Beyond the Horizon

44. Movement

Nezumi awoke in a new cage.

          At first he thought it was just another of the unrelenting nightmares that had plagued him since he came to the Lab. Those that visited him while he was battered and drugged in the infirmary revolved specifically around being trapped. He often dreamt of small, cramped rooms, or impenetrable darknesses from which he could find no exit and no relief.

          However, the cold bite of metal against his back, and the deep ache in his ribs told him that he was not asleep. But the view from where he sat, crumpled and aching, looked like some sort of fever dream.

          Rows and rows of bleach-colored desks with silver accents spanned out before him. The desks had tiered glass shelving constructed above them, and every bit of shelf was crowded with little brown bottles, translucent vials, and large opaque jugs with red and blue and green caps. Every other flat surface was equally cluttered with laptops, microscopes, and varied stark white machines whose uses Nezumi could only guess at.

          Men and women in white lab coats scurried back and forth between the desks, or rolled past on tiny black stools. Nezumi could see their mouths moving, but the noise was warbly, as though it were distorted underwater.

          Nezumi shifted, clenching his jaw against the screaming protest of his bruised body, and looked around himself. He was no longer in a glass box, but a metal one, with thin latticed bars and barely enough room for him to sit with his legs stretched out. Nezumi was too sore and groggy to stand, but even if he could, there was no way the ceiling was high enough for him to do so. He could probably manage a kneel with a bit of space. The cage smelled of urine and animal fear. Nezumi had spent enough nights sequestered in barns and abandoned dens to know the scents intimately.

          His stomach churned with hatred and disgust.

          He had been stuffed into a literal animal's cage, likely a primate's, since that was the only animal used in medical testing that was comparable to a human's size. The floor beneath his hands was uneven and dusty. The cage had not been used for some time, and had obviously been cleaned since its previous occupant's removal, but there was no way to erase the stink of prolonged fear. Its painful history ached in Nezumi's head, an insidious accompaniment to his physical hurts.

          How'd he end up here? Nezumi squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think back.

          He remembered that fluttery man—Nosuke Hishimoto, was it?—coming in to tell him they planned to remove him from Rashi's jurisdiction and place him into Section F. After that, he had dozed. Lab Coat came to give him another check up some time later. The doctor's mood had been excited, frenzied. He barely seemed to be paying attention to Nezumi or his injuries, though he confirmed Nezumi had cracked a rib on his right side when Nezumi pushed him for an answer.

          After that he remembered...nothing. He must have been dosed with something so they could move him. Now that he was digging around for hints, Nezumi had a vague recollection of waking several times, only to fall back under.

          Was this Section F, then? Why was it a laboratory and not a prison block? It was obviously not outfitted to keep superhuman prisoners like Section M was. Nezumi opened his eyes and glanced around the room. There were other cages of varying sizes, but not a single one was proportioned for humans, so this was not an older cell block. This was literally a defunct animal testing area.

          What the fuck?

          A clear glass pane separated the cage area from the lab proper, which was why the voices were muffled. Nezumi leered through the window until, finally, one of the lab techs noticed. The man stopped dead in his tracks, the vial he was swirling going still in his grip, though the pink liquid inside continued to rotate around the glass. He turned his head and said something to the girl at the nearest desk and she glanced back. They exchanged an annoyed, uncertain sort of expression and rifled around in their pockets. They pulled out small, pink earbuds and crammed them into their ears.