Void

[25] Nadir

Chapter 25 - Nadir: A term used to describe a point directly underneath an object or body.

Anne

The days and nights become the same, a rotation of sleeping and eating at irregular intervals. Sometimes we're all awake at the same time. Sometimes we won't and I'll be alone with my thoughts for hours. I sense that we're losing a grip that we never really had, but I ignore both it and the time passing. Maybe we're slipping. I tell myself it'll be hard before it gets easier.

And I'm right, it gets easier. Frighteningly so. I almost can't recall what it was like to be outside, surrounded by swaying trees and covered under an azure sky. I try to remember the wind on my face. I try to imagine sunsets. I even try to picture my grandfather, but he's blurry. We haven't even been here a full month yet. What will he look like then?

We're all awake today. It becomes habitual for the rest of us, six of us, to work on the ship. The faster it's repaired, the faster we leave. It's second nature, like breathing. Everyday Cece and Cedric say it's almost done and we'll be on our way home. Everyday Oliver says he'll be able to fly it. Everyday Ed and Lia prepare, reassure, and keep an eye out for attacks. And everyday I crunch numbers and support the crew and sometimes think, just maybe, this day could be my last.

But I shouldn't care all that much. Like I recalled, we lost our ability to differentiate between day and night.

Stepping from darkness into the light, I turn a corner. I find the crew in hydraulics. Ed and Lia stand dwarfed beside the water chambers and Oliver is situated high above us on the second-floor walkway, scribbling something down on a legal pad.

I place stacks of individual steaming vegetable packets on the table Ed and Lia are working at. They look up and briefly gaze at the meager meal.

Ed looks up at me. "What's this?"

"Most of the food, the surplus that was supposed to last a year or so," I drop a handful of forks on the table. "Went missing. This is what'll make up the majority of the rest of our meals."

"Just this? This is all that's left?"

Lia pushes some papers out of her way. "I'm not surprised, but curious on how that much food can just disappear." She slides a portion in front of her and picks at the peas and carrots.

"NOVA was here, remember?" Ed is already cleaning his plate off. "They could've swiped it."

"It doesn't matter where the food went," I say. "What matters is that our time here just got shorter."

"How much?"

I pretend to fork through their files. They're just system checks. Precautions. Useless for the most part until an attack.

"Anne, how much?" Lia pushes.

"We have a week," I say. "Two if we ration."

"The ship should be done by then," Ed reassures. "Cece and Cedric said it would be."

"They also said that yesterday. And the day before."

"Last week too," Lia mumbles between chewing. "Look, it's not their fault. They couldn't have known how badly the ship was damaged. And with juggling the Computer and everything, they've made great progress. But with the strange drought in attacks..."

"Lia's right." I agree. "We've hit a dry spell, any time now, the rain's gonna come pouring down."

"And I'm still up here." Oliver is leaning over the balcony. "But you already knew that. Actually, I wanted to get your attention."