*
Alza awoke, feeling better than she ever had before. Her body felt light, as if she had just awoken from a decade long nap. Even though the dream was already fading, the sense of peace remained. The name of the strange girl still shone in her mind, “Amber.” Even if the name had been fake, her words had been real. “If she is someone from my past... then I have to find out more about her. If I know her, then she might know who I am... and if I have a family.”
Deciding that she would not discover anything more about Amber by lying around, Alza got to her feet. For a brief moment, she stared at the occupants of the room. Kingston was fast asleep in his bedding, but he looked anything but peaceful. His old eyes were shut tight, and his hands were clenched into fists. Creeping closer, she heard him mutter, “My son... my precious son... forgive me... please forgive me...” Ignoring his meaningless words, Alza turned and headed towards the door.
Along the way, she passed by Maloch, who was sitting rigidly by the wall. His yellow eyes were dim, and his body motionless. A heartbeat later, she came to Barsch. Although he had been charged with their safety, his eyes were closed, and his breathing indicated sleep. He looked tired, as if he had not slept at all. Amber had called him 'cute', but Alza could just not see it.
“Wake up.” No response.
“Barsch, it's time to change shifts.” But the sleeping teenager refused to awaken. Alza was stumped. Anything louder might wake the others. Finally, she made up her mind. Taking a seat near the sleeping Barsch, she began her silent watch.
Two hours later, Kingston awoke to find them both sleeping. Alza's head had slid down to Barsch's shoulder, and had decided to stay there. He decided not to disturb their rare moment of synchronicity, and instead found a sturdy seat atop a box and waited for dawn.
“Barsch, Alza... to be so young, and have to endure so much. They should not be here, not like this. If things had been different, if we had not polluted our planet to this extent, would they have been able to live normal lives? No, their childhood is not yet over. There is still time to fix this, to give them a place where they can act like normal children. If I can do that, if I can give them a peaceful future, I’ll do anything...”
Another two hours passed. With no rising sun to herald the coming day, the group were forced to make do with Maloch waking them on time. As he awoke, Kingston's body began its ancient struggle between his old, worn bones and his iron resolve. His body cried out for another hour's rest, while his mind fought feverishly to get a good start to the day. Twenty years ago, his mind would have won with little difficulty, but old age and weary muscles were making that extra nap-time sound more and more favourable. With a grunt of exertion and a muted curse, Kingston managed to stand.
As he stood, Kingston heard a soft squeal from the direction of the door. Turning to the exit, he was just in time to catch the joint look of happiness and horror fly across Barsch's face. The boy had awoken with his face mere inches away from Alza's, who was strangely still asleep. Kingston watched as the look of happiness fought the terror, until finally, a truce was made. Keeping his face carefully neutral, Kingston wandered over to the pair, just as Barsch began trying to slip away. Easing his shoulder out from under Alza's sometimes angelic face, he was half-way to freedom when she awoke.
For a moment, Kingston wondered if she would attack Barsch, or at the very least give him a scathing word or two. But, in the first miracle of the day, she did neither. She merely looked at him, then at Kingston, and finally at Barsch again, before rubbing her eyes and saying, “We should get going. Tell the re-mech.”
The look on Barsch's face told Kingston that the boy had been expecting anything but that statement. For a moment, Barsch merely stared at her, mouth agape, before his brain kicked in and told him to stop. Shaking his head in confusion, the youth turned away and strode towards the Maloch.
After Barsch had left, Kingston said, “Well, that was kind of you.”
Alza, who had been readying her things for departure, turned and said, with a blank look, “Kindness? If you think that what I did was kindness, then you are greatly mistaken. I merely selected the most efficient course of action available to me. Anything else would have been time-consuming, like this conversation.”
After giving her reasons, Alza turned back to packing her things, leaving Kingston to mull over her words. “Time-consuming? True, that could have been her reason, but... it doesn't feel right. I think, that the Alza I talked to in my hut would not have acted like that. It's almost like... something changed in her, in the night... True, Barsch did say that he had noticed a change in her recently, but not to this extent! Well, whatever the reason, as long as she's not a threat to Barsch, I'm fine with it. And if she is… then I’ll use everything in my power to make her wish she wasn’t.”
Ten minutes later, everyone was packed and ready to leave. After making sure that no traps had been laid while they slept, they left the storage room behind and headed down the corridor. Mercifully, they encountered no malignant A.I. or hidden traps, and as such they began to relax a little, with Maloch even stating that his previous assertion of Guardian's plan might have been wrong. An hour passed, with no change in their surroundings, save for the occasional side-corridor or storage room. Like a funeral procession, no one spoke, save for Maloch's re-affirmations of their destination and direction. Eventually, they came to a room, slightly larger than the storage room where they had spent the night. From its grey walls, three more corridors branched off, to the West, East and North.
The room was bare, except for a steel-bolted table in the centre. Upon it, they discovered a poorly drawn map, which had most likely been left behind by a careless Station engineer. The map, having spent more than two decades out in the open, was not in the best condition, but it was legible. Using his multi-spectrum eyes, along with a processor that would put a super-computer to shame, Maloch decoded the map.
“This map appears to show the main sub-sectors nearby, with highlighted routes on how to get there. If I am correct, then we are currently located west of the central hub room, in a small engineer's nest. If we take the west facing path, we should be able to reach the cavern's entrance. However, this path runs through several sub-stations, many of which will be controlled by Guardian. Although I would normally suggest we take an alternate route, with the limited amount of information available to me, I cannot plot one. Even if we were to take the north or east paths, I cannot be sure that we will reach our destination.”
“I see,” said Kingston, “So we can either take the route directly to the exit, and risk facing Guardian at every turn, or we can hope and pray that one of the other routes will get us there. If that's the case, I think we should go with what we know. If we take the direct route, at least we will know what to expect, and we can prepare for Guardian's traps.”
“So what's the first sub-station on the western route?” asked Barsch, walking around the table.
“The Station's Water Treatment and Purification Plant. Where water is sent to be purified after being used as coolant for the generator.”
“Ah, water treatment you say? I don't think I have to remind everyone of our recent catastrophes involving water.” Barsch had always been good at pattern recognition, and he had already vowed to never cross another bridge in his life. He hoped that he could avoid adding any kind of water to that list.
“It'll be fine, Barsch m'boy! We know Guardian's tricks now, so we'll be ready in case he tries anything. Now, we have our route, so let's not waste any-more time.”
As they were leaving, Barsch whispered to himself, “Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you…”
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