Legacy's Ghost

Episode 9: Close Quarters

After the Ghost leaves, I close my eyes expecting to rest them, but I quickly fade into a restless sleep filled with dreams of the Ghost evaporating into wisps of smoke and drifting through walls, the Swarm attacking, while Rigel taunts me from the sidelines.

When I wake it's dark and a fresh pile of clothes sits neatly folded on the same chair the Ghost was in.

I sit upright and swing my feet onto the cool wooden floors. I look at my feet and my brows crinkle. They're clean. I check my hands. They're clean too.

A wave of uneasiness ripples down me. Someone bathed me while sleeping.

Has someone seen me naked? Who?

Eww.

As fast as I can, I slip into my new clothes. They're similar to the ones the other TAGs wore during class. Natural colored linen pants and tunics, but softer than anything I'm used to. And cleaner too. Not to mention the fact that they fit.

The hem of my charcoal pants brushes over the tops of my feet, tickling them. I don't know I've I've ever owned pants long enough to actually touch my feet before.

My hands slide down my torso to the hem of my shirt. No stains or tears. The material is smooth and soft, almost silky. It's definitely a foreign sensation to me.

Silently, I vow to take special care of these items for as long as I can. Who knows how long it'll be before I get anything else new.

I glance under the chair and find a pair of brand-new shoes and socks. I pick up the shoes and examine them. Moccasins. Similar to the ones I'd seen the Ghost wearing when he goes out scouting outside the perimeter of Legacy's bio dome.

A grin washes over my face. Not only are these new, but they are only for me. These shoes aren't something I could ever pinch from someone else. Because only one other person wears these. Well, five other people, actually. The ghost and his four apprentices. But still, these shoes were made especially for me.

I stroke the leather shoes before slipping on socks and trying the shoes on for size. It's as if someone slipped in while I was sleeping and measured my feet. They fit me perfectly.

I fight back a shudder. Someone probably did sneak in while I was sleeping and measured my feet.

I flex my toes inside the shoes, realizing I haven't worn shoes for... Actually, I can't remember ever wearing shoes. Even during the winter months. I just stayed inside, staying on the carpeted areas whenever possible or burrowing my feet into blankets on the cold nights.

There was point in complaining because who would I complain to? Cook barely even fed me, let alone cared whether I was wearing clothes. The only reason I'm still alive and haven't been kicked out is because of Edmond. And now... This.

I wiggle my toes again, reveling in the soft cloth cocooning my toes, and the leather cushioning my soles. I pace my room and smile. Not a sound. Oh the trouble I can get into with shoes like these.

The curtain to my hospital cubicle slides to the side and I flinch swinging my head to look at the source of the sound. A tall thin woman, with Middle Eastern origins, tan skin, and long black hair braided down her back, stares at me, unsmiling.

"You're awake. I didn't hear you."

I squelch a smile, thinking of my shoes. "I saw the clothes. I thought I was supposed to get dressed."

She looks away and nods. "Edmond said once you were awake you should be escorted to your room."

"Room?"