Panoptic

Panoptic - Chapter 08

 Tired as Sisyphus, he dragged himself back to his stateroom. As he came near, something made his neck hairs prick up, and gave him a creepy sensation in his gut. Something was off. When he got closer, he saw it.

The door was ajar.

Soro knew he hadn't left it open. He patted his pocket, and felt the hard plastic rectangle through his jacket; the slim key card hadn't left him. Fear began to mingle with his fatigue.

He remembered Belle Stakker's warning. One of the other contestants was behind Sam's disappearance. Perhaps they hadn't had their fill of kidnapping. Perhaps they had a quota to meet. Perhaps they had decided to skip the abduction, and go straight to mutilation and death.

His guts filled with chill, seething mercury.

He paused on the threshold, fatigue weighing him down, caution holding him back.

Is this it? He asked himself. Is this all I've got?

He felt the way he had when Jack Johnson had scowled down at him. He liked the memory. He used it. Picturing Jack's scowl, he reversed the role, and saw himself as Jack, and painted the man's fury on his own face.

Anger gave him strength. Not much, but enough to push through fear and fatigue. Enough to push open the door, and walk through it.

Just as he'd been surprised by the New Dawn's grandeur, he'd been impressed by the chambers provided. He'd never reckoned his home too small, though his brother would insist on calling it a hobbit hole, with a grin and a wink. His stateroom, however, made it seem a mouse hole.

It wasn't that he had any more rooms; they'd given him a bedroom and an off-suite bathroom, but they'd made them huge. The starry patterned walls rose to a ceiling almost twice his height, and the bed, with cream silken sheets, could have supported four people without forcing any more intimacy than they wanted. If he took his boots off, he'd lose his toes in the red shag pile carpet. The mirror wasn't full-length, not for him. He couldn't have made it full-length without standing on his own shoulders, and jumping up and down.

He didn't consider these things as he entered his room for the second time, and yet they acted on his psyche, reminding him, at a level below the threshold of awareness, of how small he was, and how vast could prove the forces ranged against him.

He entered the room, legs tense, ready to bolt. His jaws tightened hard enough for his teeth to squeak. His hands curled and uncurled, half-raised, but unsure. He told himself he was ready for anything, but the sickly cold in his gut belied his thoughts.

When he saw what waited for him, he jumped. No matter how hard he'd tried, he would never have expected this.

The girl sat on the edge of his bed. She'd changed out of her pink, lightning-crossed t-shirt, her black leather skirt and her leggings. She wore an elegant black dress, low cut and strapless. It clung to her figure, suggesting, rather than displaying the curves beneath. Her hair was still a dark chaos of braids, pink ribbons and pigtails, and below she still wore heavy walking shoes, but in between, she made an appealing sight.

"Are you done?" she asked. "Would you like me to turn around for you?" Her voice, though laden with sarcasm, had a softer quality than before, and the corners of her mouth turned up. Squiz murmured with sleepy content, snuggled in her lap, her hands in his fur.

"What are you doing here?" he said.

She blinked several times, and colour rose in her cheeks. "Is that all you're going to say? I come here and wait for you, and all I get is 'what are you doing here?'"

He stiffened. "I shouldn't have asked."

She bit her lip, and watched him.

He shook his head. He felt as if he'd run ten marathons, climbed ten mountains. His fear fled, but in its place came anger, fury, hate for Gell Shield, for turning his home into a trap, hate for Belle Stakker, who'd forced him to board this ship to Wherethehell, hate for the people who'd taken his brother. "I shouldn't bother with dumb questions. You've come to continue your infiltration, and turn my life into an unremitting nightmare."