.  Satisfactory progress, I think.  Maybe too satisfactory."

Kensington looked at her sharply.  "What do you mean, too satisfactory?"

"I don't know how to put it," she said slowly.  She stopped talking and let her head fall forward. 

Kensington tried to cheer her up.  "If her condition is stable, that's good isn't it?  The operation went well, right?"

"Yeah," Dr. Young reluctantly agreed. 

"Then what is it?" Kensington asked.  "Still worried that you lost your confidence somewhere or something?"

"No.  It's not that."  Then she paused, and continued on more enthusiastically.  "Yes.  That's it."  She lifted her head and he thought she had realized something.  "I may have lost some of my confidence, but I know Pamuya is recovering. Life force is an amazing thing, isn't it?  Humans don't die so easily." She smiled up at him.

The two of them finished cleaning the kiosk and joined Medea and Ryogo.  Kensington found himself looking at the four stone statues that were lined up along one wall.  One of them extended a hand that pointed toward the south.  Another reached east.  Yet another looked to the heavens while reaching a hand upward.  The remaining figure had both hands pressed to its chest and eyes closed.  He wondered if there were some kind of meaning to them.  He asked Dr. Young, but she shook her head negatively.  Medea and Ryogo were in and out among the figures as they burned off some excess energy. 

"Where did Heaven go?" Dr. Young asked suddenly.  Kensington didn't know.  She had vanished when he started cooking.  "She's probably in the control room," Dr. Young suggested.  "It only happens every once in a while, but she sometimes dives into NeVAEH's main console and doesn't come out for a while.  It seems like she gets pretty caught up in her work."

He wondered if that was all it was.  Dr. Young left to check it out.  Kensington yawned, stretched, and went over to watch Ryogo and Medea.  It almost seemed like they were playing tag without caring who was it.  Without appearing to get bored, they kept running around in the same place.  Kensington, however, got restless watching them.  He didn't feel like asking to join in and let his eyes roam around the room.

He found Heaven standing next to a flower bed, having suddenly appeared there after her unexplained absence.  "I've been here a while," she said.  "I've been looking at the flowers."  Three different types of flowers were planted in the bed together.

"They don't seem to be doing very well," Kensington observed.

"Nobody's watered them for the past several days," she said.  The soil was dry and its surface was cracked.  The flowers had wilted and the plants were beginning to dry up.  She bent over them.  "Life is sure a strange phenomenon. A bud sprouts from a seed, a flower blossoms, reproduces, a seed matures and returns to the earth.  From that seed comes another bud, another flower which reproduces, a new seed which in turn returns to the earth.  And on and on just like that. What is the purpose of life?  Why do flowers bloom?"

He stared at her, unable to reply.  Why, indeed, did flowers bloom? he asked himself. 

"Whatever the reason or purpose," she continued, "I think life is a wonderful thing.  When I see a flower struggling to exist, growing from a crack in concrete, I have a strange and wonderful feeling.  Flowers are always striving desperately to live. Even in an environment such as this: in the depths of the ocean, without enough light or carbon dioxide, even in such parched and cracked soil.  They never think about giving up, but just struggle courageously to live.  Doesn't it inspire you? Or, maybe not.  Maybe it's no use contemplating the meaning or purpose of flowers." 

She glanced up at the ceiling.  He looked up also.  A shrill siren rang out loudly.  Tiny sensors hidden in openings in the ceiling were moving wildly.  Once again he heard the sound of flowing water from somewhere.  "It can't be another flood!" he shouted in alarm.

Water rained down from the ceiling.  The drops poured down upon them mercilessly.  Soon after, they were suffused in a heavy mist.  Heaven's appearance changed to that of a rainbow.  "What in the world?" he exclaimed.  "What's going on?"

A smile hovered about her mouth.  He looked up again at the ceiling.  He couldn't see much through the fine mist.  Drops of water were everywhere.  Then it hit him.  "Oh, it's the sprinklers."  Heaven nodded without speaking.  He cupped his hands and gathered some water in them and sipped at it, both tasting and testing it in his mouth.  It was neither fire-extinguishing liquid nor seawater.  "Filtered water," he observed. 

"Yes," she agreed.  "This complex uses the purist possible water."

"So it's for watering these flowers."  She gave a small grin and laughed, but didn't answer him. 

Dr. Young joined them soon after.  "What's going on?  I heard the alarm."  Ryogo and Medea had come up too.  "You're drenched!  Don't tell me it's another flood."

"No, no, no," Kensington explained.  "Don't worry.  There's nothing to worry about.  Let me explain."  The water stopped.  Heaven smiled and gazed at the flowerbed. 

"You didn't decide to pull another silly prank on us, did you?" Dr. Young asked.

It was Kensington's turn to smile.  He wanted to preserve Heaven's moment of intimacy.   "Something like that.  I saw a button on the wall and decided to see what it did, so I pushed it.

Dr. Young turned her head away and contain laughter.  "Taylor!" She balled a fist and swung it in his general direction.  "You're not a kid.  Who broke the group rules yesterday?  What are you thinking?"  She launched into a sermon but he didn't pay attention to her words.  He was gazing in wonder at the flowers.  The previously wilted and drooping flowers had, in such a short time, become full of life and seemed to be dancing about.

[Hstaphath_XC]

Nice!!!  I've spent some time on occasion contemplating the flowers myself.   

[kadh2000]

Wait 'til the sequel.  Yeah, sometimes you just have to stop and smell the roses.

Kadh, who really loves the international floral show.

[Andromeda]

More!

[kadh2000]

I just realized I didn't do any editing for the last two chapters.  The next one will take a little longer.

[kadh2000]

Lightly edited.  Some of the dialog here gets repeated much later in the story, being said by different characters.  It's a) amusing and b) intentional.

CHAPTER 10: FAITH

Midnight snuck up on Kensington.  Everyone else was asleep in the conference room.  Some were snoring.  Their situation wasn't getting any better but at least it wasn't getting any worse.  It was better that they were able to sleep to prepare for what might come.   If only he could sleep.  He felt wide awake and alert.  He wondered how he could be so tired yet still awake.

His mind was racing.  He decided to take a walk to help him relax.  He stepped out of the conference room and into the water, which was colder than usual.  Now he was even more awake, but he slogged down the corridor, his steps slowed by his heavily soaked shoes.  Only the sound of his wet footsteps echoed through the night.    Nobody had come to get them, he thought, but couldn't allow that to weigh him down.   They had survived so far, were still alive, and would stay alive for the foreseeable future.   He believed that anyone who had made it this long would survive. 

He nodded to himself and turned into another corridor and came to a dead end.  It was a pressure door, sealed with a keypad lock.  There was writing on the door, but he couldn't read it.   He turned back into the main corridor and ran into Heaven.  "Oh,good.   There you are, Taylor.  I was looking for you."  He didn't answer, still wrapped in his thoughts.  "What's wrong?" she asked.  "Hello?"

"Oh, Heaven," he said, finally noticing her.  "You surprised me."  She had appeared in the corridor so that they were face-to-face.   They were so close it seemed like their noses overlapped.  He took three quick steps backward.  His heart was pounding from the shock.

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I didn't mean to get so close to you."  Her cheeks turned a soft red.  "Did I look strange?"

"No," he replied.  "You're beautiful, as always."

"Oh, thank you.  I'm just a little embarrassed."  He wondered if he had blurted out something that offended her.  She had smiled, however, so he decided it was alright.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. 

"Anyway," she continued and her expression became serious, "everyone else is still asleep so I haven't told them yet.  Pamuya was tossing and turning in bed a little while ago so I dispatched the medical wagon to keep her still.  I was surprised.  She was seriously hurt and still…"

"Shouldn't she be waking up soon?" he asked, interrupting her.

"Yes, I think she will soon regain consciousness."

"She shouldn't be tossing and turning like that," he agreed.  "That might reopen her wounds."

"That's why…" Heaven began, but he interrupted her again.

"We can't let that happen.  I'll go check on her."  He hurried off down the corridor, leaving Heaven standing there.  He flew up the stairs and sprinted through the corridors until he arrived in front of the infirmary on the second floor.  He poked the button to open the door, but it seemed to take forever.  Slowly and quietly it opened. 

Pamuya was still lying on a bed in the back of the room.  He walked slowly over to her and sat down on the bed next to hers. He could hear a computer at the other end of the room and suspected it was collecting data on her condition.  He was disappointed that she was still unconscious.  She appeared not to have moved at all and wondered if she had really been turning in her sleep.  As he watched, her fingers began to twitch and her eyes opened. 

He wondered suddenly what he should do or say.  He didn't know where to begin.  She awoke before he decided and lifted one arm from her side and laid it across her chest.  "Uh, good morning," he said.  His mind had gone blank.

"What time is it?" she whispered. 

"I'm not sure.  Sometime after midnight."

"Oh."  She appeared to move weakly underneath the blanket. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"That's a stupid question."

"I'm just asking," he replied.  "Tell me how you're feeling."

"Awful," she answered.  "My whole body hurts.  I feel terrible."  She lifted her hand up to her face, opening and closing it slowly.  She didn't seem able to move much.

"How's the injury?  Does it hurt much?  You may still be a bit under anesthesia."

"Injury?" she asked, confused.  "Anesthesia?"

"You didn't forget what happened yesterday, did you?" he asked, worried.

Her eyes wandered around the room.  To the ceiling, the sheets, the cast on her leg.  "Oh, right.  I remember. I…" She started to rise, but noticing the IV cord snaking up her arm, she frowned. 

She was alive!  The thought raced through him.  She was injured yes, but breathing.  Her life had been saved and for that he was grateful.  But it was his fault.  He was the one who had caused her injury.  "I'm sorry," he said hesitantly.  He wanted to tell her how he felt. 

"Why are you apologizing?" She cut him off.

"It was my fault you were injured," he explained.  "Because I was careless you ended up getting hurt.  It was my fault.  That's why I'm sorry.  What's more, you protected Medea.  You made sure she didn't get hurt.  I don't know how to thank you."  He lowered his head. 

Her face soured.  She glared at him.  "Don't misunderstand! I was injured, but it wasn't because I sacrificed myself for Medea's safety."  She sighed heavily.   "It's just that, it's just that I wanted to die."

"What?" he asked sharply and raised his head.

"Why did you have to save me? If you left me alone I could have finally died."

"What?" he repeated, dumbfounded.  He jumped up from the bed, shaking his fist furiously.  "What the hell did you just say?  You!  What do you mean you could have finally died?"

"That's what I said, isn't it? I… I wanted to die." She gazed at him, narrowing her eyes, and became very quiet.

He looked back.  He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn't joking.  Because of that he couldn't forgive her.  He slammed his fists on the bed violently.  "Pamuya, you stupid little!  How dare you say that so lightly?"  He looked straight at her and screamed.   "When you die, it's game over.  Do you understand that?  Have you forgotten about us and what we're facing here?"  Now it was his turn to glare at her.  She hadn't actually done something wrong, but he couldn't forgive her for saying that.

She lay back in the bed and snorted.  "You don't understand, Taylor.  My life is a nightmare.  This universe is littered with ugliness."

"Cut your poetic garbage," he overrode her.  Again he pummeled the bed with his fists.  "Life is the most important thing in the universe.  It's a miracle!" 

"You're wrong," she said bitterly.  "This is no miracle.  In this ever expanding universe, continuing infinitely, this phenomenon called life is no miracle.  It's unnatural and it's an accident that we awoke in this disgusting world."

"Wrong."  He couldn't listen to her.  "You are wrong, Pamuya."  He hesitated for a moment.  "You are unbelievably wrong."

"Where am I wrong?" she challenged him.  "Tell me where I'm mistaken."  All emotion left her face.  She spoke plainly and precisely.  "Life is just a cluster of empty desires. We build our lives on the corpses of others.  We kill cows, pigs, birds, fish and plants and if we don't, we die.  Our appetites are whetted by the slaughtering of others.  Our desire for sleep only proves our laziness.  Our sexual desires are expressed through obscenity and sin.  All the things that keep us alive, the things that drive us, are filthy.  We can't live without them. There is no such thing as a life of purity.  Ultimately, from the moment we are born, we are already corrupted."

"And that is why you want to die?"

"Yes."

He became quiet, contemplating what she had said.  Then he started laughing.  "I thought you were smarter than that, but I guess I overrated you.  You have a point, and I think you are partially right.  I'll admit it.  In order for us to live, it's true that we have committed some atrocities.  Sometimes people do terrible, despicable things.  Do you really think that just living is a sin?  That's the result of arrogant values.  You don't really think it's a crime for a bird to snatch fruit from a tree, do you?  Does a tiger feel guilt for eating its prey?  Is it really a terrible thing to join together and create new life?  Everything that is necessary to continue living is not only right, but I believe it is sacred.  The birds, the tigers, the ants, even the grass all work so hard to live.  It's a beautiful thing.  To love the lives of others is just as important as loving yourself.  You have to realize that, don’t you?"

She looked at him and frowned.  "It's ridiculous."

"Stop pretending to be so cold." He resisted the urge to kick her bed over.  "Tell me, why did you protect Medea?  Why did you sacrifice yourself to save Medea? I don't know exactly what happened there, but I do know that you are avoiding the truth. You are desperately trying to deny life.  Everyone's desires are born out of life.  You only want to believe they are wrong to prove your selfish point.  You are holding on obstinately, living while all you want to do is die.  Your logic is completely backwards.  Life should be unconditionally embraced.  Everyone lives for the sake of living.  By definition living beings must have life.  If love is beautiful, then so is life."

"You don't understand a thing." 

"Yeah," he agreed.  "I don't understand. We've known each other for what?  Just three days.  I don't know a THING about you, but I know for certain that what I'm saying is one hundred percent true.  So don't say that you want to die." 

I won't let you say it, the thought entered his mind.  He bit his lip as he stared at her.  For once he had told her exactly how he felt with no holding back or regrets.  I don't want you to say it anymore, he thought again. I don't even want to have to say those things.  You survived for a reason, Pamuya.  Don't say that you want to throw that away.

She just looked back at him and sighed again.  The tension slipped from her shoulders.  Her eyes lit up.  "Yes, I get it."

Had he finally gotten through to her?  He couldn't help but smile.  A matching smile appeared on her lips.  "I understand perfectly," she muttered.  "You are a total hypocrite."  He turned and shuffled out of the room without answering.

"What happened?" Heaven asked him.  "Where's Pamuya?"  She met him just outside the door to the infirmary, with a worried expression on her face. 

"She's alive," he muttered, "but she wishes she were dead."

"Did she really tell you that?" Heaven asked, alarmed. 

He nodded.  "It's true.  She didn't get what she wanted: death."

"But you don't have to…" she began, her voice quivering.

"I should have never even helped save her," he said.

"Stop that!" she ordered.  "You should not say things like that.  That is awful.  I am so disappointed in you."

"I'm sorry," he said.  "Now you're upset too.  I'm not myself right now.  I'm heading back to bed, even though I know I can't sleep."  He raised his hand weakly and parted with her.  She stood by the entrance to the infirmary, frozen, without movement. 

He did sleep and found it difficult to awaken.  It made him irritated.  Why he had such difficulty falling asleep was beyond him.  He wondered if he were focusing too much on not being able to sleep.  It was a vicious cycle.  He eventually managed to get up, groggy but not so sleepy that it would drive him crazy.  He opened and closed his hand.  His body seemed in good shape.  He shook his head a little and slapped his cheeks.  He breathed in a deep rush of cold air, breathed it out, and gradually cleared his head.  Mustering his strength, he hopped out of bed. He put the voice alternator back in his ears. 

He called out something about cooking breakfast for the others, but no one answered.  When he looked around, no one was there.  The conference room was empty.  He had slept for nearly seven hours.  He hurried to the food kiosk and found Dr. Young standing outside of it.  "You're late."  The others were waiting.  "You're a total mess."  Her cheeks seemed swollen. 

"Sorry," he muttered.

"We've been waiting forever," she complained.  "I'm starving.  If my belly actually sticks to my spine, I'm holding you personally responsible.  Dear Lord, remember me when I waste away to nothing and am blown by the wind across the ocean. "

It was just the thing he needed.  "You're worried about being blown away by the wind?  I think it'd probably take a hurricane to carry you off."

"You're a real gentleman, captain," she replied, and her shoulder sagged. 

"I can't believe you all waited for me before eating," he said, changing the subject. 

The others looked at each other with a mix of conflicting expressions.  Their voices overlapped as they explained.    "We did try.  We tried a little too hard."

He gave them a quizzical look and went inside the kitchen.  The aroma was impossibly delicious.  Whatever it was they had cooked was a blackened, charred fish of some sort.  They had covered it with some unknown multicolored liquid.  Vegetables were diced beside it on the counter. 

"We divided up the work," Medea said laughing.  "You should try some too."

"You can actually eat this?" he asked, staring at the display. 

"Yup.  Of course, we don't know if it will actually taste good."  She laughed again.  "So don't be critical and let's eat."  He decided, after finishing his share, that there were a number of good reasons why he was in charge of cooking.

After eating, they trooped over to the rest area near the statues.  Kensington's stomach was still growling, or complaining, he wasn't sure which.  Together they had done the clean up from the unusual meal.  It had taken a while for the four of them to do the job.  "I gave Pamuya her sandwich from yesterday, and some we made earlier." Medea said.   

Whether Pamuya would actually eat it was another story.  "Was she eating alright?"

"Yes, she said she was really hungry.  I think she ate three sandwiches."

He grunted.  "I guess she's gotten well enough to eat, then."

"She's getting better pretty fast," Medea agreed.

He thought about her.  The night before she had said she wanted to die.  At least her body was determined to live.  If she kept that trend up, he thought she would continue to get well and there would be no more problems.  That, he realized, was a contradiction.  'All the things that keep us alive, the things that drive, us,' she had said, 'are filthy.  There is no such thing as a life of purity.'  The appetites necessary to sustain life were evil in her mind.  He asked himself how she could devour three sandwiches without even flinching.  There was something strange going on with her again. 

The word hypocrite, which she had used on him, came to mind.  "Who's the hypocrite now, Pamuya?" he asked aloud.  "What were you thinking?"  He couldn't help but feel resentment rising in his chest.

"What's the matter, Taylor?" Medea asked him.  "Your face is rather scary."

"Ah, it's nothing," he said looking up.  He didn't want to infect the others with his sullen mood.  He didn't want to be thinking about Pamuya anymore.    Waving one hand, he tried to sweep away his mood.

"Good," she said, relieved.  "I was afraid that breakfast wasn't sitting well."

"You guys didn't put something in there that would make me sick, did you?" he teased her. 

She grinned evilly.  "Do you really want to know?  You won't be sorry you ate them, if we did, right?"

He looked at her in shock.  She was getting back at him.  He raised his hands.  "No, stop!  Don't tell me.  I don't want to know."  Imagining the possibilities made his stomach hurt.  He shook it off and trotted over to the other two, who were wondering where Heaven was.

"She's looking again to see if she can find a clue that would help us escape," Dr. Young said.  "From what she said, I believe the sensors on the third floor are working a little better now."

Kensington cut in.  "Did you see her then?"

"Yes," Dr. Young replied.  "She was here for a few minutes just before you arrived."

"Did she say anything else?" he asked.  "Did she seem somehow different?"

"No.  Same as always.  Why?  Did you do something to her?"

"No, nothing!" he said defensively. 

"You're acting pretty suspicious," she said accusingly.  "Why did you ask that?  Not that I'm the type to hound you with questions.  So, what's the story my dear captain?"  She pretended to hold a microphone to his face.  "Can you tell me how you're feeling right now?"

He shook his head.  "I don't care what happens.  I'm not talking to you." 

She withdrew her invisible microphone.  "That does remind me," she said.  "You sneaked out of the room in the middle of the night.  That's relevant circumstantial evidence.  Were you sleepwalking?  It sounded like you ran up the stairs.  What do you have to say for yourself, captain?"

All of their eyes were now fixed on him.  Bathed in their attention, there was nowhere for him to escape.  He sighed.  "All right, I'll confess.  I went to see Pamuya.  I was going to take a walk when Heaven told me that Pamuya had woken up.  I didn't want her to get up and hurt herself so I went over to the infirmary. "

"This morning Heaven did say that she had woken up last night," Dr. Young said, agreeing with him.  "Sorry for giving you a hard time.  You should have told us too, last night."

"You're right," he agreed.  "I wasn't thinking. But you all did seem pretty dead to the world.  I didn't figure it would be any good to try to wake you all up."  No one seemed inclined to question him further. 

The excess energy slowly drained out of Kensington.  He wasn't tense, but he wasn't relaxed either.  He sat and wondered if he were just tired. He had been pondering all sorts of things when he couldn't sleep the past night.  Maybe he had hurt Heaven's feelings.  She always smiled and said she didn't mind, but he asked himself what he would say when he saw her.

He was jolted back to alertness and was surprised to hear Dr. Young saying, "… this is why so many Greek myths have been handed down to us."  She was standing in the center of the room, apparently giving a lecture.   The other two were sitting on the benches, listening attentively.  He wandered over and joined them.

"That statue over there is really a lovely piece," she said, pointing at the statue in the corner.   "The beautiful statue and the sculptor who loved her.  I'll tell you their story."  She gave a melodramatic cough.  Then she turned back to the group and began gesturing. 

"Once upon a time, in a place called Cyprus, there was a young sculptor.  His name was Pygmalion.  He's been called the King of Cyprus in some stories.  In these myths they tend to call anyone a king or a god so we'll ignore that for a bit. 

"Anyway, there was an excellent sculptor named Pygmalion. His statues were incredible.  They were so vital and full of life, they looked as though they might come to life at any moment.  Pygmalion couldn't seem to get interested in ladies.  The people around him wondered why a brilliant sculptor like him couldn't land a wife.  But he seemed to only care about making his statues. 

"Then one day he finished the nude sculpture of a woman.  It was a wonderful piece, absolutely charming, and even he himself thought it might be his ultimate masterpiece.  As he looked on her beautiful, almost living face, he realized that she was naked and became embarrassed.  He brought clothes for her and dressed her.  When it got dark, he was so besotted with her he brought her food to eat, talked to her, and even slept next to her. 

"It was the first time he had ever experienced true love.  Love for the statue he himself had created.  He poured all the love that he had into her.  He believed that one day she would speak to him.  In the meantime he neglected his work.  He forgot to eat and sleep and Pygmalion began to waste away. 

"People began to worry that he might die, so they prayed to the gods.  Pygmalion was agonizing as well.  He was so sad to see her unable to speak, or eat, or sleep.  He thought that when he became old and went to heaven she would have to continue standing there just waiting to decay.  To him it was unthinkable.  If he couldn't be bound to her, it would be better if he threw himself off a cliff.  If only she was a real woman with blood running through her veins. 

"It went on something like that until his prayers reached Aphrodite, the goddess of love.  Aphrodite came down to him and told him to kiss his beloved statue.  When he gently kissed her, her skin flushed pink, her eyes opened, and she turned into a living woman.  A woman as beautiful as the statue had been.  So they married, and even had children.  He kept making even more beautiful statues for temples around the world, and they lived happily ever after."

Finally finished with her long story, Dr. Young pinched her skirt and curtsied.  The other two applauded her.  "That was pretty interesting," Ryogo told her.  As for Kensington, he watched silently.  It was a pretty scholarly talk, but he kept quiet and watched the others faces. 

With her finger extended in front of her face, Dr. Young spoke confidently.  "The story of Pygmalion shows us that if you hope and ask and persevere, your wishes will come true.  His longing was answered because he put his heart into his sculpture and then loved her, believing that she would speak to him one day. "

"Now this is a little different," she went on, "but later a guy named Rosenthal wrote about something called 'The Pygmalion Effect."  Now she was being a professor on a soapbox.  Kensington found himself drawn in.  "It's not quite the same as the placebo effect, but both of them involve believing in something.  So they both have to do with our chances of survival.  Just because the sushi in a display case is made of plastic, doesn't mean it is cheap."

Her talk seemed to have derailed like a nasty train wreck. Kensington had no idea what she meant.   The other two continued to be a rapt audience.   As she continued to hold their attention, his brain started working again. 

[Andromeda]

Heaven's a little awkward.  The line about being embarrassed is oddly placed.  Kensington's still rash as ever.  It's nice to see his ideals and strengths shown though.  It's about time he got a little development.   I still haven't figured Pamuya out.  I'm hoping her background comes sooner or later.  That'll no doubt go a long way to explaining her.  Medea's accusations about the food sound like they should belong to Dr. Young.  So, I've actually noticed the difference between characters.  Yay you.

All in all, a nice chapter that fills out our hero a little more.  Good title for it too. 

[Czar Mohab]

Seriously trying to catch back up on this... I have been reading and enjoying... just not having much time of late to comment in depth.

What the Kadh writes I generally like, so at the very least you should know that someone is reading (albeit slowly) and will read it to the end. If something sticks out I'll comment on it... Otherwise please keep churning out more so when I can finally catch up I'll have a good long read doing so.

Czar "Faith manages," Mohab

[kadh2000]

Good!

This, btw, is the first draft.  I've finished it and am working on a second.  I'll continue to post this first draft until I've got it all here. 

[kadh2000]

The next part was originally two chapters.  It should have been one long one.

CHAPTER 11:  PRINCE CHARMING

When Dr. Young was done, Kensington led them up to the second floor to check on Pamuya.  "I wonder how she's doing," he commented idly as they went up.

"In any case," Dr. Young reminded them, "she still needs rest."

"Well," he countered, "worrying about her won't make her better any faster."

"Heaven would have let us know if anything had happened to her," was her rejoinder, "and NeVEAH's always watching the data from the medical center.  Since we haven't had any news, that means she's probably sleeping peacefully."

"Then there's nothing to worry abouteroon," Medea commented.

"What language is abouteroon?" Kensington asked her.

"Medea-ese!"  He was taken aback and then she continued.  "Whoa, geezer's going swimming in the winter.  Obstinate stubbornness!  There's also abouteroo."  He was glad she was so upbeat.

"We should have brought her flowers," Ryogo said when they stood outside the door.

"Where would we have gotten flowers?" Kensington asked sarcastically.

"Oh, that's right."  At least, Kensington thought, he had remembered on his own. 

He entered the medical center ahead of the others and mustered his most cheerful voice.  "Pamuya?  You alive?  I had to force them, but I dragged everyone up here to see you."

"Don't be mean like that," Dr. Young upbraided him. 

Exchanging stupid banter, they approached the bed.   "I did it on purpose, as a joke," he said.  "You know, joke around, try and cheer her up a little."

"I don't know…" she replied.   

Ryogo, who had passed them, stopped suddenly and pointed toward the bed in the back.  "Pamuya's gone!"  They ran to the bed in shock.  She was gone.  She was really not there.  The bed was completely empty.  The covers were just the way they had been.  The pillow was just the same.  The IV tube and monitors had been torn off and scattered around.

"Why didn't NeVAEH pick this up?" he asked.  "It was monitoring her situation.  What happened?"

"I don't know what happened," Dr. Young replied, averting her eyes from his.  "Look at that!" she exclaimed.  Her eyes had come to rest in the corner of the room.  The medical computer had been unplugged and the monitor had been smashed to pieces.  There had been an electrical short and there was a burning stench around the area.  "Who could have done this?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Kensington agreed.

"Look at this," Medea said, pointing out another problem.  "What's that?"  Under the console there were some bandages and a long skinny case of some sort.  A white, hard case…  "Is this her leg brace?"

Dr. Young knelt down beside it.  "You're right.  It is Pamuya's brace."

"Which means," Kensington said, "she took off her own brace and smashed up the computer.  She got out of bed, smashed the computer, and then left the room."  His thoughts leaped right out of his mouth.  It was hard to believe.

"How can that be?" Medea asked.  "When I brought her the food this morning, she was still in pain in the bed.  Do you think Pamuya really did this?"

"Who else could it be?" Kensington countered.

"Someone kidnapped her?" Ryogo speculated.

"No one's here besides us," Kensington said.

"It's crazy either way," Dr. Young observed.  "How could Pamuya even walk on that leg?  It was a serious injury.  Without better technology, it should take over two months to heal. In fact, in her condition, she shouldn't even be able to get out of bed.  Besides, it's strange that NeVAEH didn't respond even if the computer is broken.  Even if someone had taken her out of here, the sensor on the ceiling should have picked it up."  Saying that, she raised her eyes to the ceiling.  "What in the world?"

"Maybe a spirit took her," Ryogo suggested. 

"Oh please," Dr. Young said.  Pamuya had disappeared.  They were all in shock.  Everyone kept talking though.  "Spirited away?  I don't believe that."  The color drained from her face as she absorbed the enormity of what had happened.  She was holding her chest, looking up at the ceiling, in a cold sweat.

"Calm down, Maryann," Kensington said gently.  "Take deep breaths."  She breathed in and out slowly.  A little color came back to her face.  Kensington relaxed, but still was faced with the question of what to do about the situation.

"Let's ask Heaven," he suggested.  "She ought to know what happened." 

Dr. Young looked up hopefully.  She ran to the panel to call Heaven.  "If NeVAEH hasn't realized it yet, it may mean that Heaven hasn't noticed it either."

"Call her anyway," Kensington ordered.  "It's better than going on a blind search."

"You're right."  After a moment, Heaven's image floated up on the terminal.  "Something terrible has happened," Dr. Young said excitedly.  "Pamuya is missing."

"What?" Heaven reacted in surprise.  "Are you sure?  I thought something had happened to the monitor in the room, but…"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dr. Young interrupted.

"I am sorry," Heaven replied.  "There has been terrible jamming and it… delayed me."

"What kind of jamming?" Kensington asked.  "Electromagnetic interference?"

"How is the room?" Heaven asked, without answering him.  "Is everyone there?"

"Other than Pamuya, we're all here."

"My 'eyes' aren't working," Heaven said.  "I wasted time trying to confirm…"

"We're alright," Dr. Young interrupted her again.  "Can you come right over?"

"Of course, right away."  Heaven disappeared from the monitor and instantly she was standing in front of them.  "Am I in the right place?" she asked.  "Can you see me?"  She looked worried.

"You really can't see us?" Kensington asked.

"It's getting better," she said, "but there's still something wrong.  I can tell approximately where you are standing, but not which way you are facing."  She was talking to a spot right next to him.

"Heaven, Pamuya's not in the infirmary," Dr. Young said.  "Can you search the other rooms?"

"Give me a moment," Heaven responded.  "I will do a bio scan on the entire building."  She put her hands over the terminal and began accessing it immediately.

"Who are you talking to?" Ryogo asked, still by Pamuya's bed.

They left the infirmary.  Heaven was bewildered by the sudden sensor trouble.  It was taking her a few minutes longer than usual to perform the bio scan.  "I wasn't able to see Heaven," Ryogo explained.  "That means the ceiling sensors over the bed, and as far as the lift, aren't operating correctly." Dr. Young nodded in agreement.   "The Pamuya must have left via the emergency corridor."

"At least she was kind enough to leave the candles burning for us," Kensington cracked.  Emergency flares were burning in the elevator.  He was completely shocked.  Did she want to keep them away that badly?

Heaven appeared.  "Sorry to keep you waiting.  I have the results of the bio scan."

"And where has Pamuya hobbled off to?" Kensington asked.  He guessed she couldn't have gone far.  In any case they would find her.  When they did, they would figure everything out.

"A neutral buoyancy elevator has gone down to the third level," Heaven said.  "Pamuya is slowly moving past the isolated sector."

"Can we call it to us?" he asked and she confirmed they could.  "I'll go over there."

"What?" Dr. Young said.  "Hold on Taylor.  Since you can only enter and exit that sector using the neutral buoyancy elevator, if we just wait a while…"

"We can't just let her be," he cut her off.  "What if her injury gets worse?  Besides, I want to hear a good explanation for why she ran off like this."  He left them and hurried off despite their protests.  When he reached the elevator, he called it to the second level.  He sprang in as soon as the door opened.  A moment later it closed and he started going down.

She can't leave without this, so she definitely can't leave until I get there, he thought.  Watch out Pamuya, here I come!  He cracked his knuckles.  She had pushed herself despite her injury and had gone off alone.  Did she really mean to kill herself?  Was she actually trying?  Maybe he should just let her.  But he wanted to give her a piece of his mind first.  He hoped she would stay alive just long enough for him to tell her all he wanted to say.

The door opened.  The stale air of the isolated sector flowed into his lungs.  Next to the elevator he had ridden in, another elevator was still stopped.  An elevator with a hole blasted in it…  He couldn't even smell the stench of acetone anymore.  He walked down the hallway, marshaling his wits. 

He realized there was a room off the left side of the main corridor that he hadn't noticed during the power outage.  Thinking to explore further, he set his foot inside.  A huge creature that reminded him of a whale was stretched out.  He couldn't tell from a glance exactly what the purpose of this room was, other than that it was part of the park.  A whale floating in empty space.  The scene was surreal.  He wondered if there was an explanation written somewhere so he could ask one of the others.  Then he stopped, realizing he didn't have time to waste on it.  After making sure Pamuya wasn't in there, he left through the door on the opposite side of the room.

He quickly reached the generator room, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.  The machinery was giving off a steady, low hum and seemed to be working fine.  At least they didn't have to worry about electricity.  He looked around, but there was no trace of Pamuya. 

The corridor beyond the generator room was blocked off by a closed partition.  That left only one more room: the pipe room.  He supposed it would be called the pressure regulation room or something like that.  The pipes were connected to the boilers and turbines in the generator room.  He remembered Pamuya working there, closing a valve with her tools spread around her.

She was there now, leaning over a pool just like the time before.  However, she didn't have any tools so she wasn't closing off a valve.  Instead, craning her neck, she seemed to be looking over at the other side of the pipes.  He suppressed the urge to yell.  "Pamuya," he called out, pretending to be calm, "what are you doing here?"  He didn't want to lose his temper right off the bat.  She was injured after all.

She stood up slowly and looked his way.  "Are you looking for something?" he asked.

"No, not really," she answered.  She stepped back as if she were keeping watch over him.  He could tell that she was agitated and hadn't expected to see him.  Her gaze didn't fix on anything and her eyes kept flitting to the pipes behind her.

It bothered him.  "What's behind you?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.  "There's nothing behind me."

"Really?"  He tried to angle around so that he could see the pipes behind her.

"Don't come near me," she warned.  "Don't get close."  She changed position so that he couldn't get past her. "Oh!" she said suddenly.  She had taken another step backward and had knocked something off.  Along with the sound of splashing, several screws or nuts fell into the crevice between ducts.  She began looking around.  Favoring her right leg, she slowly turned around.  With her back to him, she looked further into the room.   Then she took a relieved breath.

What was going on? He wondered.  Then, pushing him aside, she tried to head out of the room.  "Move. You're in my way.  Don't bother me."  Dragging her right leg, she tried to leave.

"Wait."  He put his hands on her shoulders but she took them right off. 

"Don't you touch me!"  She glared at him without trying to hide her annoyance.  "I said you were in my way.  Leave me alone.  Why are you following me?"  She spat the words out all at once.

He didn't let up and fired a question right back at her.  "What are you doing here?  Are you looking for something?  Or are you finishing up some repairs?"  When she didn't answer, he asked "You won't answer stupid questions, is that it?"

"What? What are you doing here yourself?"  She answered him with yet another series of questions.  "I'm free to do what I want, where I want."  She was trying to make a wall of words. 

"Sure," he agreed, trying to crack the wall she had built up.  "I came here on my own.  I left the others.  Because I heard that you came here on your own."

"Why would you do that?" she asked softly.

"Because my hurt friend suddenly went missing.  That's why!  Of course I came looking for you."

"Friend?"  Her expression grew severe.  "I didn't ask you to come here and there's no reason for you to be here.  I'm not like the others, so don't treat me like one of your gang."

"Pamuya, cut it out," he snapped and clenched his fist.  Then he shoved it in her face.  He stopped it just in front of her nose.  She didn't even flinch.   "Believe me, I don't want to be friends with someone like you, but we don't have a choice.  We all want to get out of here.  Don't you want to get out of here as soon as possible?  As long as were in the same boat, we're friends.  In some places, people with the same goals are called friends."

"Friends?" she repeated sharply.  "Friends, friends, friends, friends… there you go again just saying that.  That kind of tired hypocritical crap makes me sick."  Her voice stayed completely cool.  There was no place for his raised fist to go.  "And one more thing.  Weren't you listening to me yesterday?  I don't want to escape.  So I'm not your 'friend.'  I don't care where you're from.  Got it? I. Am. Not. Your. Friend. So. Do. Not. Talk. To. Me. Again."

He lowered his hand.  He couldn't say anything.  Giving him a glance, she moved toward the door, dragging her foot.  She was moving awkwardly, still dragging her left foot.  Then he caught himself.  Left foot?  "Wait a second!" he yelled. 

"What?  I said don't talk to me!"  She turned around forcefully.

"Your foot.  Is it alright?  The leg you hurt the other day was your right leg."  Her face stiffened.  Her eyes flickered away.  She averted her gaze.  She stood rock still.  He wondered what was going on.  "Let me see."  He grabbed the hem her skirt and without hesitating yanked it up.

She was too startled to react at first, but then hit him with a brutal slap.  He fell back and she took off running.   The sound of her footfalls grew faint.  Her shadow disappeared down the hallway.  He was left alone, stunned.  She had hammered his cheek.  He felt like he might have missing teeth and a bloody nose.  His brain was rattled, but he didn't feel any pain.  'Compound fracture of the right thighbone.  Injuries requiring forty stitches.'  And she could run a day later? 

He got up slowly and made his way back to the elevator.  Heaven was waiting for him on the second level.  "Your face is swollen," she observed.  She took him back to the infirmary.  There she told him that "Pamuya will return to this floor in a little while.  Try not to get mad at or yell at her.  For a while I think it is best if we let her do as she wants."

"Why?" he asked.

"Don't you think she might be quite nervous right now?  She's thinking about things.  She's pondering all sorts of things in her heart.  Everyone else's words will fall on deaf ears.  She's not able yet to just listen.  Of course you're worried about her injuries, but for a little while, let's leave her alone.  If she is in any serious danger I will let you know right away. So, for just a little while… please, Taylor."  Reluctantly he agreed, nodding assent to her earnest request.  He went slowly back down the stairs to the third level.  His footsteps echoed through the stairwell.  "I don't think it was an accident that she came to be here," Heaven said. 

"Not an accident?"  He looked up in surprise.

"I do not know the details," Heaven answered.  "This is the first time for me to encounter a case like hers.  I don't have any data for this.  It seems to me, though, that she has her reasons for being here.  Reasons that are difficult for her to explain.  Something that is hard for others to understand.  Something that compelled her to act even if it made her injuries worse.  That's what I feel.  Maryann was saying the same thing earlier."

"She was?" Kensington was even more surprised.

"Yes," Heaven said, "that we shouldn't probe.  That, until she was ready to tell us, we shouldn't press for information."

"I see," Kensington said.  Perhaps he had gotten too close to her boundaries.  Boundaries that she didn't want invaded.  Whatever feelings and reasons she didn't want them to know about.  That could have been why he had been warned, harassed, pummeled.  If he thought about it that way, it made more sense.  "Maybe I did come down to hard on her."

[kadh2000]

Several uneventful hours passed.  Kensington wandered Utopia alone, avoiding the others. He didn't run into Pamuya during that time.  Eventually, he decided to have dinner, one he cooked himself. 

Dr. Young, Ryogo, and Medea joined him and moved over to the rest area and let their food digest.  He finished tidying up the kitchen alone.  Certain they were gone, he pulled out the object he had been secretly hiding.  It was time to eat that last sausage.  He enjoyed the different meal and the guilty pleasure.  He hid in the back of the kitchen and devoured it in secret. 

"Ah, there you are, Taylorpion."  Surprised by Medea's voice, he choked on a bite of sausage.  "Are you alright?" she asked in alarm.  He coughed until he could speak.  Blinking and struggling, he was able to swallow the piece of meat.  He swallowed the rest of the sausage in one bite to remove the evidence and struggled t control his breathing.

"Not a word about what you just saw," he told her.

She grinned.  "Oh I see.  You didn't eat your sandwich earlier and were saving it to finish now."

"That's it," he agreed.  "Thanks."  Inside, he silently apologized to her and the others for being selfish. 

"Oh, that reminds me.  Taylorpion, I talked to Heaven.  She said she spoke to Pamuya.  Pamuya went back to the infirmary and Heaven ran into her there.  Pamuya apologized for going crazy and smashing the equipment and she even cleaned it up herself."

Kensington couldn't believe it.  "Pamuya apologized for something?  Anything else?"

"Heaven said she was asking questions. She said Pamuya asked her, 'what do you know about my past.' Heaven said she didn't know anything.  She said that seemed to satisfy Pamuya.  That's a pretty silly question, if you ask me."   

"Yeah." He agreed it was very weird.  "Do you know where Pamuya is now?"  He tried to restrain his sense of urgency.

"I think she's still in the infirmary.  Heaven said she went back to bed."

"I think I'll go and check on her," Kensington said casually. 

Medea looked up at his face, making him uncomfortable.  She laughed quietly.  "You're attracted to her, aren't you?"

He tried to bluster his way out of it.  "You're kidding!  After the way she treats me."

"I wonder," the girl said enigmatically.  "It seems to me like it's written all over your face."

Instinctively he rubbed his face in his hands.  Of course nothing came off.  Medea's smile was bright enough to light up the sun.  He shook his head and went to the infirmary.

Before entering, he stopped and turned on the intercom outside the room.  "Pamuya, can I come in?"  Then he entered.  It was quiet inside again.  The smashed equipment had been tidied up.  "Oh you really are lying in bed.  I don't believe it."

She opened her eyes.  Softly she said, "What?  Could you keep it down?  Am I not supposed to be here or something?"

"No, no.  Not at all!" he said rapidly.  "I was just surprised to see you here."

"Surprised?" she echoed. 

"Yes.  You came back."

"Yes, well, I had to come back from that sector.  There was nowhere to go."

"That's not what I meant," he began.  "Oh, never mind.  Anyway, I'm glad your back."

"Glad?" She kept repeating his words.

"Relieved?" he tried again.

"Oh?"  She looked at him intently.  As she spoke, she lay back down and slowly closed her eyes.  "Keep your voice down, okay?   My head hurts a little.  Noise makes it worse."

"Sorry," he muttered.  "Are you hungry?  Do you want me to make you something?"

After a long pause, she answered, "Yes please."

"Wait right there.  Don't go anywhere.  I'll be right back."  He tried not to make any noise as he left.  As soon as the door closed behind him, Kensington sprinted back to the sandwich kiosk.  He turned it back on and heated her up a 'chicken' piece.  He hurried, but worked carefully. When it was ready, he sprinted back to the infirmary. He had been away less than ten minutes.

"Sorry I took so long," he called out softly as he approached her bed.  "I took more trouble with this than usual.  It's a masterpiece.  Eat it before it gets cold."  There was no answer and he wondered if she was asleep.  "Pamuya!  Here's your food.  A hot delicious sandwich.  Get it while it's hot!"  There was still no response.  He tried yelling.  "Say something!"

The bed was empty.  It was still slightly warm.  "She's gone," he screamed to no one.  "I told her not to move."  Kensington let out a deep sigh and held his head in his hands.  He resisted the urge to throw the sandwich against the wall.  "Where on earth did that stupid girl run off to?" 

He stamped his foot in rage and was surprised to feel something crunch under his boot.  He lifted his foot and looked down.  Whatever it was had been pulverized.  The pieces smelled faintly.  He bent down and spread them out in his hand.  It looked like pieces of nuts.  Glancing underneath the bed, he found a rolled up sheet.  He pulled it out and found a bag, which had probably contained the nuts, and an empty box.  They looked like souvenirs bought at some shop.  He wondered where these things had been when they last searched the room.  Pamuya must have brought them from the ship and was perhaps eating them in secret. 

Kensington thought about it, but that explanation didn't seem right.  Looking at the nuts more carefully, he realized they hadn't been crushed by him stepping on them.  There was a large amount of powder under the bed.  Someone had deliberately crushed the nuts.  Looking at the box again, he saw that a section of the lid had been torn off.  Inside the box was filled with cotton and there was a soft hollow in the center.  It looked like the nest of some small animal.  He recalled the rat he had seen running out of the infirmary.  Pamuya must have been keeping the creature.  In that case, she must have gone looking for her pet. 

All he had to do was figure out where.  He tried to contact Heaven from the infirmary terminal, but she didn't appear.  He displayed the map on the monitor, but it didn’t have any life signs on it.  He decided to seek out a bigger terminal and went to the security office.

Somebody was already there.  Pamuya was sitting in a chair in front of the console.  She was engrossed in something and didn't notice him come in.  She was doing something at the console.  An enlarged sector was displayed on the screen.  A point of light was moving across the enlarged section of the map.  He assumed it indicated a sign of life.  She tapped a key and a remote camera zoomed in on the sector displayed on the map.  A living creature was displayed on the monitor.  Pamuya sighed with relief.

"A rat." Kensington said.  At the sound of his whisper, Pamuya swung around.  She blinked.  "It's a rat, isn't it?"  A grey rat was running along a pipe.  The map showed the isolated sector of the third floor.  "Is that rat what you're looking for?"

"Of, of course not," she said feebly.  She was obviously flustered.

"I looked under the bed and saw your box," he explained.  "There were nuts everywhere."  She looked away.  "You don't have to answer if you don't want to.  I wonder how that dirty rodent got in here."

"Dirty rodent?"  She came suddenly to life.  Her voice was hysterical. 

Kensington was a little taken aback.  "It's not a rat?"

"It's a Djungarian hamster.  I think."

"So that's what it is," Kensington said.  "A Djungarian hamster.  You're pretty knowledgeable."

"Everybody knows what they're called," she retorted.  Her chest puffed out slightly.

"So you're looking for that rat?"

"No!  I told you it's not a rat."

"Sorry," he quickly apologized.  "You're looking for that hamster."  She seemed to nod her head reluctantly.  The movement was so small he wasn't sure she had even made it. 

She looked back at the monitor.  "He probably traveled through some pipe," she said.  "Either the pipes with the electric cables or the power sockets."  Her finger traced the map.  Nobody could walk to where the hamster was.  The top right of the screen showed an area under water.  It seemed there was one room still dry.  It was even further away than the isolated area on the third floor.  It wasn't clear on the map but there was one emergency corridor in that sector.

Looking at it, Kensington committed the map to memory.  "I guess I'll just have to go."  He grabbed a plastic bag and headed for the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"Where do I think I'm going?  I'm going to go get him."

"Who?" she asked.

"Your hamster."

"There's no way you'll make it.  There's a section underwater between here and there.  No human could fit through the pipe."

Kensington ignored her and left the security office.  He started off toward the area he had memorized on the map. 

"Wait!"  Pamuya called after him.  She caught up with him and grabbed his arm.

"What now?  If I don't get going, Mr. Hamster is going to move to another place."

"How do you plan to get in there?"

"How else?  Swim!"

Her hand relaxed.  Still in her grip, Kensington started moving again.  She came with him.  "Wait! Are you out of your mind?" she asked.

"I'm going through with this," he said resolutely.

"That's the reason I think you're stupid," she said.  "If you open the floodgates, you'll be overwhelmed by seawater.  The pressure is six atmospheres."

"You don't have to worry about that," he said, enjoying that he held the mystery now.  "The hamster is in an area directly connected to the flooded emergency corridor.  The water in that area is at one atmosphere.  The flood gates on either end of the corridor are firmly shut.  That corridor is completely isolated from the outside seawater.  The entrance on the other side is open.  If I use the flooded corridor, I can get into that room.  Why don't you go back and check the map?"

"But," she started to protest, "how far do you think it is to get to that area?"

"153 feet," he answered.  "I checked the distance."

"153 feet is a long way underwater."

"It'll be alright," he assured her.  "I've swum to the end and back of a 25 meter pool underwater."  He didn't admit he had only done it once and had kicked off from the end of the pool on his way back to give him extra momentum.  He waved his hand dismissively but her expression hardened.

"You.  You are crazy. Are you trying to kill yourself?"  She breathed in sharply. 

"I'll be alright." He assured her.  "It's alright.  I won't die.  I promise I will come back."

"Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this for one little hamster?"

He shrugged.  "What else can I do?  We're all in this together.  Maybe you're not one of us, but any pet you have is.  In some places, people with the same goal are called friends. "

"You're an idiot."

He shrugged again.  "That doesn't bother me.  I'd rather be a cheerful idiot than a warped genius."  She didn't protest any further and took the neutral buoyancy elevator with him down to the third level.  From there they walked along the corridor to the isolated sector. 

He handed her the sandwich he was still holding.  "You may as well eat this.  It's probably already cold."  Her face showed no reaction as she silently accepted the sandwich.  She slowly unwrapped it and sniffed it cautiously.  Then she took a huge bite.  She ate it fast.  The sandwich disappeared before his eyes as they walked.  "How was it?" he asked.  "Was it good?" She didn't reply but balled up the paper it was wrapped in and threw it back at him.  Based on how happily she had eaten, he didn't need to hear how she felt.  He was pleased.

They arrived at the pipe room.  They searched the floor and opened the manhole cover that led to the emergency corridor.  A tube about two feet in diameter stretched down below them.  A simple ladder was affixed to one side of the tube.  About six feet down they could see the submerged emergency light shining.  As they peered through the hatch, they could see no signs of the water back flowing.  The pressure in the corridor would be balanced with the pressure around them.  "I wonder if there's something I can use to guide me back," he said, looking around.  He found a rope with a hook on it and decided to hold onto that as he went in.  After confirming that it was long enough, he tied one end around a nearby pipe.  He did some light stretching to warm up.

"Wait!" she said, one last time.  "I should go instead."  She stared him square in the face.  "Don't get me wrong.  I just don't want to watch you pull this hypocritical stunt is all.  I don't want to see you kill yourself because you believe this hypocrisy." 

"How can you say that?" Kensington asked her.  "That's not a nice thing to say."  He laughed at her as he continued to loosen up.  "I'll be fine.  You go back to the security office."

"Why?"

"When I get through to the other side you can tell me where the hamster is.  We won't be able to locate him without the cameras, will we?  So, unless someone who can operate the console stays behind, it won't work."

"But," she began to protest.

"It's settled," he said.  He adjusted the voice converter in his ear.  He knew they were pressure resistant, but wasn't sure they were waterproof.  "See you later."  He ruffled her hair and started down the ladder.

Kensington's toes reached the bottom of the ladder.  He let go of it and jumped into the emergency corridor.  The water was cold, much colder than the water higher up.  It was like swimming in ice water.  He had greatly miscalculated.  It wasn't the only thing he had miscalculated.  Inside the corridor was pitch dark.  He began to grope his way forward.  He couldn't tell how far he had swum or how far he needed to go.  There was no way of guessing.  He wasn't even sure if he was swimming in the right direction.  He just kept swimming in the darkness.  It was terrifying.  As his breath got tighter, he could feel the fear spreading through his body.  He realized he could die there.  Despite his fear, he was able to consider dying calmly.  He was caught in the illusion that he was sinking, farther and farther down. 

The darkness penetrated to his very core.  The shadow of death crept through his whole body.  Eroding his every cell.  He knew he couldn't last much longer.  Just as his fear reached its peak, he glimpsed a spot of light.  It was the exit.  He couldn't tell how far away it was.  His vision was cloudy and he couldn't judge the distance.  He was reaching his limit, had probably already exceeded it.

The light was shining beyond the darkness.   His body was screaming as his cramping fingers stretched out to the light.  A little further, a little further.  The light was right there.  His hand grabbed the ladder.  He wasted no time fixing the rope to the hook.  He pulled himself upwards.  He scaled the ladder quickly and burst out into the corridor.  He gasped for air, breathing deeply in and out.  He coughed and spat.  It felt like he was going to cough the darkness right out of his lungs.  Contrary to his expectations, what erupted from his mouth were the semi-liquid remains of his sausage.

Kensington was cold, but shook his head to clear it and continued his search for the hamster.  The flood doors on either side of the corridor were shut tight.  There was only one other door.  He went through.  "Hey, Mr. Hamster," he called out.  It was better than yelling, "Mr. Djungarian." 

"Taylor, are you alright?"  He heard Pamuya's voice on the intercom.  "I'm picking you up on the monitor.  If you can hear me, answer."

"Okay, Pamuya," he said, "I can hear you."

"What can you see?" she asked.

"The room is pitch dark," he replied glumly.  "I can't see a think.  Either the lights are broken or there's not enough power.  I should have brought some fireflies with me."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.  "If you pick up the hamster's location, let me know."

There was a pause before her voice said, "Go straight ahead about ten feet."  After he followed her directions, she added, "Turn right, about forty degrees."

"Forty degrees, what kind of angle is that?"

"Pay attention.  You just turned left, not right."

He turned the other way.  "Go straight ahead, another twelve feet.  There's a step there so be careful."

"How can I be careful in the dark?" he complained, then cried out as he hit the step without warning.

"What happened?" she asked in alarm.  "Are you alright?  Taylor?  Taylor?  Talk to me!"

"It's alright," he answered, chagrined.  "I'm alive.  Next time tell me how high the steps are going to be.  I just smashed my knee into it."

"I'm sorry," she replied meekly.

He was glad she couldn't see his face.  "Never mind.  Is Mr. Hamster still here?  He didn't run away, did he?"

"He's still there," she confirmed.

"Okay, keep navigating me."  On it went like that.  Eventually he successfully trapped the hamster in the plastic bag.  "I'm on my way back.  Wait for me in the pipe room.

"Alright," she said.  Kensington went out into the lighted corridor and checked on the hamster in the bag.  He was quiet, but seemed healthy.   He captured as much air in the bag as he could and then tied the mouth of it shut tight. 

Tired as he was, he hoped he could make it back the way he had come.  He hesitated for a moment, but unless he went back it was all pointless.  If he followed the rope, he should be able to get back faster than he had come.  He tied the bag to his waist, took a deep breath, and jumped into the water.
At the other end, he climbed up the pipe ladder and stuck his head out of the hatch.  He had made it safely back.  "Honey, I'm home," he called out.  Pamuya was waiting beside the hatch.  "Look what the cat dragged in… me.  Well, here I am.  I'm back."

"W-welcome back," she said, sounding startled.

He closed the hatch and stood up.  He opened the plastic bag at his waist and took out the hamster.

Taking the creature in her palm, she smiled lovingly and stroked its damp fur.  "Thank you," she whispered to Kensington without looking at him. 

"What's his name?" he asked, looking at the hamster.

"You won't  laugh?"

"Okay, I won't," he agreed.

"You promise?"

"I promise."  He raised his right hand.

"His name's Charming, because he is charming."

"That’s cute," he said, after biting back a laugh, grateful she wasn't looking at him.  "What a good name." 

She glanced up at him sharply.  "Hey!  You promised not to laugh."

"I'm not laughing," he said, backing away and raising both hands.  He tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of his mouth started to twitch.  Charming.  Charming Charming.  Well, 'Charmi-poo, Charmi-poo, it's din-din time.'  He could just imagine Pamuya baby talking to it.  "Charmi-poo, Charmi-poo," he inadvertently said aloud, and then bit down on his tongue to hold a laugh in.

"Argh."  She grimaced.  "That's why I didn't want to tell you."  Sullen, Pamuya was red-faced but she held out the bath towel she had behind her back.

"Thanks."  He took the towel and wiped himself down.  He breathed deeply, feeling reborn, as he glanced at Pamuya's face.  She was playing with the hamster in her hands and her cheeks were bright.  She looked so happy.  It was the first time he'd ever really seen her smile.

[kadh2000]

Notes about the second draft:

The planet is now a Federation planet, with amusements and diversions for vacationers and starship crews.  Somewhat modeled on the idea from the TOS episode: Shore Leave.  Utopia will still be a marine theme park.  It gets rid of the inconvenience of being unable to read the language.  It also means transtator technology can be blocked with a logical explanation.  It also means I can do a better job with the amnesiac Ryogo by making him someone Kensington and the others don't know.  It also means that when the scenario starts there will be other visitors to Utopia.  This will help the alienness of it being empty later become more alarming.  I'll have to figure out how to deal with Sickbay and Pamuya's injury though.  I can easily flood sickbay and have them to make do, if necessary.  As a last change, Medea's last name will be Crusher. (Bwahahaha.)  More for another connection to ST than for her being a Wesley.  She certainly won't be the all saving person.  Also, she'll have arrived a day before Kensington's ship.  I may have to advance the year by a decade or two.   New title of this book: Utopia: The Promise.  It's the first part of a Utopia trilogy set on the same world. 

I will continue posting the unchanged first draft for continuity reasons, and because the second draft isn't written this far yet.

Kadh, who so far likes the second draft much more than the first.  This is as it should be.

[Andromeda]

IE doesn't like this site for me.

Fascinating, actually.  Dzungarian Hamster?  The Russian white one?  Where's the injury?  Skirt?  Long enough to hide it?  Hmm.

[kadh2000]

Yes. 
You'll see.
I forgot to mention the change of attire after being taken to the infirmary.

[kadh2000]

CHAPTER 12:  WHERE ARE YOU?

Darkness spread out before his eyes.  Without limit it spread.  Nothingness.  The void was endless and he was in the middle of it.  He could find nothing by which to judge distance.  He searched for light, but couldn't even see the movement of his body.  There was nothing below his feet.  Nothing held him up and so he fell.  He fell.  Deeper and deeper, he sank into the void.  Further and further.

No, that wasn't it.  It seemed to him, rather, that the darkness was coming toward him.  It approached him at a terrifying speed, but there was no sound.  Yet it was creeping closer and closer.  And finally it penetrated him.  There was no way for him to shake it off.  It seeped completely into him.   It was strange, but there was no feel to it.  The blackness invaded and settled inside him.  It overtook him, never to part again. 

I'm becoming the darkness, he thought.  The darkness is becoming me.  My body, becoming the darkness itself.  The void was endless; it had no ceiling.  Nothing existed to cover it.  It was an abyss.

Everything was buried in pitch black.  The dark of night was crushing him.  That is how everyone dies.  He was dying.  He was dead. Death.

When Kensington awoke, his shirt was soaked with sweat. It was an awful way to start the day.  He checked the time.  It was just after three in the morning.  All drowsiness had left him.  Attempting sleep would be a waste of time after that nightmare.  Nearby he could hear soft breathing.  Medea was comfortably asleep.  Trying not to wake them, he opened the conference room door and sneaked out.

Outside, the hallway seemed endless.  For a moment Kensington had the illusion it went on forever.  Without hesitation, he stepped into the cold water filling the hallway.  He realized how oddly accustomed he grown to this spectacle, this strange situation.  This daily routine of being constantly enclosed by the walls.  Walls that, in a matter of time, were doomed to come crashing down.  Where would he be when it happened?  He decided not to think too deeply about that. 

Climbing the emergency stairway, he headed for the second level.  Reaching the infirmary, he pushed the button to open the door.  Pamuya wasn't there.  The bed was empty.  The spilled nuts were gone.  He wondered if she had cleaned them up or if it was someone else.  Reaching out to the NeVAEH terminal, he touched the screen.  No reaction.  The monitor lights were out. 

He walked toward the security office, thinking the monitors there would be online.  Opening the door, he hesitated at the smell.  As always, the room smelled like smoke.  He tried the terminal.  There were two sets of characters.  He couldn't read the first, but the second read 'Periodic Maintenance in Progress.' 

A second screen appeared.  'NeVAEH:  Full System Periodic Maintenance Program in Operation.  Until completion, portions of NeVAEH functions are inaccessible.  Estimated completion time: 6 am.'

A third screen followed. 'While under maintenance, automatic control systems throughout the compound will be partially offline.   However, facilities and attractions will operate normally.  Note:  since all sensors and recording systems operations will be checked during maintenance, function may be erratic. Therefore it will not be possible to access data through the terminals.'     

There was a fourth screen. 'WARNING: This maintenance program should not be aborted except in cases of emergency.  If aborted, there is danger of making the NeVAEH system unstable.  Therefore, please refrain from accessing NeVAEH until after maintenance completion.  Thank you for your cooperation.'

He was surprised to find a fifth screen in the message.  'Additional note: Until the maintenance completes, I will be unavailable.  Everybody should be asleep at this time, right? I informed everyone of this operation at dinnertime, but in case any of you forgot what I said, I am leaving this message.  That is all – good night, Heaven.'

Kensington didn't remember her telling him about that.  He decided that she probably had but he hadn't been listening.  He had probably been thinking about that extra sausage in the refrigerator.  He had probably been eating the sausage when she had told the others, not knowing he would be throwing it up soon thereafter.  He was lucky it hadn't been worse.  Since then, he hadn't been hungry.

Having no destination in mind, he found himself in front of an elevator.  With no clear reason in mind, he pushed the elevator button.  All he heard was the click of it being depressed.  The elevator made no sign of budging.  Of course, all the elevators in this section of the compound had been shut down.

"Hi."  Hearing a voice from behind him, Kensington turned his head.  There was Pamuya standing quietly.  "What were you up to?  There's no point in waiting around. That elevator's not coming."  He didn't have an answer to give.  "Taylor, what's the matter?  Are you deaf?"

He started laughing.  He couldn't help it.  "Come on," she said more forcefully, "what's going on?"  His laughter rang out stronger.  "What's so funny?"  She was beginning to sound disturbed.

"It's nothing.  No special reason," he said.  "It's just that, well, I thought your question was pointless."

At first, Pamuya started to frown, but then she laughed back at him.  "You've started to catch on, haven't you?"

"I suppose," Kensington agreed.  "I was just out for a little walk. What have you been doing?  Ah, that's okay, you don't have to answer."

"In that case, don't ask."  Turning her eyes away, Pamuya frowned slightly.  Looking at the floor, she seemed lost in thought.  After a moment, she lifted her eyes and spoke.  "Do you know what Qualle is?"

"Qualle?" He repeated the unfamiliar word.  Then he remembered.  "Yeah, I know what it is.  It's that gondola attraction isn't it?" She nodded.  "What about it then?"
"It's just behind these elevators," she said.  Then they both fell silent.  She started to giggle and gave him a hard look.  They both knew what they were going to do next.  With Pamuya in the lead, the both headed for the Qualle entrance.

"How do you make this thing work?" he asked, idly as they passed the controls for the gondolas. 

"Figure it out yourself," she commented.  He looked at her askance and she rolled her eyes.  "It's already turned on, you dummy.  Just get in and it'll go.  I tried it out already."

"If you say so," he said looking at the ride doubtfully.  "Wait a minute, you already tried it out?"

She shrugged.  "I tested it.  Just in case."  Her face looked troubled, like she had been caught at something.

"You rode it alone?" he persisted.

"Not exactly alone.  You see, well, I was with Charming."

"The hamster?"

"Well, yes."

"In other words," he said, still teasing, "one adult and one critter."  She nodded.  "You rode Qualle with Charming."

"Don't make me repeat myself," she warned.

He went on to the next question.  "Was it fun?"

"Charming fell asleep," she said, crossing her arms.  "I guess he was bored. But, as for me…" she gave a pregnant pause.   "Who cares?  It's a meaningless question."  Pamuya hadn't said much, but it was a lot more than usual for her.

"In other words, you were lonely.  If I was there, I could have cheered you up."

She turned sharply to face him.  "What do you mean 'cheer me up'?"

"Well, you've been through a lot.  I thought the two of us together would…"

She giggled slightly.  "Right."  Her expression lost all its tension and she began laughing.

"Did I say something stupid?" he asked.

She put her hands over her heart.  "No, not really.  It's nothing important. I just needed to laugh."  Then, suddenly, her expression hardened again.  But then again, he thought, a slight smile remained on her face.  "Let's go," she suggested.

Together, they got inside the ride.  Immediately after the hatch closed, the gondola began to move forward smoothly.  It was just as Pamuya had said.  It picked up speed and headed toward the outskirts of the second level.   The corrugated tube carrying the gondola wrapped its way along the perimeter of the floor.  Floating comfortably inside the tube, the gondola skirted its way along.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Pamuya said.  "There are some things I need to say.  Things to say… things I need to let you know.  I figured no one could interrupt us here."

Kensington turned his attention from the outer walls to look at her.  "It must really be something important.  Something serious."

"Well, yeah.  At least for me it is."  Having her approach him to talk was unusual.  Pamuya fixed her eyes firmly on his.  Her eyes were serious, with no sign of mischief in them.  Whatever the consequences, he had to listen.

"Seventeen years ago," she began, "In August of 2250, on a summer day, I was infected.  I was infected with a virus.  Yes 2250.  Seventeen years ago.  I was only twelve years old at the time."

"A virus?" he interrupted. 

She nodded.  "Yeah."

"And you're still infected?" Kensington asked.

"Yeah.  I'm a carrier." 

"A carrier?" he echoed in alarm.  "Wait a second.  Just a second here. You mean to tell me seventeen years ago, at age twelve?"

"That's what I said."

"That means your age now is…"

"That's right, I'm twenty-eight.  I'll be twenty-nine in another two months.  You see.  I was born twenty-nine years ago.  In July 2238." 

He scrutinized her face.  There was no way she looked twenty-eight.  He knew, however, that she wasn't lying.  They had never touched upon the subject of her age.  He had assumed her to be just out of Starfleet Academy.  "Twenty-eight years old…" he muttered.

"Taylor, where are you?"  She suddenly changed the topic. 

He looked up sharply.  "What do you mean?  I'm right here."

"Where is here?"

He was confused.  "Here is here, isn't it?"  He beat the palm of his hand against his chest to put a physical element to it. 

"Have you ever cut your fingernails?" she asked.

He didn't follow her line of reasoning.  "What's with you, all of a sudden?"

She leaned over urgently, right in front of his face.  In her eyes, Kensington could see something, like a distant light.  He could just glimpse the tip of her tongue, wet and smooth.  "Just answer," she said softly.  "Have you ever cut your fingernails?"

"Of course I have."

"Well then, is the nail that's been cut away still you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said, "are you there, in the nail?"

"No…" he said slowly.  "Once it's gone from my body, it's not me anymore."

"How about hair?"

"The same goes for hair," he asserted.

She took one of his hairs between her fingers.  "In other words, this hair right here is you, but if I pull it out…"  She yanked the strand out of his head.   "This isn't' you?"  Pamuya held the hair up, waving it around.

"Hmm, that's tough," he said, thinking about it more.  "It isn't me, but I guess you could call it 'ex-me'."

"Okay, then," she continued.  "What if I ripped your arm off?"

He pulled away reflexively.  "You've got to be kidding."

She grabbed his arm.  Before he could react he was drawn into her body.  Although her grip wasn't abnormally strong, he found it impossible to resist her.  It was a natural, flowing movement.  Inside the white gondola, Pamuya's body covered his.  He could feel her breath.  He could feel her pulse.  He could feel her warmth.  He could smell her scent.  The smell of musk made him slightly dizzy.  "Well, if I ripped your arm off?"  Gazing intently at him, Pamuya continued to shoot him questions.  "Would you be there, in the arm?"

"No, I suppose I wouldn't be there."

"Okay, then what if I took off your leg? Or if I cut your torso away? Or even if I took out your brain?"  Still gazing at him, she moved her hands and put them on his neck.  He felt like he was being hunted.  The illusion was intense.  She looked straight at him.  He couldn't shake himself away from her gaze.  He peered deeply into her eyes.  He felt as if he were being sucked inside her.  Those eyes, full of that distant light.  He wondered where that light originated.  "Tell me, Taylor, where are you?"

"I'm… where am I?"  Me, Taylor Kensington, he thought.  Since the moment he was born he had existed as one person.  One continuous, linear, cohesive individual.  There was no doubt about that fact.  The 'him' as a baby in a photo album, the 'him' running around in elementary school and finally, the 'him' lying there… they were all the same organism called Taylor Kensington. 

So where exactly did that entity exist?  In the past, people had thought a person's soul existed in the heart.  Descartes believed the soul inhabited the pineal gland in the brain.  He wondered briefly if he only existed in his memories.  If that were true, he reflected, if he lost his memory like Ryogo, wouldn't that mean he was no longer Taylor Kensington?  Thoughts?  Senses? Emotions?  Sensations? Character? Values?  All of those things were nothing but functions of the brain.

The 'him' that had run around in elementary school was composed of different molecules than the 'him' that was there now.  From a purely material view, the younger 'him' was an entirely different being than the older 'him'.  Cells died and were replaced daily.  Every cell that was replaced would also die.  He remembered reading that the cells in a human body were completely replaced every three to five years.  By comparison, a rock would still be composed of the same molecules. 

A human body was different. Despite that, the 'him' of five years ago and the 'him' of now were definitely the same.   Then just what was it that defined 'him'?  Where did that 'him' exist? 

Pamuya took her hand off his throat and he breathed easier.  "You see?" she probed.  "Your existence has no substance.  All you are is a concept."

"A concept?" he repeated.

"You are just a packet of information," she said.  "Software.  The information written on a computer disk has no physical body, right?  The disk itself is just a hard mass of polycarbonate, but that mass has nothing to do with the information it holds.  Information can't have a physical body.  That's impossible.  Information does not have shape or substance.  The embodiment of information only takes place through its application.  However, the embodied information itself has no actual body.  The essence of information is the information itself. 

"Taylor, it's the same for you.  There is no physical substance to your 'essence'.  Instead, the human called Taylor Kensington is no more than a concept, information, software.  That essence is realized only through your body: the hardware.  That's it.  Your body is just the hardware.  It's just a device in which the entity 'you' is embodied."

"Hmm, I see."  He nodded up at her.  "Okay, I understand you perfectly.  No.  I hardly understand you at all, but if what you say is true… then what?  What does that have to do with what you were talking about?"

"Seventeen years ago, I was infected with a virus.  Because of that virus… the virus… It rewrote my genetic code."  He wrinkled his brow, trying to make sense of her words.  "Cells in people's bodies are replaced daily," she went on.  "They are reborn and then die.  Normally the human body is replaced with new cells within five years.

"When I was twelve, the cells in my body were infected.  From that moment on, they divided and replaced themselves.  Five years later, all my cells had been replaced.  Every cell that made up my body had been genetically altered.  And when the last of the original cells died, the last trace of my twelve-year-old self disappeared.  In that moment, the old me died. 

"The old me died, but the new me became a body that never dies."

"Never dies?" he whispered.

"My immune system and my metabolic rate were remarkably improved," she said.  "My telomeres began to regenerate themselves.  I will never grow any older and will never die.  My physical growth stopped at that moment in time.  I'll never grow older than seventeen." 

Highly improved immune system and increased metabolic efficiency.  Telomeres that continue to rejuvenate.  If what she said was to be believed, Pamuya's body would never die on its own.  As long as her body had the energy to continue, it would not die.  As long as she continued to have the will to live, her body would be sustained forever. 

Semi-eternal life.  He wondered if such a thing were even conceivable.  Was the concept of never growing old, never dying possible?  Living creatures aged to protect against exhaustion and deterioration of function.  The life cycle needed aging so it could have succession and renewal through subsequent generations.

Kensington couldn't help but laugh.  "That's a good story, but no way is it possible.  As a good joke, it's pretty solid."

Pamuya sighed.  "I guess you're right."  She snickered.  "Yes, it's just a little joke.  I thought you might fall for it, but I guess not."

"What else did you expect?" Kensington retorted.  "Crazy talk like that."

"Well, Taylor," she said, "I guess you're not so stupid after all."

She rolled off him and stood up slowly.  Her dishevelled clothes showed just a peek of her legs and a glimpse of her sleek thighs.  Her clean satin skin. And a scar.  He looked at it more intently.  "What's the matter?" she asked.  "What are you looking at?"

"Your right thigh, at the scar."

"Do you want a closer look?"

"Yes.  No."  He was unsure of himself again.

"Shall I show you?"  She moved the skirt aside.  It was a scar.  It looked like something that had healed years ago, just a scar where once several stitches had closed a wound. 


*******

Yes, they had sex.  Can't tell can you?

[Hstaphath_XC]

I would very much like to read the second draft as well after you are done with it.

Yes, they had sex.  Can't tell can you?

Nope.  Even with that in mind reading it a second time, there just aren't enough subtle clues to suggest that happened.   

[Andromeda]

Me neither.  I did one like that, but it was just enough less subtle.  I want to see the 2nd version too.

[Czar Mohab]

I read the "they had sex" comment first, then, while scrolling up, my eyes stopped on "The hamster?" and thought ,"he wouldn't..."

Yeah, that's where my mind was.

Czar "He mightn't. I might (write that)," Mohab

P.S. Otherwise enjoyed this segment; and no, did not find any other sex-related hintings.

[kadh2000]

CHAPTER 13: WHAT IT MEANS TO BE ALIVE

********
Pamuya puts Taylor through another rough one.  Everybody starts to give up.  Doom and gloom all around.

********

Afterwards he went straight back to the conference room.  Both his mind and body were exhausted.  Even though little remained of the night, he slept soundly.  When he awoke, he felt refreshed and recharged.  Apparently no one had noticed his disappearance during the night.

"Good morning everyone."  They were met by Heaven, a little later than usual, in the conference room.

"How did the maintenance go?" Dr. Young asked.  Apparently everyone else did know about it. 

"The system is in sound condition," Heaven reported.  "Although there would be no way to repair any mechanical damage if were to occur. The scheduled maintenance program checked out.  I can assure you that the entire compound is functioning normally."

"That's good to hear," Dr. Young said. 

Heaven continued, "After carefully assessing the situation, I have found a slight noise in my thought processor.  Normal functions will not be compromised so no modifications are necessary."

"What does that mean?" Medea asked, voicing Kensington's question.

"Well, Medea, it means that…"  Heaven paused and then started her explanation differently.  "You see, sometimes certain customers want to play pranks on me.  They tell lies or try to confuse me.  Because of that, my memories or programmed responses get a little out of alignment.  It tends to cause issues in my thought processing. Sometimes older data gets mixed with newer information, making it difficult to determine which is correct.  When this problem becomes severe, it becomes necessary to fiddle with the system and overwrite the problematic data.   

"However, at this time, nothing to drastic has occurred, so please don't worry."

"Okay," Medea said. 

"Other than that," Heaven continued, "I have yet to complete a full check of the sensor data which was recorded throughout the compound while you all were sleeping.  I doubt any new leakage has occurred but I will report back to you once I've checked the sensor data.

"By the way, thanks to the maintenance program, NeVAEH terminal response has been greatly improved.   There was a slight problem concerning NeVAEH traffic, but it has been resolved.  Terminal communication functions were optimized to adjust to Utopia's current status."

"What do you mean by that?" Kensington asked.  "I'd like to know more about what exactly was tweaked in the terminals."

She cocked her head sideways for a moment.  "Why don't we go to breakfast?" she asked.

Kensington looked at her in shock.  He was surprised that she had totally ignored his question.  He hoped she just hadn't heard him.  The others didn't seem concerned and they all relocated to the sandwich shop.

As always, he ended up cooking breakfast for everyone.  Looking at their faces, he suddenly felt relieved.  They seemed so happy.  Heaven stood by quietly watching them enjoy their meal.  Pamuya was still nowhere to be seen.

After breakfast, they were once again faced with free time.  There was, however, nothing in particular to do.  Nothing had to be done.  Without any reason to do anything, they all gathered in the rest area.  The vases were filled with now-blossoming flowers.  Heaven had apparently set the sprinkler system to periodically water the flowers.  Kensington didn't see her anywhere, but assumed she was checking the sensor data.  He guessed she would be in the control room.  She seemed better able to concentrate on performing operations from there. 

Dr. Young was strolling lazily along the top of the circular stage in the middle of the room.  The other two were enjoying splashing in the water.  Kensington had seen it all before.  He had a good stretch and relaxed on a bench to observe the others.

Ryogo and Medea circled the stone statues.  They were playing a game of chase, not really caring who was it.  Without seeming to get bored, they kept running around.  Just watching them, Kensington seemed to be making more effort.  He had no intention of joining in.

 He looked around the room, but Pamuya had still not put in an appearance.   He had left her a sandwich at the kiosk, just in case.  He wondered what he would say to her if he met her.  She had confided her secrets to him on the gondola ride.  Virus carrier.  A body that never dies, never grows old.  Her healed scar.  It was all so hard to believe.  Could her story be true?  He was still unable to completely believe her. 

He glanced up and noticed Medea and Ryogo had stopped running around.  With a worried look on his face, Ryogo was watching Medea intently.  In the middle of the rest area, there were the four stone statues.  Medea was deliberately attempting to scale one of the pedestals.  With a heave, she began to climb up the side.  It was an odd sight.  Kensington ran over to where Ryogo stood frozen watching her.  Stumbling as she mounted the pedestal, Medea ended up embracing the statue.  "What are you doing?" Ryogo asked her curtly.

"Standing a little higher to get a different view," she answered.  "Everything looks different.  Twenty-seven inches higher, to be exact."  She had a strange smile on her face as she was perched atop the pedestal. 

"Is that why you climbed up there?" Ryogo asked.

"Actually, no," she replied with her head cocked.  "This area of the statue looks like it's missing something."  Ryogo and Kensington both looked where she was pointing but neither saw anything unusual.  "The statue's back needs something."  Medea produced a flat-headed screwdriver in her right hand.  Then another appeared in her left hand.  She began to carve the back of the statue using the tips of the screwdrivers.  Within moments, the statue was covered with gashes. 

Kensington and Ryogo stood there a while, gazing at her with jaws dropped.  "What are you doing?" Ryogo yelled. 

"Carving," Medea replied enigmatically.  "I'm etching some marks into the stone."

"We can tell that by watching you," Kensington said with a snort.  "That's not what we mean.  Why are you doing it?"

"I was feeling lonesome," she explained in a tiny voice.  "I was feeling sad."  She worked the tips of the screwdrivers with great dexterity.  They dug into the stone, screeching and forming tiny grooves. 

"Sad?" Ryogo asked her. 

"Nobody's coming to rescue us," she reasoned.  "We've been abandoned."  Then her voice took a cheery edge.  "So what's the harm in wrecking the place a little?"

Kensington and Ryogo looked at each other.  Medea looked at her handiwork.  The gashes had begun to take shape.  It looked like she had drawn a stick figure of a person.  "Who's that?" Ryogo asked.

"It's me," she said.  "Over here is Charming."  Kensington could see the small animal form beside the human one.  "Then there's Pamuya," she pointed to the half-finished figure with a large head.  "She needs to look really good." Absorbed by what she was doing, Medea continued to carve the statue's back.  Kensington could easily relate to her need to throw herself into something.

"That's vandalism," Ryogo protested. 

Kensington put an arm on his shoulder.  "Relax, Kid.  Now's not the time to worry about that.  You can't blame her."  Ryogo nodded in agreement and stepped back a little.  At that moment, Medea lost her balance.  Ryogo jumped forward and steadied her.  He grabbed her hips to prevent her from slipping and carefully lowered her to sit on the pedestal.

"Watch your step," he told her.

"I will," she said.  "Why don't you help me finish.  That way I'll be sure I'm safe. If you take one screwdriver and do yourself and Maggie, I can finish adding Taylorpion over here.  We'll each be able to hold on better with only one hand carving."  She gave Ryogo one of the screwdrivers and he climbed up to join her.

"Be careful not to fall yourself," Taylor admonished him.

"Don't worry," he said.  "I'll keep an eye on her."  He took Medea's empty hand.  While embracing the statue in a hug, the two of them steadied each other.  As they marked it up, the statue stood without complaint, pointing its finger to the south.  A little while later what was left in stone were the carved images of six people and one animal.  It was evidence of their existence there.

That afternoon, after a light lunch, Kensington noticed that Dr. Young was missing.  Ryogo told him that she had gone to the security office on the second floor to do some 'research'.

With everyone else accounted for, and Pamuya's sandwich gone, he decided to see what Dr. Young researching.  With Dr. Young, Pamuya, and Heaven all having disappeared at the same time, he suspected that something was happening, something that he had somehow missed.  Instead of making his way to see what Dr. Young was doing, he decided to first check on Pamuya. 

He came out of the stairway by the infirmary.  The door abruptly opened in his face and Pamuya came flying out and dodged right past him.  She was gone in a flash, not seeming to even notice him. He whirled around to go after her, but hesitated.  The events of the night before popped into his mind.  He watched her back fade further away.  Almost too late, he decided to follow her.  "Hey, wait!  Where are you going?" 

He chased her to the stairwell and the emergency corridor, but she was out of sight before he entered the corridor.  "Pamuya!" he yelled loudly after her, then cursed when he realized she was gone.  For someone who was still supposed to be recuperating, her speed was unnatural.  She did seem a little slower than when she had rescued him from the initial flood.

Not wanting her to be overdoing it, he cursed a second time and continued after her.  Even though the sound of her footsteps was fading in the distance, it gave him a bearing to go by.  After listening, he realized that she had re-entered a corridor on the second floor.  He traced her route out to the gondola ride, but she was nowhere in sight. 

He cursed a third time and decided to give up.  Disappointed, he turned and headed toward the security office.  It still smelled faintly of smoke.  Dr. Young looked up from one of the consoles.  "Hi, Taylor."

"Since I've found you, I wanted to ask you something," he said.  "Ryogo said you wanted to do some research up here."

 She looked startled.  "The kid said that?  What exactly did he tell you?"

"Nothing specific.  He just said you were researching something so I decided to ask you myself."

She nodded.  "Here, I'll let you in on it."  Turning back to the console, Dr. Young began to type.  "You may not remember, Taylor, but I've been researching Utopia for several days now."  Her eyes were glued to the monitor while she spoke.  "And then there's the thing about my father, or have I told you about him yet?"

Kensington thought back.  On their first day at the facility, when she had startled him by starting up the carousel, she had mentioned him.  "Have you found something?"

"No."  She shook her head slowly.  Eyeing the monitor, she hit some more keys, entering a code.  "If only I could find the password, I could access all the data in NeVAEH.  The system data has some kind of security protection.  This would include the personal data of the development staff as well.  I'm hunting for the key to unlock that protection."

"You've been doing that since we got here?"

"Yes, but I'm about to give up." She stopped typing and looked at him. 

"What would happen to Heaven," he asked, "if you bypassed the security?  Since she's an AI inside the system, wouldn't she be affected?"

"Oh," she said thoughtfully.  "Yes.  If the protections were removed, Heaven would be totally exposed.  Naked, as it were."  She glared at him.  "Stop thinking of something kinky."

"I wasn't thinking anything like that at all," he protested good-naturedly.

"You seem pretty suspect to me," she said.  "Besides, it just means that all her thoughts, memories, and various data will be accessible."

"That's quite an invasion of privacy," he whistled.

"Not really.  To tell the truth, I'm not interested in that information.  I've no intention of going through Heaven's data."

Kensington fell silent, searching for something to say.  Dr. Young was looking downcast.  "How would you expect to find something about your father here?"

"Look around," she said, her brow furrowed.  "This place is too perfect for humans for someone else to have built it.  He disappeared in this sector.  Maybe he was working on a secret project: this place.  But I know what has to be done.  I know all too well.  But once I break this security code, I'll know everything we need to know.  I can't say if it's possible to break the code, but I know the data's there."

"At least I've made a start on it," she concluded with more enthusiasm.  She turned back to the console and began talking to herself as she worked.

At least what she was doing, he thought, might give them some answers.  Pamuya, he, and now Dr. Young all suspected there was more to Utopia than it seemed.  She gave him a smile, then popped her neck and rotated her shoulders.  "Good luck," he said encouragingly.  "We've still got time left."

She began muttering to herself again.  "My mother used to tell me all about my father's habits.  There are clues to be found.  Decoding something as inorganic as a computer is possible because programmers have habits."  Dr. Young sat and stared at the monitor for a long time without looking his way.  Without a word, he slipped out of the security office.

When dinner time arrived, he once again cooked for everyone and passed out their food.  They gathered on the circular stage in the rest area to eat.  At a wave of Heaven's hand, the sprinklers activated and a gentle rain began pouring from the ceiling sprinklers onto the flower beds.  There was even a small rainbow.  Smiling, Heaven watched the fresh flowers and the sparkling rainbow.  Kensington wondered how long he could watch the peaceful world she had created.  How long could he keep looking at her smiling face?  The thought made him feel lonely.

Then again, the others were there too; one of them opening her mouth so wide it didn't seem it could open any more.  Right now, Maryann Ginger Young looked happy.  "I want another one please," she said enthusiastically.   "Would you be so kind as to make another one and bring it here?"  The tone of her request was a little too sweet.  She may have been sad earlier, but she seemed to have recovered. 

"You are such a slavedriver," he accused her and rose to make the sandwich. 

"Did you say something?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing at all, milady."  He bowed with a flourish. 

"Just as long as you realize who's in charge."  He trudged back to the kitchen.  As he was cooking, and grumbling about it, Pamuya entered the kitchen. 

"I'd like to ask for another one, if that's okay," she said.  There was none of Dr. Young's teasing in her voice.  He growled at her anyway.  "What?" she asked, taken aback.  "Did I catch you at a bad time?"  Her expression was one of annoyance.  "If you're not willing…"

"Oh, it's not you," he explained.  "Dr. Young's already got me back here.  It's okay.  You just want one?"

"Yes thanks," she replied.  "There might be one more thing."  She turned around and looked at Medea, who had also joined them.  The little kitchen was getting crowded.  "What do you want?" Pamuya asked her.

"Just a little something, actually," Medea said. 

"There's some bread," Pamuya observed.  "How about that?"

"Perfect," Medea agreed.   "Taylorpion, I'd like some bread."  He gave her a signal to show her he had heard. 

"By the way, Taylor," Pamuya added, "were you upset about something?  Are you feeling okay, or is it…"  Her voice trailed off.

"Nothing like that," he said.  "I was just irritated at Dr. Young for asking for seconds."

She smiled.  "So that was it.  Well, don't worry, just take your time.  I'll be waiting."  Medea and Pamuya joined hands and started out of the kitchen. 

Pamuya's smile had been so gentle.  It had surprised Kensington to have her talking so normally to him.  The Pamuya right there seemed like she would never talk about dying even by accident.  He wondered if she had resolved her feelings.  If so, then talking to her the day before had been the right thing to do.  He had chased after her constantly, been hit by her, and been put down by her.  The Pamuya right there was definitely part of the group. 

He listened as she and Medea continued to talk just outside then kitchen.  "I had a dream last night," Medea was saying.  "I was riding a whale and the Kid was riding it with me.  The whale was bouncing all over the place.  We were back in space and met someone from planet Nognilk."

It was just a strange dream, but Pamuya was listening patiently with a smile on her face.  Kensington watched their interaction quietly.  Dr. Young arrived just in time to spoil the scene.  "What's taking so long?"

He brought their extra food back to the rest area and distributed it there.  Dr. Young continued to complain about the quality of the service.  He grouchily passed her the sandwich and sat down in the center of the circle.  She continued to tease him and he began to respond.  Before long it had turned into a comic battle of one-upmanship about her sandwich.

Suddenly, he looked up from their banter to find Ryogo standing over him with a leaden gaze.  "What's wrong, Kid?" Dr. Young asked him.  "Weren't you hungry?"  His sandwich was still in his hand, unopened.

"You've got to eat to stay healthy," Kensington added.  "I can reheat that for you if you would like."  He extended his hand.

Ryogo jerked the sandwich against his chest and backed away.  He looked at Kensington with a hard expression.   Then he crushed the sandwich.  Sauce flew everywhere.  It got on Ryogo's clothes, but he didn't seem to notice.  Not finished, he took the mangled sandwich and threw it against a pillar. 

"What are you doing?" Kensington asked, rising to his feet in shock.

His shoulders trembling, Ryogo looked away from Kensington.  He finally dragged out some words.  "Sick.  I'm sick of it! That's all I can take!" He kicked forcefully at the thin layer of water about his feet.  Everyone was looking at him now.   "I can't stand it any more!  I don't want anymore fried whatever this is sandwiches.  I'm sick of them.  I want to eat something else."  He screamed.

Kensington's breath caught in his throat.  The others seemed just as surprised as he was.  Nobody said anything. 

"I'm sick," Ryogo went on, "and tired.  So what if we're still alive? No one is going to save us.  What we're doing here, everything we're doing here… There's no point.  There isn't any point to us being here."  He raised a shaking fist.  Not finding any direction to launch it, he lowered it again. 

Kensington looked at the others again.  None of them were willing to look directly at Ryogo.  It seemed they were afraid of what they might see if they even looked at each other.  Nobody moved.  Their lips were pressed firmly together as if they dared not speak.  "Stupid fool!" he exclaimed.  "What the hell are you talking about?  Don't ask for the impossible.  Do you have any idea what you're asking?  The only foods we have to eat are these sandwiches.  You tell me you're sick of it?  You still have to eat it!  It's the only way to survive!  So you'd better be thankful for it.  We're all putting up with it the best we can. 

"You're one of us right?  You need to be more cooperative.  They're all being patient.  They're helping out.  Even if they don't like it, they eat, and they're surviving.  If we don't, then we're finished. Wake up.  We're all going to get through this together. As long as we're alive, there's still hope." 

As if to punctuate his statements, the building shook.  A loud, blunt, metallic sound echoed through the room.   They all staggered and struggled to maintain their footing. 

"I know," Ryogo said.  "I know that Taylor.  I know.  Even though I know, what can I do?"  He slapped the sandwich out of Dr. Young's hand.  It fell into the water with a splash and sank slowly. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Kensington yelled.  He grabbed Ryogo's shirt front and raised his hand.  He struck Ryogo hard on the cheek.  It had to have hurt him.  Kensington's hand even hurt.  More than the pain in his hand, his heart hurt.  He released Ryogo's collar and Ryogo backed away slowly.  The others watched them in silence. 

"You hit me," Ryogo moaned.  "Damn it, damn it."

"Look at Pamuya," Kensington ordered him, pointing at her.  She stood, silent and unmoving.  "She injured her leg horribly and almost drowned.  She had surgery.  I would have probably died from that, but she pulled through it." 

Ryogo timidly raised his eyes and looked at her.  Soon, however, he was staring at the floor again.  "You can say that, but I'm not her.  We're not all the same.  I can't do it.  I can't do it.  I'm just not that strong.  I never will be.  I can't go on living.  I don't want to go on living.  I should just…"

Kensington didn't want to make him say the rest, but he couldn't stop him.  He knew how hard it would be for Ryogo to say it.  Even Kensington wouldn't have been able to say it.  They all waited in silence for his next words.

"What do you want to do?" Pamuya broke the spell.  She stepped in front of Ryogo.  "What do you want to do?"  Her eyes were unfeeling and quiet.  "Come on, you can say it.  I want to know what you want to do."  She approached Ryogo one step at a time.  The others remained where they were, silent and unmoving.  "You can't say it."

He tried to speak but no words came out of his mouth.  He was trapped by her, couldn't move away.  Pamuya reached Ryogo and touched him.  "You don't want to live?"  He tried to nod, but his head didn't move.  "You want to die then?"  Ryogo couldn't respond.  "Say something, please," Pamuya gently commanded, her tone neutral.  "I don't know what you mean.  Which is it? Do you want to die?  Do you want to live?"  After a moment in which he didn't speak, she said.  "So, you can't answer.  Then don't ever say that again.  Do you understand?"

Ryogo put a hand to his head, then broke down in tears and fell into the water.  "I'm sorry," he muttered.  "I'm so sorry."  Dr. Young, suddenly spurred into action, ran over and put her arms around him.  Heaven, trembling, looked down and covered her face in her hands.  Medea, too young to have experience with the situation, just looked from person to person speechless.

"Pamuya?"  Kensington looked at her face.  Her expression was unreadable. 

"Taylor," she said.  "Come here for a second."  He looked at her in confusion, so she walked over to where he was standing.  Eyebrows raised, she glared at him strongly.   Her hand shot out and grasped his arm, tightly, painfully.  "Come with me."  He followed behind her as she walked away.  Wordlessly she moved doggedly forward.   Her grip was firm and she kept pulling him.

She pulled him through the corridors until they were far away from the others on the second level.  Then she released him.  "Just when I thought you'd finally learned to shut up." She let out a big sigh.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked angrily.

"Just what it sounds like.  I'm so disappointed in you."  Her brow remained furrowed as she looked at him.  She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.  She looked completely fed up and he couldn't fathom why.  She turned and started walking away from him.

"Wait just a second.  What's with you?  Did I do something to you?"  He insisted that she answer him. 

"No.  No, it's not like that," she said in increasingly angry tones.  "You don't understand anything."  She threw back her shoulders and picked up her pace.

"What don’t I understand?  Things were getting out of hand back there.  If you hadn't said something, I don't know how it would have turned out.  I'm glad you did and really am sorry and thanks."  He wasn't sure, so he apologized for everything.   She didn't stop or turn back or even reply.  He continued to call her name as he chased after her.  "You of all people should know how serious this situation is.  So how come you are? 

"No.  That's not it.  That's not it.  That's not it! You're angry at ME, right?  Why are you so mad?  Please, tell me!"

She stopped at the entrance to Qualle, the gondola ride.  "Okay.  I will.  It's a stupid question, but I'll answer it for you anyway."  She turned and smiled at him disconcertingly.  He flinched.  "Do you remember what you said earlier?" she asked.

"Let me see…" He wasn't sure which earlier she meant.  "I was fairly angry, so I'm not exactly sure of my words.  But, you know what I said.  I really don't think I said anything wrong to the kid.  I am sure about that."

"I guess it looks like you weren't wrong.  That's why I'm mad."  She jumped onto the ride.  He hurried after her and closed the door. The gondola zipped into the tube and out into the ocean. 

Once he was safely trapped, she started yelling.  "I get so frustrated!" She pounded the shell of the gondola with her fist.  She looked annoyed once again.  The gondola swayed slightly as it moved forward. "Is it really just enough to be alive?  You said, 'you're one of us so you should cooperate.'   That's how you kept pushing him to agree with you, and buy into all your fake ideals.  I can't believe how irresponsible you can be.  Who the hell do you think you are?  You've really got some nerve talking like that."

"What else could I do?" he shouted back at her.  "It's better than just standing by and watching him sink in despair.  It's better to have a little hope than no hope at all."

"You're such a hypocrite."

"You're selfish and self-righteous.  You're always pretending like you don't care about anyone!  You go about hurting people on purpose and making them feel like crap.  Now you're trying to make me look bad." 

"I do not…" She paused and began again.  Her voice was calm.  "I'm not doing it on purpose.  There's just a lot that I don't agree with."

"Liar," he countered.  "That's not the way you want things to happen in your heart and you know it.  Why do you have to lash out at everything?  Why can't you just be yourself for once?"

"You're wrong," she said.  "You're the one who isn't being yourself." 

"I'm always myself"

"You're so twisted."

He snorted.  "That's funny coming from you, but this isn't what we came here to talk about.  Why are you so angry?  If I did something wrong, I deserve it. If there really is a good reason, I won't complain. So, come on, tell me.  I won't argue with you.  Just tell me what it is."

"You really want to know?" Her voice lost all of its bluster.  She sat back against the wall of the gondola.

"Of course," he said.  She hesitated a moment, but then slid over next to him.  Pamuya looked straight ahead.  She didn't even try to look at him. 

"Why?" she asked.

"Because… I want to know. Because I want to know what my friends are thinking."  He put his hand lightly on her shoulder.  He was becoming more and more worried. Maybe she was still trying to be stubborn.   Pamuya didn't try to shake off his hand, but just sat there.

"That's right," she said.  "You made me 'one of the gang' again, didn't you?  If you want to know, then here goes.  I tell you.  It's because, in the end, I've become 'your friend'."

"Why do you have to say it like that?" he asked sharply.  "You're not still…"

As he spoke, she thrust her hand into her pocket and it came out with something.  "Taylor, you know what this is, right?"  It was Charming, her Djungarian hamster.

"Where the heck did you pull that from?"

"My pocket."

"I know that," he replied.  "That's not what I'm asking.  Don't just pull him out and talk of him as a 'this'.  Hamsters are delicate living creatures and you should be careful with him."

"You're right," she said softly.  "But what else can I do?  He doesn't have anywhere else to go."  Charming stood in Pamuya's hand.  He twitched his nose and looked up at both of their faces inquisitively.  Pamuya stroked him softly with the tip of her finger.

She pulled the hamster up to her chest.  "Taylor, do you know what will happen if I go like this?"  Pamuya grasped both of her hands tightly together.  In between the cracks of her fingers, he could see Charming's soft warm-looking grey fur.  Soon his body disappeared entirely in her hands.  "Do you know what will happen?"

"Idiot.  Cut it out," he cried in alarm. 

"Answer me."  Her voice was just a whisper.  She started to squeeze harder.  Charming, the tip of whose nose was the only thing visible, turned his beady eyes toward Pamuya.

"What are you talking about?" His voice was quavering.  "It's totally obvious.  What a stupid question. You want to talk about stupid questions.  There's one for you."

She started squeezing more.  The space between her fingers got smaller and smaller.  Charming twisted his body and started to struggle.    "Cut it out.  Pamuya, if you go on like this, Charming's going to…" The hamster looked at Pamuya and him.  At the end, he thought the creature even let out a small breath. 

Pamuya crushed her hands together with all her might.  They pressed together.  Her hands were shaking with the effort.  From the cracks of her fingers, red droplets started to fall.  "Well, Taylor, what do you think happened to Charming?"  Her voice was also shaking.  "Tell me. TELL ME!"

"No. You think I'm going to answer that?  Open your hands.  Pamuya, open your hands.  Please, just open them up.  Now!"

Her hands were shaking heavily as they opened.  "Charming!" he gasped.  "Pamuya, what have you done?"  He was dead.  His fur was slightly wet.  Charming looked like an old, dirty dishrag.  All the bones in his body were probably broken.  All of the blood had probably been squeezed from his body.  He probably hadn't had any time to wonder, it happened so fast.  His life had been extinguished.

"So," she said, "Taylor, do you know?"  She was near tears.  "Taylor, what do you think is going to happen now?"

"Pamuya! Cut it out!"  He shook her shoulders violently.  He thought he would surely knock her over.  He forced her to look at him.  She was crying, and her lips trembled as she bit down on them.

"Taylor, why won't you answer me?" Her voice was hysterical through her tears.

"Charming is dead," he finally forced himself to say.  "He won't ever move again."  His eyes widened with surprise.  In her hand, Charming seemed to move faintly.  It was as if he had woken up suddenly.  His movements were stiff and barely visible and extremely slow, but he was actually moving.  His heart had started beating again, and he had started thinking again, breathing again.  He shook himself of slightly, fluttered his ears, and twitched his nose.   He got up on shaking legs and even tried to stand.
However, there was still blood on her hand.  "So Taylor," she said, "what happened to Charming?"

Outside, he noticed the gondola was at the entrance to the ride again and was starting on another pass.  They had been on the ride perhaps ten minutes.  In that brief time, he had returned to normal and was sitting up on her palm, staring at the two of them inquisitively. Pamuya was petting Charming softly again with the tip of her finger. 

"He's different than the kid.  Different than you.  You saw.   That was real.  Charming has the virus too.  The first time I tried to pet him, he got spooked.  He bit my finger and my blood got all over him.  Charming's just like me now."

"No way."  Taylor couldn't believe it.  Even though it had happened right in front of him, he couldn't believe it. 

"See," Pamuya murmured as she looked down, "this little guy's alive.  He's alive.  He's breathing.  His heart is beating. But it hurt, didn’t' it little guy? It was painful, wasn't it?  I did something terrible.  I'm sorry, Charming.  I'm so sorry.  Forgive me.  I was wrong.  But, it's okay because you're alive, right?" 

Kensington started shaking her shoulders again.  "What the hell are you talking about?  How can you say something like that?  You just put him through something unimaginable, and now you say 'it's okay because you're alive!'"

"No!" She shouted violently.  She brushed his hand off.  "That's what YOU said! That's exactly what you said back there! It's 'enough to be alive'.  You're the one who said that.  So how about it?  You saw what happened.  You saw what happened to Charming!  What I did to him? You SAW it Taylor! And you can say 'it's enough to be alive'?  Well, it isn't!"  She was sobbing heavily.  "It isn't.  No matter what you say.  I won't believe it!  It isn't enough to just have life.  You can't say that's living!"  Her voice became suddenly flat.  "Do you understand? Or don't you? Taylor, tell me.  How about you, Charming, do you understand?"

Her face was pointing down.  He couldn't see her expression.  He didn't have to.  He knew what it was.  Pamuya was now crying silently.  Countless tears fell from her face.  Like raindrops falling one by one on the red-stained floor of Qualle.   

He didn't know what to say.  No words were adequate.  "Do you know how many times I've died?" she asked suddenly.  She was trying to stay as calm as she could. 
"I have no idea."  He could scarcely move his lips as he replied.

"I don't remember anymore, anyway.  In the beginning there were said to be only a few of us carriers.  Out of all of them, I was special. 

"August 2250.   I was twelve at the time and my family lived in America.  A friend of mine then, Julia, she and I were the same age and she had to go to the hospital.  They said it was a terminal disease.  She was transferred back and forth between different places, but nobody could help her. 

"I kept going to see her, to keep up her spirits.  Watching her smiling face, I couldn't believe that she didn't have long to live.  I thought there would be a miracle. I thought if I prayed enough, she would get better.  If I cared enough, her pain and suffering would be less.  I believed that.

"Then one day, I got in an accident."

"Is that how you got the virus?" he asked.

"No," she replied.  Right after I left the hospital I got hit by a hover-truck.  Broken bones throughout my body, torn muscles everywhere.  I went into a coma.  I even stopped breathing.  It was hopeless.  But, for some reason, I didn't die.  A few months later, I woke up in an unfamiliar place. 

"I wondered where I was.  It was a hospital. I didn't know which one.  The person in the bed next to mine, a boy, didn't know either.  I told him my name, but he didn't know his.  I woke up next to a boy with amnesia.  Outside the window was unfamiliar scenery.   I was pretty sure it was still somewhere in America.  But in order to find out just where I was, it would take another eight years.

"I was there the whole time.  I was at that 'hospital'.  I never learned the name of the physician who attended me.  He said he was going to find a cure for my sickness and make me better.   I wondered what he was talking about.  I had been in an accident and wasn't sick.  He said it was different than that.  I had a new disease, one they had never seen before."

"The new disease, was that this virus?"

"Yes.   I don't know how I got it or when.  It was probably before I got in the accident.  I was already in the process of becoming 'immortal'.  The doctor took some of my blood.  He said it was to research a cure.  He said only a few people in the Federation had my disease, and of all of them I was special.  My genetic code was being rewritten.  I was the talk of the hospital.  I didn't understand so I had to accept his promises that they were going to make me better.

"They came to take blood samples again and again.  At the time, I didn't wonder why they would do that.   The doctors kept telling me it was so they could find a cure and help me and people like me.  The kid in the bed next to me, the one with amnesia, he and I talked.  He didn't have what I had.  He said he could see into the future. 

"He told me 'You are going to have many tragedies in your life, but I don't want you to be sad.  The first one in five years, then three years later, then another in five years.'  He went on and on.  'But you're going to live through all of them.'  It didn't take long for me to understand what he was saying, even at my young age.

"There were a cat and a mouse in the hospital too.  We wondered why they were there.   Their cages were so small.  We let them out.   Alarms sounded everywhere.  The doctors were all afraid the animals would bite them.  They were contagious.  They caught all of the animals again.  They were really mad at us.  They were trapped, locked up in small cages.  I wondered why. 

"I slowly began to realize why.   I began to understand, bit by bit, that I wasn't being kept at a hospital but at a research facility.  Nobody came to see me.  None of the 'patients' ever left.  There were hardly ever any new patients.  The whole time I never knew where I was.

"One day we came to see the animals and they were gone.  We hoped the researchers had felt sorry for them and let them go.  Then I overheard them talking.  'It's no good.  We still haven't been able to discover the reason or mechanism behind it.'  'It happened right in front of me, but I still can't believe it.'  The only explanation I can come up with is genetic transfer.  It goes against everything we know about science.'  'They withstood four splicings.  I think maybe they could take eight.'  'Let's keep testing.'  'There's no mistaking it.  They're still alive.  They might even still react at sixteen.'  'But, they're not…'  'They're not even living creatures any more, is that what you were going to say?'  'That way of thinking might have been correct under our old way of thinking.  We have no idea the possibilities this entails.'  'That's insane.'

"The next time, the mice were back.  There were more of them.  The cats had been sealed in boxes that I couldn't open.  That's the last time I was allowed in that lab.  That's what my life was like for eight years, day in and day out. 

"Every single day. The researcher called for me. He kept telling me 'I'm your friend'.  The truth is, he wasn't.  I was being forced to do all these tests and experiments.  They just used me like some tool.  I stopped being able to feel pain or to suffer.  When I went back to bed all I could do was cry.

"Then one day, the kid next to me didn't come back.  Taylor, do you know why?"

Kensington put his hand back on her shoulder.  "Yeah.  I mean no, but,…"

"So I don't have to explain it to you?" Her voice was almost a plea.

"Yeah.  If this is too painful for you, you don't have to say anymore."  Pamuya was stroking Charming with trembling fingers.  He couldn't imagine what it would have been like to go through what she had been through.

"I hate it," she said.  "And I hate myself for talking about it.  It's funny, isn't it?  Whenever I'm with you I find myself talking about the stupidest things."

"It's okay, you don't have to talk," he told her.  "I'm so sorry.  It was totally irresponsible what I said back there.  It was careless of me to talk about being alive like it's just a given."

"I don't want your pity.  It's too late."

"It isn't like that," he protested.  "It isn't like that.  Pamuya, I was wrong."

Suddenly she was screaming again.  "You were wrong?  Don't tell me that!  You don't just take back what you say.  Not that easily!  You want irresponsible, that's irresponsible!"

He didn't know what to tell her. 

"You're just like them," she said accusingly.  "You don't understand anything.  You throw around words like friend without really meaning it.  You don't understand anything about how I'm feeling.  You don't understand anything about what the kid's feeling." 

She made him feel like it was a mistake just to say he was wrong.  He realized that wasn't true.  The truth was there was no right or wrong. 

She kept on screaming at him.  "People who are alive should live as long as they can.  You said that didn't you?  I'll survive.  I'll probably die many times more and I'll still be alive.  Charming here, too.  Taylor, can you say you're really alive right now? Are you really there in front of me now?  What's wrong?  You said you'd accept everything I had to say. You said that, right Taylor?"

 She bit her lip.  Her shoulders were shaking.  She looked bitterly disappointed.  Disappointed that when she tried to live she ended up dying and when she tried to die she ended up living.  It was a process that repeated itself over and over without end.  It wasn't right or wrong.  It was her reality.  It was something she had no choice but to accept.  He wasn't able to accept it. 

"This is so stupid," she said.  "I'm stupid.  But you know what?  You're way stupider than me."  The gondola swayed.  They had arrived again at the end of the ride.  He had no idea how many times they had passed through by Qualle. 

The door opened suddenly.  She had quickly risen and opened the door.  "Pamuya," he called out and grabbed at her hand but she swatted him away immediately.

"Don't touch me!  Don't touch me."  She slammed the door shut from the outside.  The gondola he was riding started moving again. 

"Stupid," he said to the gondola.  "Stupid idiot."  He said it to himself.  He said it to her.  He said it to nothing and to no one in particular.  To everything.  Outside the window was the ocean, an ocean closed off from light.  When he passed under the shadow of the installation, the gondola became dark.  Inside of the darkness, alone in the darkness, Captain Taylor 'Samurai' Kensington bit hard down on his lip and cried.

When he came to the conference room at night, Dr. Young, Medea, and Ryogo were waiting there.  Ryogo seemed to have calmed down somewhat.  Dr. Young and Medea seemed to have been able to talk some sense into him after Kensington had left.  Dr. Young explained that Ryogo had probably become upset by a recurring memory and had gotten worked up in spite of himself.  Kensington felt that he too had gotten out of hand and said some terrible things.  He went around the table and apologized to each of them. 

Soon after a report came to the conference room via the terminal to NeVAEH.   Dr. Young read out the contents to all of them.  The isolated section of the third floor where he had seen the whale-like creature had flooded completely.  The flooding had been contained to that room only, so the generator and the pipe room were still safe.  Shivering slightly from the cold, Kensington wrapped his arms around his knees.  They all went to sleep.