Tap…tap…tap
Cecilia's steps echoed between the silver metal walls, the lights above giving her just enough to keep from tripping over her own feet.
Vending machines sat spaced apart beside scattered benches, their displays glowing softly in the quiet.
Some looked like lounges.
Others opened into cafeterias of every size imaginable, with atriums stretching toward the floors above—though never straight through the decks themselves. Their stairways were built from concrete, metal, and glass, cutting through the open spaces like supports meant to be seen.
Small galleries lined certain hallways, selling whatever they could to whoever happened to pass by, while the fancier shops were recessed into the walls behind polished fronts and dim displays.
Rectangular ductwork stretched overhead, pulling and pushing air through the vessel. The constant hum of the HVAC filled her ears, and something about the white noise eased her mind.
"I have no idea where I'm going…I think I've passed this hall twice already."
Her voice barely rose above the steady drone in the background.
She floated down the quiet corridor, munching lazily on a sugar stick.
Crnk.
Each bite echoed faintly behind her as she watched her shadow stretch, bend, and break across the floor.
Her feet carried her everywhere and nowhere right up until she passed a hallway.
Cecilia pivoted on her heel and returned to the narrow and short hallway.
At the end of it, two people guarded a door.
The short hallway was bathed in soft light. One was a Librei, the other a Mustela, both stationed in front of whatever waited behind the metal door.
Their faces carved into boredom and mild irritation.
The Librei leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, dark blue gear wrapped around his body with a name patch stitched onto his chest.
Nolan.
The Mustela, on the other hand, sat behind a small desk with a sheathed knife resting on one corner. He scrolled lazily through his phone, his ears flicking with every tap.
Remy.
Crnch...
Nolan pushed himself upright and uncrossed his arms, his stare boring straight through her as she came to a stop in front of them.
"Sup."
Remy did not even look up from his phone. His voice came flat, bored, and completely uninterested.
Cecilia finished off the last of her sugar stick, then tossed the wrapper and stick into the bin beside the desk.
"What do you want."
Nolan planted himself in front of the door, his gloved hand curling into a loose fist. The once-tan material had worn nearly black from long use.
"Can I take a peek? I won't touch anything. Swear."
Her voice cracked through the stale air, turning it awkward in an instant.
Nolan stared.
"I'm not opening the door for some random girl wandering around."
A long, resigned sigh slipped out of Remy.
He finally looked up from his phone, turned it off, and set it face down on the desk. Dull purple hair fell loosely over his face, while his round white ears forced themselves upright like even they were tired of being there.
His exhausted eyes settled on Cecilia.
"You don't even know what's back there. You know curiosity's what killed moggy, right?"
One of her fingers twitched at her side and the smile on her face faltered for half.
"Can't a girl be curious?"
Remy remained unamused.
He reached across the desk and dragged the tablet closer.
"ID?"
Cecilia's eyes flickered to Nolan as he stepped a little closer. The spotted pattern of his feathers scattered through his hair, dark against the softer strands.
She lifted her clutch bag, popped it open, and searched through it until her fingers found the card, then she handed it over.
"When were you born?"
twich.
"Sixteen O' eight."
Nolan handed her ID back without ceremony.
Cecilia slipped it into her bag and closed it with a quiet snap.
Remy finished tapping on the tablet, then turned the screen around and slid it toward her.
"It's just a couple hundred. Still curious?"
"Unfortunately."
Cecilia dragged her finger across the screen until it would not scroll any farther, not even pretending to read the terms and conditions before signing and tapping accept.
The screen flipped to another window immediately.
Another paywall, she stared at it.
Then, with a slight twitch of her finger, she willed it forward.
An outline popped up with a string of numbers at the top. A balance of five hundred thirty-seven pesos flashed beside it with a minus sign.
A moment later, the screen shifted again.
An opaque bell in the upper right of her vision buzzed red, dancing around without pause.
The bell quieted immediately, its little icon turning yellow before going still.
Remy dragged the tablet back toward himself while Nolan stepped aside and gave the metal door behind him a heavy bang.
I...I didn't think that would actually work.
Her feet moved before she had fully thought it through.
Another door waited ahead, and the moment the metal one shut behind her, this one swung open.
Her ears perked at the Rat Pack music drifting through the background.
A handful of guards lounged around in outfits identical to Nolan's. To her left, a small band played calmly, their music blending into the chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the room.
Cecilia walked through the sea of mostly normal-looking people and dropped herself onto a stool at the counter.
She let her weary feet rest, plopping her bag between her legs while she soaked in the warmth of the room for a minute.
clnk—!
Her eyes darted up at once, locking straight onto the bartender's.
An empty glass was placed between them, catching the dim light above in its clear surface.
The man behind it had a pleasant face, his short Coelhinho ears standing neatly at attention as he rested a palm on the counter.
"What can I get started for you?"
Cecilia's mind churned for a moment before her brain finally spat out an answer. At the same time, she pushed herself upright from the counter.
"Whatever you've got...preferably soft."
The bartender nodded and turned away.
He pulled a slim bottle from the shelf, its label scuffed from heavy use and poured a measured shot into a metal shaker. Then he reached for another bottle resting on the prep counter, its cap barely visible from where she sat.
A dark syrup followed soon after, tapping softly against the steel.
He tossed in a handful of ice cubes that clattered sharply, then snapped the shaker shut. His wrists rolled the metal with talented ease for a short while.
Then he popped the lid off, strained the drink into the waiting glass and slid it her way with a professional smile.
"Try this."
Cecilia wrapped her hand around the glass and took a quick look at the drink before pulling it close for a brief sniff.
It carried a faint sweetness with something sharper she could not quite put into words. She took a cautious sip, then downed the rest.
Her eyes lifted a little from their drowsy half-lidded state.
She looked back up at him and snapped her fingers.
The small tablet beside him flickered, like her own bracelet, confirming the payment a second later. An inconsequential amount left her account, barely enough for her to care.
"Say."
Cecilia lowered her hand, then traced a slow line around the rim of her empty glass.
"There's not, like…a little back room behind here, is there?"
His expression barely changed.
The bartender reached deeper into the prep counter, then slid a simple card across to her. Cecilia dragged it toward herself while he took her empty glass away to wash.
She flipped the card over, reading the thin strips of information printed across it. The instructions were straightforward enough.
…I didn't think that'd work either! Just like the movies.
She stood and glanced around before spotting a passage on the opposite side of where the little band was playing. A sign hung above the entrance, glowing bright green and flickering every few seconds.
Cecilia pushed her stool back into place and headed toward it.
I just need to make a left at the end, right?
A few too many steps later, past a restroom, another door waited ahead—standing between her and whatever lay beyond.
Her eyes wandered for a moment before landing on the card reader. She tapped the card against it, and the indicator blinked green, the lock clicking open at the same time.
Cecilia hesitated briefly, then pushed the door open just wide enough to slip through. She stepped inside and shut it behind her in one motion.
The first thing that hit her was the change in noise.
The music from outside thinned behind the door, replaced by a lower mix of voices, glasses, and quiet movement.
"Huh…not bad at all."
In front of her sat two old brown leather sofas with a table dab in the middle, all three sunk into a shallow depression in the floor. A handful of people lounged there—chatting, drinking, or wasting time one way or another.
To her left stretched a small cafeteria, busy with people tearing through meals of every size.
Groups clustered together, some clearly guards assigned to the vessel, others from similar lines of work looking for fresh regions to wander into.
A few minutes later, she found herself sitting alone near the corner, one leg crossed loosely over the other while her bag rested against her.
For a while, she just sat there.
People came and went around her, both in slow and fast forward. Some spoke in low voices, others ate like they had not eaten in days. Near the cafeteria, a group of guards laughed among themselves.
Her eyes drifted from one corner to the next, picking up small scraps of entertainment where she could for minutes on end.
She pushed herself up with a quiet sigh, grabbed her bag, and headed toward the small cafeteria.
Cecilia slipped past the tables full of people and stopped in front of a refrigerated vending machine.
Rows of canned drinks sat behind the glass, their labels bright under the pale interior light.
she picked one.
And another.
And, after thinking about it, a third.
Cecilia carried them to the scanner built right onto the vending machine.
She lifted her wrist, her bracelet flickered awake, and a little payment icon spun before turning green, just like thee scanner.
Cecilia gathered the cans against her chest and wandered back toward the corner seat she had claimed earlier.
One by one, she opened them.
Tsssk.
gulk… gulk…
gulk… gulk…
The background began to soften, the voices and people blending together until nothing looked its shape.
Cecilia rested her elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned her head against her knuckles.
Once more, she lifted her bracelet awake, the time and date glowing dimly against her reflection as a screen materialized.
She closed her eyes.
And when her eyes opened again, she was already in her room, staring into a larger screen.
The cursor blinked on the document in front of her.
A few empty cans rested on the small table beside her, beside the bed.
Ugh—damn these papers. Why didn't I just do them yesterday? Now look at me. Brilliant, Sienna. Real smart.
She complained on repeat even while she typed away.
"This is so stupid. Why do I have to do this anyway? Why'd I'd agree to this in the first place...im supposed to be on a trip?"
She raised her arms high, grabbing one wrist and stretching her whole body out.
Her legs shifted under the desk, agitated.
"mmnn—haa…"
Blood rushed to her head, forcing a yawn out of her before her gaze drifted to the date in the bottom-left corner of the screen.
January twentieth.
Her gaze slid toward Ikade sleeping beside her.
Ikade lay curled up on the bed, her long furred tail draped across her own face like a soft blanket. For once, her ears hung loose and floppy, instead of twitching at every little sound.
After almost an hour of typing, rereading, deleting, and typing again, she finally reached the end of the document. She tapped the screen, signed the dotted line at the bottom, saved it, then sent it off to a certain old dog.
"You'd think they'd have something better than email by now."
She muttered under her breath, casting a glance toward the light switch near the door. It flicked off, dropping the room into darkness.
The glow of her laptop lit her face when she opened the first message in her inbox.
It was from the doctor—Mann.
Cecilia double-tapped the email he had forwarded again.
The message was short and painfully simple: a reminder not to ignore him, followed by a warning that if she kept delaying, she might end up dying before he could do anything about it.
She scrolled down just enough for the attached file to appear.
The file swallowed her entire screen—all three hundred and six pages of her history laid bare, the rest of the room dissolving into a blurry mess of color.
Medical Report — "Cecilia", Aug 14th, 1608
Her fingers forced the pages downward, skimming past the parts she had already memorized and the ones too useless to read again.
'You ha ve a m░▒▓ss in y our br██a i n.'
She slowed to a crawl, reading the lines once, then again, then again. Each detail cut through the haze in her head as the meaning settled in.
"…crys…talline…pressin'…pons…var…olii…"
"between...med...nucleus too..."
"Heh...what shit luck....Nope. Not thinking about my poor life choices until next week."