Connection

A quick glance around. No one. It's dead quiet here. Obverse to the chaos of mutiny outside in the corridors. In these quarters, the only sounds are me breathing and a faint hum from somewhere behind the panels - and then the muzzled click of the latch as I carefully close the door shut behind me with both hands. The room oozes hospital in all its purpose and cleanliness. Yes, I know! - It's not like the rest of the ship has much to offer in way of extravagance but, unlike the med bay, it is suffused with wear. Scratched and dented surfaces. Scuffed paint. None of that exists here. Not that these facilities are not in regular use. More often than not, this section is occupied with concentrated and determined people. People who care more about the job at hand than their surroundings. Yet, in all its white spotlessness, it must touch upon something inside of them. What would the rest of the ship have looked like by now, had it not been laid out in grey vinyl and anodized metals?

Hastily, I search the room for a loose panel or a cabinet where I can hide. Nothing. Damn it! Not even a couch to slip under. Scrambling, I draw out a stool from under a table, nearly toppling the desk, and climb it to poke at a ceiling tile to lift it up. To see if there is enough clearance up there. The cavity is crammed tight with cable trays and air ducts. No room for me there, even if the tiles could carry my weight. Frankly, I doubt they would. I look down from on top of the stool. There is a tray of scalpels down there on the desk, all shrink-wrapped for sterility. Not much of a weapon under any circumstances. Certainly not against armed, angry men.

Painfully aware that they will probably do exactly the same when they come looking for me, I crouch and put my head to the floor. Who am I kidding?! Surely, having all the time in the world, they will have a better chance of finding a hideout than me. Me, with no time at all. With my head low, I swivel frantically and follow the floor line with my eyes. If only I could find a loose tile. A doorway or an opening! Something. Anything... There! Obscured by the dental delivery! An opening in the skirting. I can see a dark line under the machinery. I get up and scurry under the cables and tubes protruding from the machine and begin to manoeuvre it away from the bulkhead. Even with wheels, it is astoundingly heavy. I manage to drag it a few centimetres from the wall but just enough for me to squeeze through.

It is not a locker as I had hoped. More a recess in the wall. Perhaps for liquid air canisters or some special machine now disposed of. Anyway, whatever was there is not there any more, leaving me with just enough room to curl up in. I sit down on the floor and draw my knees up under my chin. A narrow fit. As I scramble to draw the heavy delivery station back towards me, something falls down from somewhere on top of the surface. Shit! If they see instruments lying on the floor, they will surely know I have been in here. Make them search the room even more closely. Careful not to throw off other loose objects, I push the station out again, away from the wall. Just enough for me to get a hand out through the gap. I can see it, half-obscured by the station. It's a type of visor or protection helmet. Stretching my fingers, I can almost get to it. Not quite, though. Feeling the panic, I scrape the skin of my forearm as I grab for the visor, still well beyond my reach, and end up pushing the station further out anyway. Dear God! Back where I started. With the delivery station aslant from the wall, I get out halfway and pick up the visor. While out of my little alcove, I check the floor for other dropped instruments before I retract and heave the station close again as I get back into my little cave. Hoping. Closing my eyes trying to settle my breath. Everything is quiet.

I must have fallen asleep. I hit my head on the bulkhead as I jerk awake. How can I even doze off like that, with all the adrenaline in my body? Armed men are chasing me and I take a nap! Fuck! Suddenly morbidly amused, I get a picture of gerbils that pass out in the face of danger. Or is it possums? Never mind! It is still silent in the med bay. I wonder what awoke me? I try to peek out through the gaps behind the delivery station, holding my breath. Perhaps I can see a reflection of the room on a surface somewhere. It's not like there aren't enough mirror-polished surfaces. But, no. Nothing. It must have been a vibration in the bulkhead or perhaps just something I dreamt. I look down on the visor in my lap. It looks like a VR headset. A bit larger than the ones we use in navigation training. I turn it in my hands. There are no controls or data ports. A chevron-like logo on one side and an almost worn off logotype on the other. I drop it back into my lap and return to focusing on disturbances in the delicate hum of the room. Not a sound. There is no one here with me.