[writing] Project Epsilon - Chapter Four

[djtenku]

Title: Big Sea
Word Count: 2698
Summary: Exploration. Drop. Inadequate.

Exploring the mansion, Shin decided, was beginning to sound like a bad idea, especially after seeing that child. Orion did warn about her, but she couldn’t shake off the air she emitted and the words she said. If she was right, that meant that Rowan was somewhere around here in this plac e– there was no way that she known about that fact about him, and that Kento should be somewhere too, tonight even. The more she thought about it, the more she was preturbed. Audra did claim that they’ll meet again soon, but…

“All that I said, will come true.”

No, you can’t believe that, Shin said with a shake of her head. Not until there’s absolute evidence. She stopped, and placed a hand on the small of her back. Her feet were aching and already she was feeling the fringes of exhaustion. It didn’t feel like time passed; the sun was now beginning to set, washing the long halls with a deep orange. It was strange that she hadn’t encountered  anyone else except the odd domestic or two in rooms she passed.

“Ms. Shina?”

Shin glanced up, and at the end of the hall and in the beginning of the grand foyer, there was a woman in a ill-fitting maid’s uniform, hands knitted together in front her and bowed, slightly unraveling the short scarf around her neck.  “Oh, there you are… Mister Orion has summoned me. I’m your servant.”

Shin’s eyes widened. “My servant? But -”

“Now, now,” the woman said, taking her hand and leading Shin up the steps. “You’re the lady of the house now, you shouldn’t have to lift up a finger. Dinner will be ready in about an hour, so I’ll draw your bath and help get you ready. ” Her voice was strange to Shin, how it occasionally ebbed and tide. There was a twinge of accent unfamiliar to her. But what did she mean by lady of the house?

The humid air tapered off enough for the windows to be opened in the bedroom, and the balcony’s double doors to be ajar. “How do you like your water, Ms. Shina?” she asked, holding multiple towels in her hands, peaking out of the bathroom door.

“I’m actually partial to hot water, uhm…”

“Vivika,” the maid replied with a smile.

“Vivika. But, I have to take it lukewarm.”

Vivika disappeared, and raising her voice over the running water, “That’s a bit unusual, but I can understand…it’s good for the pores, and good for that beautiful skin of yours. The secret of youth – I’m quite jealous to be honest.” She emerged from the bathroom, still smiling, bright left blue eye shining in the warm light, while the other was a deep blue, cold.

Shin fidgeted under the woman’s gaze, her face growing hot. “Oh, it’s not something to get worked over, trust me,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Vivika crooned. She placed her hands on her shoulders. “I’ve got the perfect dress for you; the water’s all ready. I promise it won’t be long.”

“Take your time.” Shin watched the maid with an wary eye as she exited her room, her gaze lingering a second longer than she wanted to. First, the girl, and now this? If she didn’t know any better, she was – “No, can’t be,” she muttered, entering the light-marbled bathroom. She spotted a large clawfoot tub in the center of four columns, with small steps on the side, the aroma of lavender in the air.

Before she dipped her leg in, she locked the door and checked twice.

* * *

The mighty beast from within was so ravenous that it demanded food from his lean body, slowly eating away at sinews and at his own strength. Claws raked and scratched at his mind and temples, and pain squeezed on him just enough to feel it and let him be for a few moments before returning.

That damned animal…

Twilight was already over by the time he arrived at the mansion – and the beginnings of dinner, his nose discovered. He sighed. Eating fauna and wild flora was only going to get him so far, but he vowed never to return, enticed by real food or not.

He glanced at the balcony, and raised an eyebrow when he spotted the doors wide open and the room itself lit. None of the detail were around. Or, maybe they were hidden. His cloak flowed out behind him as he dashed across the lawn, sticking to the long shadows, and clambered up the vines, mildly surprised that they didn’t snap.

The fragrance of lavender was so strong, it almost overpowered him. There would’ve been nothing to upheave, and he frowned at the reminder that he hadn’t eaten in almost a week. He looked over to the canopy bed – its smooth covers slightly wrinkled, and he wondered why there were so many pillows stacked on top of it. His head swiveled to the bathroom door as the knob jiggled and became slightly ajar.

“Oh, no,” he managed. Sage Ariel just stood there, staring at a woman clad in terrycloth robe with wide, hidden eyes. She stared back with equal intensity. “Wait!” he exclaimed, holding a hand up. He didn’t expect himself to sound so hoarse. “I’m not one of them.”

Her stare softened, but her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?” Her voice was round and strangely mellow.

“It’s exactly what  I mean. I won’t harm you. They will.” The woman was clearly taken aback, and lightly nodded looking thoughtful. “You can chose whether to trust me or not.” Sage gave her the once over as she passed by and sat on the edge of the bed facing him.

“Who are you?” There was a look of light skepticism on her face, but otherwise calm. Good.

“Sage,” he replied evenly. He paused. Why should I ask her? “Yours?”

“Shina. How old are you?”

The number never occurred to him. He deemed it useless after he escaped. “Fourteen. I think.” The woman’s brows raised.

“Well, Sage,” Shina said, “give me one good reason I should trust you.”

Sage sighed profoundly, and approached her. He paused as he moved away dark strands away from his face and held her gaze for a few moments.

Shin covered her mouth when she inhaled sharply. The boy’s face was grimy with dirt and who-knows-what else, but his dark, violet eyes looked back at her. However, his pupils were not round at all, but thin slits under the room’s light. “How-- ”

“It’s a very long story, Shina,” he told her. “I’m surprised you haven’t been brainwashed yet. You’ve met Audra, right?” The woman nodded with fervor. “What she’s doing now, that’s only the start; there’s no telling what she can do next. She can cause pleasant dreams or nightmares so real, it has drove some to suicide.”

“Some? There’s other people here?”

Sage nodded. “I wouldn’t even call them that. We’re people – we still have thought and we can control ourselves. They’re…” He fell silent. “You have to get out of here. How, that’s up to you. When or if that day comes, go southeast, over the mountains and into the jungle and onto the second set. I’ll keep watch for you. Until then, guard yourself…and your child.” He started for the balcony until a warm hand gripped his wrist.

“Won’t you stay for dinner? You look hungry.”

“I can’t,” he said darkly. He pulled free and she followed him out to the balcony.

“How about I’ll leave you some, out here?” Sage looked up at her. She was smiling, but it was a faint one. “I’ll… make up something to get extra food, whatever it is. It’s the least I can do for you telling me. Right here.” Shin pointed to the part of the cement rail, next to the vines. “I’ll wrap it up real good, alright?”

Sage’s eyes widen, and he began to say something else but, he nodded anyway. Shin watched him as he flitted into the brush nearby. She began to wonder why the boy came in the first place, as she turned to go back in, the main door was already open with Vivika singing, “I hope you’re decent!”

-

 Orange light filled the small circular window next to the seat, blanketing most of the pocket of clouds and the far stretching archipelago in the peculiar light. One of the crewmembers told him of the ideal vacation weather – eighty-four degrees farenheit with light winds, but the humidity was at an uncomfortable ninety percent, and somewhere, an impeding storm on the way.

Kento gave his thanks, and continued to listen to the soft and hollowed conversations of the crews, adjusting the mask for what it seemed like the ninth time, still getting used to breathing pure oxygen, even though twenty minutes passed since then. They always reminded him of the times he was incapacitated. What was it for again? Something about nitrogen buildup and another about hypoxia. It sounded like a wicked case of some disease.

“Alright, we’re about ten minutes from the DZ, sir,” the pilot called out. “Make sure everything is secure!”

Ten minutes, great.

Kento tightened the straps at his shoulders and gloves, and the straps that belonged to the prepared parachute, moving towards the back hatch, and glancing up at the solitary light. He shook his head at some of the thoughts that surfaced. Now’s not the time to be freaking out like this, he told himself. Remember what the note said.

“Seven minutes!” sang the pilot. “De-pressurization complete.” The light turned into a light green, blinking twice. There was a low sound of metal slowly giving way, and Kento realized that the hatch popped loose, lowering to revel the world below. Cold air rushed in. What did it say? Fear is the mindkiller… “There’s a slight breeze coming from the south, but you should drop like a rock!”

Like a rock, great.

Kento turned at the small group that gathered to see him off, for some words of encouragement, but all he got was, “Just take ten deep breaths!” from a petite woman. He nodded, and turned to look back straight into the sky. As he stood only a step away from the edge, he closed his eyes, and shut everything out except.

One.

There was no doubt in his mind his sliver of the world was on his shoulders, and perhaps bigger than that, under such conditions and urgency.

Two.

It was truly self-questioning, and the fear he could die. But why now? What about the other times? No, this was different…

Three.

They’re very capable people, he reminded himself. It was just a matter of their circumstances; Kento only hoped Shina and Rowan will find each other and collaborate. Knowing both of them, that was probably happening right now. Whoever has them now, damn them, are still figuring out what to do with them.

Four.

And what of you? he asked himself.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Me?

Nine.

Don’t worry.

Ten. He leaned forward, calm, and disappeared from the crew’s sight, head first. As Kento broke through the thin sheets of clouds, his limbs – he thought – felt heavier, but his mind dismissed it as a simple thing called  gravity and speed. It was a lot different by himself, the muffled wind sounded threatening instead of a sweet whisper.

The island below increased in size, a green mishaped dot in the ocean. He straightened himself out and glanced at the altimeter; his eye widened in dismay. It had remained at 36,000ft. His calm demeanor held itself; Kento pulled at the ripcord, bracing himself for the sudden force and the slowing of decent. He looked at the meter again, this time a small red light blinking next to the numbers. The outer fringes of what vision he had left were defocusing and narrowing into darkness, and his airway closing up and burning. Kento fought the urge to rip off the mask and craned his neck up. The cords were twisted up, and the only tool to fix it was stowed away in his kit. The island was larger but it was beginning to be stretching away from him.

He ripped away the main chute and seconds later deployed the smaller, reserve chute. His hand pryed the half mask away and discarded the useless oxygen tank, letting it plummet into the ocean. For all that’s holy, please don’t make me swim that-

Kento looked up as he heard the sound of fabric stretching and coming apart, and before he could scream out a curse, water rushed around and encompassed him. He unbuckled the harness that attached him to his bag and kicked until he broke the clear surface, gulping air and salt water; he watched the parachute drift elsewhere and land in the water nearby, never to be seen again. Moments passed as he regained his composure, gazing at the shape of the island. So much trouble just to get to it already, and I haven’t stepped a foot on it yet, he thought.

The distance – or so his depth perception judged – was not all that great, which did give him hope he was going to get out of the water a lot quicker, and silently hoped whatever lived in the water wasn’t curious enough to come his way. To his luck, the waves were pushing him and the bag he placed in front as a floatation device along, coasting. Some colorful fish decided to join him, but suddenly scattered. Kento looked ahead just in time to see a fin disappear into a wave. “Oh, you’ve got to be - ”

A long shadow passed beneath him, and bumped into his foot as it passed. Kento wasted no time paddling with his free sore arm and the other wrapped around the bag; the shadow returned along with its fin, almost taking the bag with it, as if it sensed his weakness. And the only feasible chance he had against the shark was inside the kit itself. Another nudge, this time his leg. It was only a matter of –

The shark’s head rose from the choppy water, flashing rows of long, sharp, and impossibly large teeth before disappearing again. Kento began to push the bag ahead of him, but the flightsuit was fully saturated and dragged him down every few bobs. The shark came around again, snout up and fin wagging back and forth at a strange angle. He pushed the kit in its general direction, and watched in dismay as it skimmed across the water before going under.

His mind snapped to and he flailed his limbs forward towards the growing shoreline. He glanced back to see the bag stop just to the left of him ahead. There’s got to be –

Kento went under, and shot back to the surface, feeling the beginnings of sand beneath his boots and mashed down on it, moving faster than he afford to. He scoped up the mangled bag and ran for it, tripping up on his own feet and landed face first in sand and laid there for several moments before getting up again, brushing himself off.

The bag was in atrocious condition; the rest of its contents spilled out as he held it up, two very small rations and the sole weapon, the knife. He was without substantial food, shelter, and guidance. “Just great,” he muttered, looking back at the ocean. “Just fucking great.” Kento fought the urge to bellow every curse he knew as he removed the flightsuit and discarded it along with the mauled bag. But it could’ve been a lot worse, he reminded himself.

The rations took home in a side pocket, while he strapped the knife to his left thigh. The sun casted a wrong red glow that washed over the mountains and the landscape that he could see. He made it a point to go towards there, to gain something of a vantage point and – if anything else didn’t go wrong – it would take him the whole night under the moon and darkness.

With that in mind, he disappeared into the thick brush of the jungle.