Lost in Time

Vol 2: Emerald Exclave

Watch your step, danger lurks ahead,
A shrill and a yelp, daggers in your bed...

Darkness. A vast veil of it hanging thick and heavy. Not the pure, unadulterated swarthy stretch of space though. No, this baleful blanket of negative light was alloyed with smells, and the cold draught of air. Smells, the ambient scent of Earth, first thing that gives it away. Fragrances, scents, aromas, petrichor, stenches and sweat. Sweet old sweat. Same old Earth.

This time it was the murky smell of moss and dampness. A rather caustic consequence of abandon and decay. If the stale stench of neglect was anything to go about, no one had been here in a while, wherever in the devil's ass it was.

Perhaps it was the deafening silence that screamed in seamless, ceaseless wails. That oughtta scare some folk away.

Nia sniffed in a lungful of acrid air. She coughed, feeling her body spring back to life. She sat up on a dusty old matt, from its latticed patterns and rough surface, it was made from reeds. One corner was torn off, the derelict piece hanging for dear life just above her ear.

She scanned the insalubrious little establishment, her eyes getting acquainted to the daunting dance of shadows. She could trace the flow of air with the feel of it caressing her plush skin. Her survival instinct was sharper than the tapering tip of a diamond drill.

Ri...left. Yeah, it was to her left. The door, or whatever hole one can use to crawl out of this hell. She got up too fast and her head spun like the cylinder of a revolver. She keeled over to the side, throwing her arms out as she desperately sought purchase.

Something wooden and sturdy came to her aid, a table perhaps. She really couldn't care less what it was. She grabbed hold of it and took a long breath. A baby migraine was starting to flicker on and off inside the mess that was her head.

Disorientation. It was the gravity. Or was it the Earth's rotation? She couldn't be sure. How long had they been in space anyways? They had artificial gravity on the mother ship, grav sims calibrated to match Earth's gravity. Felt like home traipsing through the pristine hallways of The Nebulus.

The shuttle craft was not adorned with the same mechanism. Too little a space to install the massive gyration wheels to generate a centrifugal force. Yeah, that's it. She'd been on the shuttlecraft a while without gravity. And the captain...God! Captain Walter.

"Captain? Cap!" She called out. Her voice was croaky, hobbled out as a little more than a husky rasp. She cleared her throat and pushed away from the wooden table. She groped around in the seething darkness as she followed the pulsating gust with her feet.

How the hell did she get in here? Who brought her here? What was this place?

Finally she found a latch. The door was unlocked, was supposed to be. But that was not the impression it gave when she pulled hard on the wrought iron latch. The damn thing was stuck. Maybe it was the years of neglect. Or maybe it was just not in the mood to be pushed. 

Insolent little sh...oe.

The frenetic fight with the door went on undisturbed for a few more minutes, the unsullied silence of the shambolic ghostly place brimming with cruddy curses and rip-roaring ruckus. Well, so far the door was winning. A resounding shellacking.

Nia was pissed. She was levitating in a cloud of deep-seated ire, fueled by the thrust of subsequent failed attempts.

A door? A goddamn door? Not even properly grooved, hanging sideways on the sorry saddle that was its flea-bitten hinges? Girl, she'd faced beasts tenfold her size, baleful as they come, baring canines more acuate than the glinting blade of a katana, and curved in unshapely curls longer than her fingers.