Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

Sonet

In the morning I wake in a squidgy four-poster bed between Bex and Dynah, following my best night's sleep since this ordeal began. I shower and change into my cleaned and ironed clothes which Jeffrey laid on a dresser at our bedside. The girls are sleeping under silk sheets so I grab my laundry and leave the bedroom, then knock on Eyris' bedroom door.
A short while later, Eyris opens the door slightly and peers through the gap; her starey eye reminding me of poor Cali. I hope she is surviving in her apartment in Howdon, but I have serious doubts this is possible. At least she had insulin, if not her sanity, but even if she has survived the fighting, even if the apartment building has not collapsed, her time must be running out. Once her supplies are gone, that will surely be the end of her, unless I can find a way to help, which is doubtful. I just need to erase unhelpful memories of the vulnerable, but there are so many reminders, and I struggle not to care, even though I would rather not care.
'Yes?' Eyris says and I realise I was daydreaming, or would that by nightmaring? Daymaring?
'Hey, thanks for letting us stay the night. I have the clothes I borrowed. I wasn't sure what to do with them,' I say, wearing the clothes I found in the ruined base and wishing I could borrow another outfit.
'Jeffrey, can you take Emmi's laundry, please?' Eyris says and within seconds the wheeled service droid emerges from his hatch. I place the pile of lovely Shingeta clothes into his spaghetti arms and he disappears into the wall tunnel. It occurs Jeffrey is mute which explains why his manufacturers never gave him a face.
'You can go to the living room, put the holoscreen on if you like,' Eyris says.
'Thanks,' I say and Eyris pulls her eyeball away from the ajar door. 'Hey, Eyris...'
'Yes?'
'Do you have some makeup I can borrow? I've seen my reflection in the mirror and I look pretty gross. It's been a wh–'
'You look fine,' Eyris says. 'Surprisingly so.'
'Oh.'

'Hold on.' Eyris closes the door and I hear shuffling in the bedroom. A minute later she passes a makeup bag through the gap and closes the door before I can thank her. I head to the bathroom and unzip the bag at the mirror above the sink. My cheeks look drawn. Ordinarily they are plump, fat if I am honest, but I have lost weight from all this walking around the warzone. My skin is pimply and dark circles surround my eyes and my lips are drained of colour. I look like shit.
I apply foundation to my face, carefully avoiding my nose piercing, masking my drab complexion, restoring colour, hiding the pimples. I apply some lipstick, eye-liner, and my face comes back to life. I almost look pretty and the transformation is not just physical. I instantly feel better inside, re-energised, like I have got the old me back, the spirit, the get up and go. Depression cannot last forever, otherwise what would be the point?
I head to the living room and activate the holoscreen, then sit in a comfy blue leather seat which looks like it came from a showroom. In fact this living room could be a showroom. I log into Sonet by voice command and check my inbox via the touchscreen. Messages from a few friends are asking if I am okay. One message explains a girl I know has recently died so I close my inbox without reading further. I do not want to discover the details yet. I must manage my pain levels to stop the darkness returning.
Despite my optimism, there is no contact from my brother Arturo in my notifications. I access his Sonet profile, scrolling down the wall, looking for any activity. Nothing. I post a status: If anyones seen Arturo, please lemme know. I cannot think of anything else to write. I cannot bear to elaborate on the fact he is missing and would be unable to explain anyway. Surely the first thing Arturo would do is send me a message. He must have an excuse, something preventing him, lack of access to communications equipment. Maybe he is staying in one of the blackout areas. I refuse to accept any other explanation. Not when things are looking up.
I check the Sonet profiles of Myla, Killow, and Smig, but none show signs of recent online activity. Fuck, same excuse for them, I guess. No online access. I run a search on the name Nelson, realising I do not even know his surname so this could take a while. I trawl through the endless search results, but I cannot find a recognisable profile picture. I return to Smig's profile, search through his contacts list, but find nothing with the name Nelson.
Frustrated I log out of Sonet and move to the crescent sofa, staring at the colourful fish swimming in the pond when I hear yelping and thumping. It seems to be coming from beyond, or possibly inside, the living room wall.
'Scoop, is that you?' I say, recognising the pained grunts and mutterings. But even if I did not hear his voice, Scoop would have been my first guess anyways.
'Yeah, I'm stuck inside the wall! I was trying to follow Jeffrey to see where he goes, but it'ssth pitch-black and really cramped,' Scoop says and I almost laugh, but I am too numb, my lungs are too weak.
'Jeffrey, can you open the living room hatch please and see if Scoop needs help?' I say and the wall hatch opens, revealing a pitch-black void.
'Oh, I can sstheee now, thanks!' Thump. Thump. Thump. The idiot crawls from the void, crosses the living room and slumps onto the blue crescent sofa, panting. I shake my head, smirking.