Revive

-Two-

I walked the corridors of my new home of twelve days, ship 625C. My shoes squeaked on the shiny grey floor as I strode towards the dining hall. While I was distractedly counting the tiles embedded in the sterile ground, a small group of youths, studying forensics, bustled out of a room. Paying them no heed, I walked along, only to have my thoughts interrupted by their continuous excited whispering. Finally giving up all self-control, I strained my ears to listen, catching a few phrases "-wonder how she survived so long... -no mask too!... -only a kid as well..." My breathing quickened as my mind whirled. The child was in the ship. I slowly walked towards the wall, a few metres away from the door, pretending to examine a map of the ship. The moment they were out of eye-shot, I slid past the frosted glass, into the dimly illuminated room. It smelled of chemical sterilisers and spirit. But there were also hints of a subtle, but unmistakable, stench of rotting. Tip-toeing my way in, I realized that the room seemed to have the uncanny appearance of both a surgical room and a mortuary. A long thin table stood on the centre, it had a bulge covered by a pale blue sheet. As I reached towards it, my hand shook. Slowly lifting one end of the cover, a body started to reveal itself. First, her dusty hair, then her forehead, eyes, nose and lips. I paused. What was I doing? I didn't know. Perhaps by seeing her, I would uncover the answers I searched for. I consoled myself. Pulling the sheet down to her shoulder, a mark caught my eyes. Tattooed in sleek black ink, the hauntingly familiar emblem, 'ORO'.


I rushed towards the packed cafeteria and frantically searched for a particular redhead. "Ana! Over here!" His distinct voice floated over the clutter of others. Barely on my feet, I scattered over to the crowded table. "The kid-" I started, as the smile on his face turned into a grimace as he pointed to the empty hallway. Once there, he spoke lowly, his blue eyes turning stony, "I thought I lost you for a second there, you know? You're like a sister to me," he paused, "I had to drag both of you into the dispatch pod, you were losing oxygen rapidly because the tank was fractured when you fell over." He looked at me with an expression of barely contained anger. I could only mutter out a small apology before rushing back to the topic of the emblem. I asked him whether he knew anything about it, to which he replied by turning quickly to check if the hallway had emptied before shoving a crumpled paper in my hand. "It fell from her when I was trying to get you two to fit in the pod. I thought it might be important. I think they're coordinates." He pointed to my closed fist, which now held something it was clearly not supposed to.
I looked up to meet his gaze, those vivid sapphires. He was always too quick-witted for my liking. "You know, don't you." It was an accusation. He stared at the floor guiltily, afraid to make eye contact. "I was concerned about you. You faint so often and so easily. I asked the head nurse if she knew the cause of it. I strung a friendly conversation with her to get information. One thing led to another and she let slip that it was odd that you, "an extreme ruler-obeyer", I quote, "would have a tattoo." He looked at me warily, searching for signs of anger, and detecting none, continued, "I asked her what it was about and I learned about 'ORO'. I dug around a bit and... well... you always said that you don't remember your childhood well. I put two and two together and I think," he paused, "you were a test subject in ORO. They were an illegal group of scientists experimenting on human DNA mutation. They aimed to undo the ozone depletion by genetically modifying infants in wombs to survive off of CFC gases. Their side aim was to make people UV resistant as well." He finished in a hushed tone, afraid of what was to come. I absent-mindedly rubbed my left shoulder blade where the words, 'ORO [Ozonosphere Rehabilitation Organization] 151815, No.21D', were etched on my skin in minuscule black letters. "Do you have access to the dispatch pods?" I inquired. He gave a dull nod because, just as always, he knew.