Subject 3033...(BWAM, Sci-fi Romance, 18+)

Chapter Ten

'A Dewei Piece is a tiny electronic device attached to one's skin used to convey and transmit information, make and receive calls as well as to scan one's surroundings.'

In the early hours of yester morning, Noe departed, had an emergency to tend to -so he said to me. According to message he'd received via the dewei piece that's always plastered on the back of his ear, five more survivors were sited outside the valley making their way towards the surrounding mountains.

Since willing soldiers are always stationed atop the peeks of the mountains to patrol, it became easier to detect signs of life outside the valley. So, Noe left, asked that I should faithfully continue with our training sessions even in his absentia. The fact that he is ever so willing, always putting others before himself makes him all the more admirable an individual.

Now, now I tread down semi-crowded 'streets' towards my nurse's 'home'. She'd said to me that I could always visit her. And so, here I stand. I reach for her doors and rap knuckles against metal barriers. One second, two seconds, three seconds. Then, door glides open and the tiny head of blonde little girl picks through from below.

"Are you here to see my Nana?" Comes her voice so small, so tender, her eyes of a rare amethyst wide and gazing with curiosity.
"Yes, darling. My name is Harlow. May I come in?"
Her little curls bounce upon her shoulders whilst she nods. She hops back inside, sings to herself whilst she does, sits herself by the floors and continues to colour on her drawing.
"Joella, who is it?" The nurse's voice inquires.

Her head lifts and her eyes sweep from drawing to barren peach walls. 
"It's Harlow," she calls back, proceeds from where she'd left off only seconds ago.
Finally, source of voice makes an appearance, pads into the living room chamber with basket spewing with laundered garment clutched to her side.

"Oh, Harlow. What are you doing standing by the doors. Come on in, make yourself comfortable," her voice is soothing as she urges me.
Gliding doors shut, I take off my boots and proceed for the sofa where I perch myself.
"How have you been, Harlow? You were wounded the last I saw you," she begins, takes hold of tiny shirt from inside the basket and folds it neatly.

"I have been well, nurse. My wound is healed though sometimes I do feel a mild stinging."
"It's only normal that the pain should stick around even after the skin is all sealed up. Gamma burns do kill after all," and as she speaks and folds, I can only nod head in understanding.
"Nurse, may I ask you something?"
She looks upon me, rests folded garment upon yet another folded garment, anticipates.

"Go ahead, Harlow."
"Why did you save me? Why did you help me escape?" I inquire, my vision occasionally perusing my surroundings curiously.
She halts entirely in her hand movements, looks down upon the little girl Joella, motions for her to leave us. And the little one is quick to obey -takes her crayons with her and pitter-patters into a different chamber.

Turning to face upon me, woman inhales sharply, exhales slowly.
"Harlow, I knew your mother. Before they executed her, she'd asked me to assist you, begged me, pleaded, made me promise. Aside from that, I felt pity for your state, pity at how they'd treated you more like a tool and less like a human."

"But I am not human, nurse."
"No, you are an advanced human with a soul, a mind, a body, and a heart. You are human, Harlow. They'd held you hostage all your life, limited the number of times you could speak to your mother. I couldn't leave you behind," she finalizes, folds the very last garment and places it atop the rest.

"Oh, no more gloom, Harlow. I have been a terrible hostess. Fancy a drink? Tea, coffee, cocoa, water maybe?"
"Tea would be great."
"Camomile tea I have. Is that alright?"
"Yes, I have never had that before."
"Well then, let me pour us a cup."
She lifts off the seat, smoothes her skirts. She places each clothe back into the basket and proceeds to exit into yet another chamber -the hems of her skirts caressing lightly her ankles.

For the next four hours or so she teaches me how to bake a cake, calls it a chocolate fudge cake. And yes, never have I tasted anything so sweetly, so divine. I bid both she and her niece goodbye, embrace her fondly and exit her home entirely -to my palm clutched the neatly-wrapped dish. I drop by Tokyo's lab, tread past dense doors where I find woman staring intently through lense of electron microscope.

"Tokyo," I greet, sit the cake safetly atop the furthest desk.
I proceed for the operation bed, sprawl my fatigued body atop, look idely to whitely ceilings.
"Harlow. How have you been?"
I turn head to gaze upon speaker who still eyes peculiar thing through lense.
"I can't complain. I just need you to run tests on my body, determine whether or not I am walking around hosting a parasite."

"Alright then. Give me two minutes," she speaks her response, does not gaze upon me even as she speaks.
The curiosity gnaws, it does. It piques to levels unfathomable. It plunges my peace of mind. So...
"What are you working on, Tokyo?"
Lass finally looks to me, sniffs a little, pushes strands of hairs behind her ear, flicks tongue over lower lip.

"You see, I've been observing this new species of insect, how it feeds. I realize that it not only feeds on internal organs but also eats through flesh, through muscle and tissue cells, through bone, consumes both blood and bone marrow and once fully mature, crawls it's way out of the host's body via any opening, leaving behind a trail of fertilized egg cells in its path."

"That is so disgusting to imagine. I live for science but no. That is just so appalling," I speak as my face contorts in a grimace.
She smiles a lovely smile at my words,  drags seat and proceeds for me, transducer in hand.
"I am already working on the cure for those already infested. We can only hope it's not in you."

She begins to hover the gadget above my body, slowly trailing from my forehead to the soles of my feet as the holographic x-ray emerges and levitates inches above marble floors. Minutes fleet by till she finally turns to face upon me, subtle smirk in place.
"Well, you are clean, Harlow. Good for you."
"Thank goodness," I breathe, my palm to my chest in efforts to self-soothe.

Swinging feet off leathery flat surface,  I hop off entirely.
"I brought you some cake by the way. Hope you enjoy."
"No, you didn't. It was initially yours until I grossed you out," she speaks, chuckles at her own statement, proceeds for where the cake is plastered.

"Well, enjoy. Oh and, before I forget, I wanted to ask if you could implant a dewei piece onto my skin."
"I could, of course I could. Just let me know when you'd like that and I got you," and as woman speaks, her arms fold beneath her bosom, her gaze to mine intently.
"I appreciate it. I have to leave now so I'll see you later."

I turn and slip past chromium doors, make my way towards Noe's home. Disappointingly, only the eery silence welcomes me with open arms like an anticipating lover. I sigh to myself. Yes, I do dread the silentness, loath the quiet. My thoughts ring far louder in the lonely, they torment me in the wake of night. Again, a sigh escapes past my lips and I shut doors and kick boots off.

Fingers to the buttons of Noe's dress shirt, I begin to undo whilst I mount stairs. In his bedroom chamber I proceed for the mirror, look to my reflection as it watches me. My vision trails and I look to the healed crater of my skin -the gamma ray wound. I feel for it gently with the tips of my fingers, press a little. Though skin is closed, mild pain still remains. I look to the wound of my arm and the tattoo 3033 though crinkled and healed is still partially present.

I turn my front away from the mirror and gaze upon the scars of my backside. Yes, those too have healed well. Doors of chamber glide open suddenly and in treads a fatigued Noe. His hairs caress his forehead and tickle the sides of his face. His body is firmly enfolded in a jungle-green tshirt that clings to him with perspiration, cargo pants and a pair of combat boots. And as his vision finds my own, man halts dead in his moves, his mouth slightly agape...

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