Prison Mountain

by Scott Hilkene

Somehow, someway, my next vision was not of the dark cave, but a blurry reddish-yellow light all around me. Blinking, my vision slowly and painfully improved. A small room slowly came into focus. Walls that curved at the floors and base of the walls, pipes flowed all around. I could make out many different colored lights around me that looked like panels of instruments at first, but the images sharpened to objects floating in midair. One of which was a figure of a person in blue with numbers displayed on its head and chest. Looking around further, other fuzzy images evolved into more strange things that whirled around and beeped softly. The walls were bronze in color reflecting only the warm light that made the room appear larger than it felt. What I thought were pipes, were conduits running vertical and horizontal for the length of the room. They were elegant, brassy and curved. The entire room flowed in curves like a futuristic cave.

  A light switched on and I was immediately aware of my body floating upright on a circular panel below me. I tried to step forward, but my leg simply moved outwards and did not carry my weight forward. Feeling behind me, I placed my hands against the warm metal wall and pushed backwards. Some wires attached to my body stretched, pulling my skin as I hit the floor. I tried to recall if I was really this clumsy.

  The room was more in focus and I could see that my body was hooked up to a weird monitor that displayed a holographic image of my body, checking various vitals and what looked like healing rates in percentages next to each of my wounds. The wires did not penetrate my skin, so those were gone in a few seconds. Something lit up in front of me whizzing around, dim colored lights blinking angrily. Shooing it, I stood up and inspected my arms and legs. Unbelievably, everything healed while I slept, except my skin was still rougher than it should have been. Realization then hit that I was standing in a strange place in a pair of boxers that were skin tight and made of a fabric I did not recognize. The feeling that someone had actually undressed me left me feeling exposed and vulnerable, but suddenly alive in the further epiphany that I was no longer alone.

  “Hel-lo?”

  Coughing and wheezing as a part of something dislodged from my throat and again lodged itself in a worse spot prevented me from speaking properly. I tried several more times, but nothing came out. My fists, balled up in anger, I hated everything that was me. But I could not stay there, had to keep moving. Walking to the entrance and looking down the dimly lit hall, I could see the rest of this place had the same flowing and curved bronze colored walls.

  Taking two steps forward and turning right, I was face to face with a white, glowing apparition. Its face was inches from mine and it stared at me, curiously, slightly tilting her head. My breath was gone and my chest shocked tight.

  After a moment she smiled at my surprise. The smile was so beautiful and serene I melted into myself and my stomach knotted up. I was instantly queasy and curious. I knew this was a spirit, there was just no question, but her features were so clear. From the old movies, one would expect a ghost to be opaque and misty, or even invisible, but a recognizable face was intriguing. Exquisitely beautiful as any woman could ever be, her flowing white clothes were a part of her and flowed outward as though in a steady wind. If there were angels, she was as I envisioned them to be. Reading my mind, she looked bashful as she made a slight movement and two sleek wings appeared from either side of her.

  A state of total awe took over as my inquisitive nature needed to know more, but my damn mouth would not work. Looking away was impossible had it not been so long since I heard another human voice.

  “Whoa there!” A deep, gruff voice came at me from behind me down the other side of the dark corridor. A shadowy figure limped slightly as it closed in. “You're supposed to be in bed now healing. I heard the commotion she was making from you smacking 'round the med-quip. What are ya doin'?” I continued to stare into the darkness as he moved forward. As the large figure cleared the space between lights his crusty appearance increased in size. The man's waist was the first thing I noticed, an astronomic belly that preceded him. Then, a jovial looking face, lined with experience, eyebrows reaching to heaven and a full head of black hair, long and unkempt. His eyes were alarmingly black without any color at all, just like the mountain. Still coming at me and without warning, he yelled, “WELL?” so loud he made me jump back into a dry cold behind me that made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.

  “Captain Issolar.” he said. “You?”

  I shook my head, an answer that I could not respond.

  “What?” he responded, taking a step closer with a sideways glare that said he had thought I refused to answer.

  I tried to speak again and was still painful and difficult.

  “Ja-... Ja-nus.” Embarrassed by the weakness, I wanted to stand up straight, instead of looking down at the floor.

  “Janus? Well, it is good to see you off that med-quip finally.”

  The great bear of a man held out a large paw for me to shake. I took it up and found my strength back enough for a passable handshake while I kept eye contact. He continued to look at me disturbingly sideways with those black eyes.

  “From?” he inquired simply.

  “Here, I think,” I whispered so I would not hurt my throat.

  “Here means what... er, exactly?” he asked, still pressing his glare.

  “Where am I now?”

  “On my ship.”

  I was relieved and let my guard down for a moment. There was a ship sailing the ocean and the image of a sea where there was once land was not so disturbing if there were people sailing it.

  He continued, “When I found you, you were so damaged, I should have left you on the Cursed Mountain. Would have saved me so much trouble. Do you know how close I was to dying myself just to save your signal?”

  He continued to glare so long I wondered if he expected me to answer or thank him. I found myself wondering if learning what he had meant by my signal would be prudent.

  Before I could do either, a boy's voice called “Who is that?” from the same direction the Captain had come. As he walked towards us the reddish hue of the reddish reflected light from the metal walls of the corridor illuminated his boyish features from one side to the other. He was in dark again until he reached us and the next light.

  “So, who is this? I didn't know we had a passenger aboard,” he said with an innocent voice, close enough to see he was a man, but very young and must have never fought a day in his life. His expression gave the opposite impression as his eyes narrowed severely when he looked at me. In his gray hooded zip-up sweatshirt and Converse sneakers, he reminded me sharply of my youth.

  “Well, you see...” the Captain said, thankfully shifting his position and massaging his head in an awkward motion.

  “Yes?” he asked the Captain, but still eying me which annoyed me quite a lot.

  “Come on Anton, you know we had no passengers leaving Centauri.” The Captain turned to me with a warm smile and with all the gentle coolness of an old lady in church said, “What is your name again?”

  “Janus,” I replied, looking at the Captain sideways. Centauri sounded like an odd name; something from a long time ago I could not place.

  “Janus,” said the Captain, I expected a bow, but he was too doughty for that. “The pleasure is all yours. Do you believe in fate?”

  Anton was still looking like an innocent youngster, but he would not take his eyes from me. He leaned forward slightly, opened his mouth, but retreated from it. But, the Captain was talking about fate and that was more than I wanted to admit at the time. Speaking carefully and quietly so I did not hurt my voice, I whispered, “Fate is something I do not believe in Captain, but I do appreciate the rescue. Where was it you found me?”

  “Just speak normally. Your voice will return.”

  My voice still cracking slightly, “O-kay, but wh-ere?”

  “Cursed Mountain.”

  I could feel the corridor get hot.

  �
��A mountain?”

  “Aye, we reported you to our base on B12 via Centari, but have yet to receive a response. Been a few now, they should have replied.”

  “A few? How long have I been out?” A few sounded like minutes or hours which was relieving. It still seemed strange to me that I had actually slept. It had been a long, long time.

  “Oh, not that long. You're a strong one. The med-quip we have is not the latest, but it got you healed up in a few weeks, surprisingly.” The captain guessed what I had turned around to look for because he leaned into my vision and said, “Doesn't stay in one place too long, that one. She'll be back. You hungry?”

  “What?” I said. The thought of food was foreign and it all came flooding back. Where I was, what was going on, not a mere deathly dream, but alive and awake. A stranger in a strange land, so the saying goes. I was lost, but once again amongst my own.

  “Food. You remember that now. Been that long for... Hey, you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, but not fine at all. “Did you say a few weeks? What the hell is the date anyway? And...” Feeling sick, I tasted stomach and put my hand on the metal wall of the corridor. Food and speech was definitely the furthest things I needed.

  “Come on,” Anton said. “You need to sit down. The mess hall is right down there and we can pick up some clothes on the way.”

  Anton shifted next to me, putting an arm under my shoulder for support. I noticed he wore gloves that were battered and meant to ask him about those. He was deceivingly strong for his age and had no problem supporting me the length of the corridor to a small closet. Anton told the computer to supply clothes, and to my surprise, a blue light shone on a panel that extended from the wall and a loose fitting white shirt without a collar appeared from nothing. Then a pair of blue jeans and black boots with socks emerged. I was in awe and Anton only smiled as I got dressed.

  “Fit okay?” he asked.

  I nodded my confirmation and we left for the mess hall. The trip was short, but time slowed down when I was in my own thoughts. The boy next to me was something of a spectacle. He reminded me so much of myself, but yet something was different. I could not put my finger on it. How did he get on board this ship? How did I for that matter? The Captain was hiding something. And a ghost?

  Everything was shattered. Everything has gone by so fast and I have no idea if I was transported to that mountain or had it really been that long... A computer that supplied clothes as needed? Pushing the thought from me, I felt alone without being alone as a large part of me was ripped out and taken hostage somewhere I could never find. It had to be her, what she did to me. The partner I never wanted. Somehow, I knew that she was still not aware of me gone. I rationalized that if she had known there would not have been peace while I slept.

  What I knew then and what continued to haunt me was the way my emotions had a barrier. I wanted to rage and hate, but I could not. I was too accepting of reality. It was not like me at all. That, above all else, scared me.

  The mess hall was a small, but open space. Large enough for two cooks and about a dozen people to eat at once. The walls were the same as the med room and corridors, but the light was cooler and brighter. This also had to be the only place without clutter about the floor. Anton sat me at the closest table and went into the kitchen area.

  “So what will it be?”

  “Arr, don't let this ill-fated man o' da mountain decide what he be havin' for a meal,” the Captain cut in with a horrible pass for a pirate accent.

  “Really? Is it too hard to let go of it?” Anton asked.

  “Ya be so brash ta be telling da Captain o' this vessel what be done and not done. Away wit ya, tend da sickly man yonder. Now, you be havin' some o' that thar meat n' bread. Might do wit a spot of me best wine. Yes, thar be some good eatin' n' easy on the nerves for da small appetite ya likely ta be havin'.”

  I was glad when he stopped. A second later a tray was being pushed to me with what looked like an odd shaped steak and bread with butter. It smelled awful, but my stomach still rumbled for it. I needed a napkin to wipe my mouth just inspecting it. But I may have vomited at the thought of eating anything.

  “There, drink the small cup first. That's for your stomach. Tastes like fruit if you know what that is. Er...,” he said, turning away quickly. “Some bread and meat anyway, but the meat is not real. Can't tell the difference though, not anymore and it is better for you.”

  “Is it soy? I heard everything was going to be ma-...,” I said, but finished in a coughing fit.

  “Soy? Hmm. Not sure what that is.”

  I shot him an incredulous look and he turned away. Something was way off and my trust was thin.

  “Yeah, well, the wine is good anyway and it's very old.” And with that he left.

  ~