The man sat, crossed his legs and then rested his hands quietly in his lap. He made no further movement as she watched intently for the next twenty minutes. Her enhanced hearing could only hear the rhythmic in and out of his breathing.
Rayne brushed the tears from her eyes and sniffed quietly as she tried to figure out what the old man was doing. His head turned minutely toward her and she stilled. He turned further and met her gaze for several long minutes, then took several moments to stand painfully to his feet. He walked carefully down the steps toward Rayne in an aged, bent-over shuffle. Rayne tensed, took a step back and looked to her left and then right. The old man continued forward, oblivious to the danger as she tensed for a strike. She fought the urge, closed her eyes and took two deep, shuddering breaths before opening them again. The old man stood, looking up at her with a smile on his face. He spoke in a language she did not recognize and waved her forward. Rayne wasn’t sure what to do, her mind in complete chaos. Her nightmare still hammered at the back of her head, the T80 side of her brain demanded attack, while the human side screamed everything was fine and to let the old man alone. He looked at her, repeating his request again, motioning her to come. Rayne took a hesitant step down and the old man nodded his encouragement. She took the other two steps cautiously and stood before him at a range that was way too close for her comfort. The man shuffled forward and she tensed. He reached out, grabbed her forearm with his old withered hands and walked her forward toward the garden structure. He spoke quietly in the strange language as they walked, and it was somehow soothing and she felt herself relax by an order of magnitude.
As they reached the steps, Rayne helped the old man as he climbed slowly up. He then guided her to the center of the room and motioned for her to sit. Rayne sat with her arms hugging her knees to her chest and the old man sat before her. The old man took his position as before, legs crossed, with his hands resting lightly in his lap. He spoke to her and then motioned that she should copy his position. Rayne crossed her legs and rested her hands in her lap. He nodded and then moved slowly forward and repositioned her hands so that one rested in the palm of the other. He then motioned with his hands that she should touch her thumbs together and nodded with pleasure as she did so. He returned slowly to his seat and faced her. He said several more things which she couldn’t understand until finally he spoke two words in heavily accented English. “Focus” and “Breathe.”
Rayne closed her eyes and did as the old man asked. She breathed in slowly through her nose as Lena had taught her and then let it out slowly. After several minutes of breathing, the T80 side of her brain slowly backed away, but the nightmares pushed their way to the front. Rayne found tears streaming down her face and sorrow turning her smooth, calming breaths into shuddering gasps that threatened to overwhelm her. The old man spoke quietly and soothingly to her as though to a child or an injured bird. She took a deep breath, squeezed the images from her head, and then let her breath out in a slow stutter. She repeated the breath several more times as the old man spoke until she finally regained a slow, smooth rhythm. Her tears still flowed freely, but the grief wasn’t quite so overwhelming.
Rayne continued sitting quietly until her legs went numb and her nightmares finally receded. She blinked her eyes open to find the old man still sitting before her, deep in his own meditation. She rose quietly and walked the garden path back to her room, where she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
***
Abena woke the next morning and rolled from her bed to find herself already on the floor. It took a moment of confusion before she remembered where she was and why she was there. She’d slept in her tank top and uniform pants which were now wrinkled, and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, stumbled to the shower. She made a quick check to be sure Rayne was still in bed, then stripped and stumbled for the door. She passed the standard sink, mirror and toilet, but then stopped short, not sure what to do with what she saw before her.
There was a small square tub set on the floor, which was tiled and sunken down two steps. The tub measured about a meter square and had a water tap directly above it. A small bench sat next to the tub along with a clean hand towel, large bowl and bar of soap.
“What the hell?” She stalked back to the room, grabbing her ugly orange dress. She jerked it on, stepped out, and started pounding on Taft’s door. “Taft. Wake up, you lazy ass.” She kept knocking and when no one answered, she tried the door and found it open. She stuck her head inside, but Taft wasn’t there. She heard her name called from across the compound and saw Taft sitting cross-legged at a low table, apparently having breakfast. He waved as she stalked barefoot through the garden in his direction. As she got closer, she saw that he was having breakfast with a very old, very wrinkled, Asian man.
She stopped and stood before them with her hands on her hips and the sun at her back.
“Taft.”
“Hey, Abena.” He smiled widely. “Don’t you look beautiful this morning? The sun really compliments your figure.”
“Shut up, Taft. What the hell kind of place is this anyway? There’s no shower or anything.” The Asian man was looking at her with a large smile on his face. He bowed and kept watching her intently.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t get time to explain last night. Do you want to sit down?” He indicated an empty space across from him where a decorative cushion sat on the ground.
“No, Taft. I want a bath or a shower or whatever this place has.”
“Okay, but the breakfast is really good.” She didn’t recognize half of what was on the table and decided she could wait for that little adventure when she’d cleaned up.
“Maybe when I’m done. Now please explain.”
“This place is old school, Abena. Everything about it, up to a point. The bathrooms, too. You’ve got your choice. There are the communal bathing facilities over there in the corner. They’re not coed but everyone washes in the same big pool.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I thought not. That’s why they put the old school tub in the bathroom for those who are a little shy about their bodies.”
“I’m not shy about my body…”
“Obviously.” He exchanged looks with the old man, who nodded and smiled at her as he continued to eat.
“What?”
“Never mind,” he continued quickly. “It takes a little getting used to. Anyway, what you need to do is fill the tub up with water and press the button next to the faucet that says heat. When you push that, it heats the water to a nice toasty temperature.”
“Sounds an awful like I’m being cooked for dinner,” she observed a she crossed her arms.
“Doesn’t it, though?” He agreed as he cracked an egg onto his bowl of rice. “Anyway, you’re supposed to wash off before you get it…”
“Before?”
“Yes.”
“That’s weird.”
“Not if you’re sharing the water.” He took a sip from a small porcelain cup.
“True.”
“So scoop the water out with the bowl to get yourself all wet, clean up and then if you like, have a nice long soak in the tub.”
“Got it.” She turned and walked away and called over her shoulder. “Save me some breakfast.”
“Will do. Nice seeing you.”
“Shut up, Taft.” She walked to her room and entered quietly to find that Rayne was still asleep. She stepped past and then saw herself in the full length mirror that hung on the wall. “Bastards.” She cursed softly. The morning sun silhouetted her naked form through the dress’s thin material. She snorted. “Hope the old man has a heart attack.”
Abena enjoyed the long, hot soaking but longed to stretch her legs, which the small tub wouldn’t allow. But the water was nice and she sat back and watched the steam rise from the surface of the water. She closed her eyes and relaxed until she heard movement from the next room.
“R
ayne?” Abena waited for a response and several moments later Rayne stepped into the bathroom and looked around curiously. She appeared to be having the same thoughts about the tub Abena had had upon first look. “I know, weird, huh? Grab me the towel and I’ll explain.”
Rayne handed her the towel and Abena repeated the instructions given by Taft. Rayne nodded her understanding, and Abena waited in the main room for her to finish while looking through the remaining bags Taft had given them. She hoped for clothes that didn’t reveal so much of her form and found a pair of dark pants that fit reasonably well and a nice shirt that, while a touch too tight, looked good with the pants.
“Where were these last night?” she mumbled to herself and considered, not for the first time, what manner of death Taft should suffer.
By the time she’d dressed, Rayne had finished cleaning up and walked cautiously into the room. Abena noted she looked more rested than usual. Everyone in the squad had gotten into the habit of wearing ear plugs while sleeping, but it didn’t block out all of the nightly terrors the girl suffered, and she nearly always awoke with a hoarse voice and red, puffy eyes. Today, her eyes were clear and alert. Now that she thought about it, Abena hadn’t used her ear plugs last night and hadn’t heard Rayne at all.
She shrugged it off and waited quietly as Rayne dressed, choosing the same white sun dress as the day before, but skipping the hat and jacket. Her hair was a tangled mess on top of her head and Abena knew from experience that there was nothing to be done about it.
“Hungry?” She asked.
Rayne nodded.
“Let’s hope Taft left us something.”
They sat at the table, where Taft was still picking through the remains of his breakfast and sipping tea. They both looked skeptically at the meal before them, but tried a little of everything as they clumsily put it into their mouths with the unfamiliar chop sticks. Some of it they liked and some made them wonder if it was really ever meant to be eaten or to be used only as a garnish to make the food look pretty. Taft looked on, amused and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
The old man still sat at the table, quietly sipping his tea as he watched the group eat. His eyes kept coming back to Rayne, noting her constant searching and the occasional jerk as she moved in response to an unfamiliar sound. After it appeared they’d finished their breakfast, he rose slowly from his position and shuffled toward her.
Taft was instantly on his feet.
“Whoa. Mr. Yoshimura, that’s not a good…” The words died in his mouth and he sat back down, looking on in astonishment as Rayne let the old man take her arm and guide her to the garden structure. “What the hell just happened?”
“I’ve no idea,” Abena replied.
***
Rayne sat cross legged on the ground with her hand resting in the palm of the other as she had the night before. The old man spoke to her softly and motioned for her to close her eyes. She did so, and concentrated on her breathing again. The machine in her head, while not making demands for fight or flight, rippled across the surface of her mind. It tracked everything; it heard everything and formed plans and contingencies. An air car passed slowly in the street. There were ten birds flitting through the compound and she could give the exact position of each. Abena and Taft were arguing over an orange dress and its transparent qualities and she could hear the soft step of Mrs. Yoshimura as she walked the front sidewalk to the street. Rayne had four different escape routes pre-planned and had marked the most likely points of attack, the best angles, and the best cover. The data streams flowed through her mind and she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to embrace it, ignore it, or control it.
Rayne knew how to ignore the data streams. That was easy. She could turn those on and off any time she chose. But there was something more than telling the data streams in her head to shut up. What she struggled with was the rage and sorrow, mixed with the programmed impulse to strike out at anything she perceived as a threat. For three years, that instinct had included just about everything in her environment. Her human brain was confused and unable to act as the compass for the killing machine that shared the same space. She’d managed to fight it successfully for the most part, but it only took the right spark to send her off on a killing rampage. Up until now, the Tau Ceti had been her only victims, but she didn’t want the added misery and guilt of ending an innocent human life.
What she needed, Rayne decided, was control. She continued to concentrate on her breathing as she thought through what might help her achieve what she sought. There seemed to be two triggers most likely to launch her programmed impulses to attack: anger and sorrow. They were the focus that had allowed her to control the T80 and had dominated the whole of her life for three years. She was no longer stuck inside the machine, but the machine was still inside of her and sought what was familiar. It fed off the negative energy her human brain produced and was sharing an equally dominant role in the decision-making process. The recurring nightmares and flashbacks that fragmented her reality were making that decision process nearly impossible. She needed to put her own brain into the driver’s seat and kick the machine to the back.
Rayne wasn’t entirely sure how to go about taking conscious control, but looked back on the weeks she had spent with Lena and the other marines for answers. Was she better or worse than she’d been when first released from the suit? Rayne slowed her breathing further as she contemplated the answer to the question. Definitely better, but how had she achieved it? She searched through her memories, sorting and discarding the irrelevant. Her mind emptied for several minutes and she felt as if she were floating above the ground, until a word slowly took shape in her head.
Practice, she thought. That’s where the little control she possessed came from. It came from pushing the boundaries of her control. By standing on the abyss and staring down into insanity. It came by confronting her fear and anger in stages until she could take a little bit more. It had been Lena who’d done it. She’d pulled Rayne to the practice floor and made her fight until she nearly lost it, forcing her to the edge of her control and then telling her to step back under her own power. Each time she did it, she’d become stronger.
Rayne slowed her breathing further as well as the beat of her heart to compensate for the reduced oxygen being pulled from her lungs. Lena was not here to help her and she didn’t think Abena was capable of doing what needed done. She was nice, but Rayne could smell her fear. There was no trust as there had been with Lena and she’d need that if she was to use the hand-to-hand combat to help her gain more control. What if she pushed too hard? The squad wasn’t here to clear the room and wrestle her down if she lost it. She needed a better option.
Rayne was deep in concentration now and barely breathing. She drifted for what seemed like an eternity before coming back to herself, realizing she didn’t even have to leave her own head to do what she wanted. She could do what needed done right here, in the darkness of her own mind.
Rayne tracked several birds as they hurtled and spun through the garden structure where she and the old man sat facing each other like stone statues. They hovered for several seconds, the hum of their wings buzzing in her ears, before they darted out and over the garden wall. Rayne considered how she would approach her practice from every angle. She had to do it safely. There couldn’t be any mistakes. She’d start slow. Not too far at first, but increase the difficulty after each push. She’d use memories and scenarios made up in her head to push her to the edge. She’d look in the face of insanity, spit in its eye, and then turn her back and walk away.
But not now, because her butt and legs were so numb she could barely feel them and the rest of her body had finally realized she was barely breathing and had started clamoring for air. Rayne took a deep, slow breath and opened her eyes. The old man sat before her smiling. He reached over and patted her on the knee and said something she didn’t understand. She smiled in return,
her first in a very long time.
***
Dr. Gault walked purposefully through the halls of Athena Fleet Command. She was a frequent visitor and nodded greetings to many of the people she passed. She tried to maintain her pleasant politician face, but was having trouble keeping it pasted on. It had been two days and still the retrieval team hadn’t located her test subject. Dr. Gault did not like waiting. She’d just come from Admiral Rick’s office and he had assured her the team that had been sent was the best in the business. She was told these things took time and to let the professionals do their job. She’d been forced to endure his condescending tones with a smile on her face while she secretly imagined throwing a chair at his head.
She passed through a security check point and into another part of the huge, sprawling complex that made up Fleet Command. She needed a cup of something hot and steaming to calm her smoldering anger before she started throwing things at random people.
Two days! How long could it take to find one girl?
In the meantime, her team sat mostly idle in the lab going over Ms. Miller’s scans and notes for the hundredth time. Maybe she should have thrown something at the general. It might have gotten him to get off that fat behind of his and get something done. She took a moment to imagine a chair crashing over his head and then dispelled the thought as she walked into one of the building’s many small cafés. She’d invested too much time and energy into the man to burn that bridge. She’d spent years cashing in favors to get him to where she needed him, and to throw it away over a two day delay would have been a waste of a resource. He wasn’t the only chess piece on the board, though. Maybe she could light a fire under him by making another call and letting slip some information to someone a little higher up the food chain. She smiled as she contemplated the possibilities and wondered if it would be worth it or if she should just wait things out.