Just Beyond the River

It was bright and her head hurt. There was something stuck on her forehead but her hands wouldn't move to reach it. She was lying on a bed, a luxury that was only provided if they were ever in the small hospital room, and her eyes were also covered by another type of cloth.

"Well?" a man's voice said.

"The scan has come back unchanged. Her brain's activity is almost identical to the activity before we put her to sleep. So the good news is, she was successfully incubated for twenty six years, physically and mentally unchanged. We also remedied her eyesight. It appears that the direct exposure to the light of the moon and then the daylight caused a thick protective layer to develop to protect her eyes. In future, short intervals of artificial lighting will be used over a period of time to allow adjustment before prolonged periods in artificial lighting are attempted, then eventual exposure to real light can occur," a woman's voice replied.

"And the bad news? Well, spit it out, Jones."

"We are uncertain whether a second incubation is doable."

"What do you mean? Do you know how long it took us to find someone who could be put in that incubator and not die? And now you're telling me that our success, our only subject who was preserved whilst alive for twenty six fucking years, can no longer be used?"

"Doctor Khilit--"

"Of course he said that. He wasn't even here when we put her to sleep! Christ, that man knows nothing. We will prep her ten times if we must - twenty five years was not our target, and nor will it be our longest result. Go get her handler."

"Sir, if you could," the woman interrupted. "You were wanted in the conference room. There appears to be disruption on the east-side and one of the cameras has been broken."

"You newbies can't do anything! What're the chances it's the local children again? But no, I'm summoned because they can't handle a couple of kids. I swear, your generation of workers are bone-idle idiots."

There was movement and she heard the door open and then be pulled shut, cloaking her in silence. How long had she been unconscious for? Long enough for tests to be run, for her eyes to apparently be fixed, and for them to decide that she might be of no use much longer. She knew what that meant. There had been several others she'd come across before she'd been put to sleep who had ended up becoming useless, and their disappearance was so swift and sudden that most ended up realising only after they hadn't turned up to two or three of the get-togethers they were given.

She tugged her wrists and legs, panic rising in her when she established that she was cuffed to the bed. Her breath became heavier as she tugged harder. Isolation, starvation or even being caned, she'd pick any one of those punishments over being restrained.

The door opened once more and the voice of her handler taunted her. "It seems I mistook your declaration out in those woods. Where I thought it was just your desperation, turns out you truly do wish to die."

"Go to hell!" she spat.

"You still haven't fully understood just how important your purpose is. I would've thought that waking all these years in the future, without a single complication, would have shown just how valuable you are."

She wanted to tell him that she couldn't remember things that she should, it was even on the tip of her tongue, but her desire was to die, not to be rendered useless and disposed of as rubbish. She wanted her death to ruin their plans, not be the result of them needing to find someone else.

"Nevertheless, with Sturin busy elsewhere, he's asked whether I can step in for him. So, my dear Aurora, let's start with what you spoke about when you were on your little adventure."

"I told them everything!" she exclaimed.

"I know when you're lying." His voice was nearer this time, as if he were stood next to the bed she was confined to. "But I do think you spoke of this place. How much is what I don't know."

"I told them everything," she repeated. "Every last thing."

"That's funny, because when we met in that, ah, tavern, not a single person was interested in you, and if I'm not mistake, speaking about this place would've surely earned you more than just one person's attention."

The cloth over her eyes was lifted and she blinked rapidly, finally able to see clearly. That meant that she could see the cut on the man's lip and the slight swelling beneath his eye, no doubt a result of her proclamation. She wondered what happened once she had escaped through the side-door. What had the men in that bar done? And after that, had the barman heeded her words? She didn't have much hope. For ten years she'd been confined and not a single person had been suspicious of the place, not to mention the twenty six years she hadn't been aware of. All that time and no one had come to their aid. Why would anyone, least of all a barman, listen to her now?

"I suspect that you miss your incubator. You needn't worry. After that stunt you pulled, your prep time will be spent in a chamber similar to prevent any more harm befalling you. You are the biggest breakthrough in science that we have made, and you are mistaken if you think that we are done with you," he said.

She turned her head and stared at the wall. Science. This wasn't science. Taking children and trying to defy life wasn't science. It was insane, cruel and terrifying.

"If I put on your notes that you refuse to answer, you do realise that Sturin will pay you a visit," he said after a prolonged silence. "You've never met him but I wouldn't expect that you'd want to. He's very forceful and wouldn't leave until you told him what he wanted. I don't expect that you'd last very long with your stubbornness after that."

She came to the conclusion that the thing that was on her forehead was a bandage, used to cover the wound she'd made. It felt bulky and stuck to her head, the way that bandages always were. She didn't remember seeing much blood on the toilet so she hoped the presence of the bandage was an indication that she'd inflicted more damage than she'd first thought. She'd do anything to prevent being their subject once more.

After a while of her just staring at the wall, the man moved from beside her. "Very well," he said curtly. "I'll let you wallow in your isolation." Before he left, she felt a needle slide into the crease of her elbow before it was swiftly removed and she was alone once more.

Now that the cloth was removed from her eyes she could see the bland room and was exposed to the harsh light. It wasn't comforting like the white room was. Nothing gave her comfort like that room did. Even being in that tavern, and then the cellar, part of her had ached for the white room. It had been her home for ten years. Her unchanging, bare, and forced home.

She looked at the ceiling and as she began to count to disrupt the silence, a siren pierced through the room.