Petra Arkanian had been in this room for 3 days now. She had yet to speak. It was not that she did not know what do say –Petra without a sarcastic comment would cease to be Petra at all– but it was simply that she had come to the understanding that no one was there to listen. So she had simply cut off the movement of her vocal chords and instead opted to converse silently with herself.
I can't believe they think that kidnapping someone to win their wars is a decent idea... especially someone as stubborn as me. I mean, it's not to say that they're necessarily stupid, although let's be fair, that's probably the answer, but stupid people still generally manage to come up with at least one good idea by the time a large decision come out. Isn't that funny really? I mean, logically it makes sense, while it is hard to come up with a good idea, it's relatively easy to tell what a bad one is. All you need to do is sort. As long as you have enough people that is. Idea's are cheap. It's finding a good one that's hard. With a large enough group of people you really should be able to pick out at least one though...
and yet here you are.
yeah fair enough.
Petra sighed, no use complaining, she thought to herself. As long as she was here she might as well use the time for something.
Bean would be rather good at this, wouldn't he... The whole, mindless philosopher thing and all. Somebody really ought to have given him a nice large existential crisis just to see what he'd turn out... Still, the two of us, we're both introverted enough that this whole solitary confinement thing is pretty pointless, I could run miles through my memories before I got bored.
Remembering stories though, that was still not particularly productive. No, memories were one thing, rewriting, editing, creating, that was another.
She started with something simple, right after she had gotten back from battle school, first time back on earth in years and the first thing she did was go find an airport bathroom.
stupid. your first memory of earth and it's going to be a dull silver metal stall filled with the sounds of flushing loos.
okay, well, rewrite that bit then, what was after that?
She retraced her steps, remembering the silver water fountain, a surprisingly bright window, and then...
Oh! that smell, that was amazing... the first real smell of flowers in years.
They had landed in the Netherlands, a choice made purely arbitrarily, but then, when you're coming from space a second little flight to hop from one Euro country to another scarcely counted as a hassle of travel, and right alongside the "welcome" sign was a tiny cart of dutch tulips emitting a smell that she hadn't sensed in years.
It's not their fault.
Petra reminded herself.
Flowers are impractical in space, I mean, the pollen for one is ridiculous, but really, what purpose would they serve? Any cargo space in a shuttle that was equipped for fresh vegetation would of course be needed for food.
She remembered how Bean had caught her staring at them and nudged her arm, alerting her that their taxi was there to take them to the hotel they'd be staying at before catching their flight the next morning. She caught one last glimpse of the bright red and yellow petals than followed him outside, deliberately stepping in the small patch of dirt that surrounded a small ornamental tree.
It was astonishing how quickly she fell asleep her first night back on earth. Then again, the Hilton Garden inns memory foam mattress was a cloud compared to the beds up star-side. Petra smiled looking back on the next morning. She was such as mess. Honestly, given the fact she was meant to be a war hero couldn't they have gotten a flight that left a bit later? She scurried to pack her toothbrush and spare set of clothes back into her black duffle bag as she heard Bean pounding on the door that they were going to miss their flights if she didn't hurry up. Well, technically he was going to miss his flight. Hers left half an hour later, but they'd agreed it probably made more sense to say goodbyes after sleep than after their 14 hours of continuous screening and travel.
She ran over to the door and opened it to stop the pounding. Bean came in and sat down on the bed, while she ignored him in the bathroom, quickly pulling her hair up into a tight bun. While at battle school she had always kept it a short clean cut, but after moving to command school she had let it grow out. Taking advantage of their slightly more relaxed schedule to occasionally fix it up. Today however, she was working with what she knew best, a tight quick knot.
It was only when she went back into the main room to grab her bag that she noticed the bright colors that accompanied Bean's black duffle.
"I was just thinking... since you were eyeing them and all..."
"oh."
"I mean..."
"No, thanks. Really, they're beautiful."
A brief pause...
"When did you get these?"
"About an hour ago."
She looked over at the clock on the mahogany night stand, "5:30 am."
"Didn't you sleep?"
"Not generally a habit of mine."
She sighed and gave him a hug. Ender hadn't been big on sleep either, perhaps it was the mark of true genius. Then again, in that case she was a complete dunce, and she wasn't enough of an idiot to think that.
"Well do at least try. That is, assuming you don't miss this flight of yours. When is it again?"
"About an hour."
They set off at a brisk pace towards the line for taxis and Bean flagged down the third from the front. They sat down and headed off, ready to re-enter the real world. Go back to normal lives. Or at least that what they had thought.
The scene dissolved to white and Petra looked up again, glancing briefly at the small camera in the corner of her small cell. Lying back on her bed, hands resting gently along her midriff, she hoped to god that Bean wasn't doing the same in a cell next door.
