The Domos Chronicles: Abdita 3032

Chapter Two: Urgency

She had lost most of her hair, along with her memories, which were all that she had left to cling to. She was property, a subject, and her name was a number, 2448. It wasn’t long after losing the ability of shedding tears that she became mentally absent and all hope of rescue. This is understandable, as every time she was released, was to be beaten and injected with unknown substances by her captives; prodded with the needles of hate. Subject 2448 was left to herself for weeks at times, perhaps purposefully breaking her, but all intentions of her imprisonment was unclear; none the less, it was clear it was taking its toll. The walls had been ever so sinisterly mocking her, the ground on which she sat was forever out to scare her, purposefully making the droplets that fell from the ceiling land closer to her. Her daily slop was her only company in this torture, and even that was ironic. The air was still most nights, and revealed the only light throughout the day; 2448 found comfort in this light. Only when the first glimpse entered the room, could she cry, and finally sleep.

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                  Not moments after he sat down to a routine coffee, a loud buzz screeched causing Patrick to jump in his chair, hitting his knee on his desk in the process. The coffee swished around in the mug for a second, before spilling some of its contents over documents lying clumsily on the desk. Patrick mended to his knee with a rub before lifting the mug up off the desk towards a worktop behind him, calling himself an idiot under his breath. After a minute of laying paper towels over his work, Patrick finally sat back down to enjoy what was left of his coffee; it was caffeinated Gold Blend, his favourite. He remembered the buzz that startled him and forced him to both injure himself and ruin some work. The screen of his P.A.D. was lit; General Strangward Appointment||| Urgent was in bold, red letters, a font that caused him concern. He commanded for more information to find that his appointment had been moved, but the time wasn’t there, in its place was --. Along with the monitors around Abdita, the P.A.D. systems had very little input required by their users. Everything was programmed, and updated by the master system; obviously having a hand in what was read were officials with high access levels and politicians.P.A.D.s were purely military-work-based essentials, the average citizen wouldn’t require such a device, although P.A.D.s were used in schooling to teach professional programming; Patrick’s friend from the lift, Charlie, had worked with them to qualify as a military engineer. Patrick, puzzled, left his office, and his coffee, for assistance.

                  The deck was pretty large and open with rooms planted along the east wall, separated with the only corridor on the deck. Patrick’s office was in the centre of these rooms and opened straight out onto the deck. ‘Hm? Hello?’ Patrick was puzzled, so much so that it stopped him in his tracks. The deck was usually occupied by colleagues lounging about and perhaps a few patients, but this time, it was empty. Patrick gets to work early and doesn’t often see other people on the deck until 0900; the time at this point, was 1000. Patrick grew worried; it was stupid to think everyone was sick, so there must be something else. Just to be sure, Patrick marched around the deck and through the single corridor with pace, checking each room as he did so. When finished, he returned to his office shaking his head, wearing a puzzled grin; trying to deny stupid thoughts. He slumped back into his chair, retracted, and swung his hands back over his head, now trying to laugh it off. ‘Stupid’ He kept muttering to himself maniacally. The faint sound of the lift arriving echoed through the deck, but Patrick didn’t hear it over his muttering. Nor did he hear three sets of clanking footsteps on the tiles of the deck, until just outside his door. He stood up swiftly with excitement of seeing another person, and with that dashed through the door.