So Far Away Ch. 01

For now, the pain was gone.

She lay on the slender, gray, pad inset in the wall of her cell and enjoyed the pain free time that she was experiencing for the time being. She was moderately thankful that the bed, which was the best way to describe it, was accommodating. It was never too hot or too cold and when she lay on it for a few moments it seemed to conform to her body to make her rest more comfortable.

Comfort. She missed comfort. She missed her bed with all of its fluffy pillows, she missed a hot cup of tea, and she missed a hot bath with candles.

But what she missed the most was her family, friends and the smiling faces of her students. She missed the sound of her mother humming as she cooked, and the sound of her father's voice as he explained something to her. She missed the song of laughter that her friends generated when they got together for movies or dinner. She missed the wide eyed wonder, and the hugs of her kindergarten students.

She closed her eyes to the pale, slightly blue, ambient light of the cell. She ran through her mind all the things she didn't want to forget.

The sound of spring peepers, the way sweat peas smelled when they bloomed, the silky fur of her cat Major. The colors of the sun rising and setting, the sound of rain coming through the leaves of the oak trees, the sound of the arctic wind blowing though the bare, tree branches in the winter. The color, warmth and smell of a wood fire and... human touch.

There was no way of knowing how long she was with them. There were no windows, no time telling devise that she could discern. There was no way to determine how long she slept, when she did sleep, and there was no way to judge how long they tortured her.

It was excruciating pain at times, the torture. Her sheer terror made the pain so much worse. The needles, the blades, the drills, the light, the scans and the other devices that she couldn't name but caused just as much pain. These were what her worst nightmares were made of.

She would sob, scream and plead to them. She would swear at them and curse them. But all they ever did was stare at her blankly with their large, inhuman, black eyes.

As time passed she stopped fighting back because she knew it was useless. And when they performed their exams and tests she retreated into herself. She went to the past.

She was a girl again. She was swimming in the cool, pond water with her three older brothers and their cousins on a hot, summer day. Diving down into the dark depths where the water became colder the darker it got. She could sometimes see the sun fish dart away from her when she dived. When she could no longer hold her breath she would shoot to the surface, breaking through with a splash and a large intake of fresh air. After she and the others played themselves out she would climb onto the floating wood platform and lay on her back with the others. They would lie panting as they caught their breath, drifting into a semiconscious state under the blue sky. There was no wind, only the sound of the cicadas.

Another time, she was a teenager searching the hay loft for the new litter of kittens her father told her about. It was the end of summer, almost the beginning of fall, the golden light of the late afternoon came in through the gaps between the slats of the barn wall like knife blades. As she moved though the hay, her feet would stir up the loose hay particles on the floor, causing them to fly into the air. The mewing of the newborn kittens guided her to a dry, warm corner of the loft. After looking them over she found them to be healthy and would have to find homes for the three kittens. She pet the mother cat, knowing the baby sitting money she had been saving up for the summer was going to get her fixed.

The mental retreats she took saved her sanity. It was her defense mechanism.

It was silent when she awoke, but she was sure that some noise had roused her from her sleep. It wasn't the normal hum of the ship. It was also not any of the sounds she had become accustomed to.

She lay still for a time, straining her ears to hear what she believed woke her. She could hear her heart beat in her ears, her quiet breathing and the hum of the ship around her. Closing her eyes to the pale, blue light, she blocked out her own noise and the noise of the ship and listened.

And then, she heard it. Almost like a rustling of a curtain when the window is open a crack. What was it? It was so faint that, had she not truly listened, she wouldn't have heard it. It was intermittent. She lay as still as a corpse as she listened for the sound.

In the next few moments she recognized a pattern, there was a rhythm to it. It was a low sound; surely it wasn't mechanical. It was something alive, she was sure of it.

She rose from her bed, her bare feet touching the cool floor. The hem of the light gray, smock they gave her brushed her mid thigh, and she felt her long, wavy hair fall down her back.

She tilted her head to the ceiling, that incidentally matched the floor and walls of her cell, and listened again. The sound did not come from around her, like the ship's hum, it seemed to come from her right.

She took a few steps to her right and listened again. The sound became slightly louder, almost recognizable. Her feet took her closer to the wall of her little cell and the sound could be heard even more clearly.

It almost sounds like... she stopped her thought.

No, don't get your hopes hope, don't fool yourself, you are alone, there is no one else on this ship, no one.

But still.

She faced the wall now. Her heart thudding in her ears because, though she may have stopped the thought, her heart wanted her to believe. Her hands came up to the wall, caressing it, hoping that it would yield what she wanted to know. Was there someone else on this ship?

And then the unmistakable sound reached her ears; she gasped, her heart nearly exploding her chest. She pressed herself against the cool wall. It was a voice; a male voice.

"Hello?" she called hopefully.

The voice stopped.

"Is there someone there?" She paused for a moment, "Please, if there's someone there..."

She slid down the wall to her knees on the floor, her body trembling in hopes of another human on the ship.

"My name is Jen... Jensen... is anyone there?"

Silence.

"Please, say something!"

And then the voice, she couldn't make out any words, but it was closer. Possibly on the other side of the wall; hopefully on the other side of the wall.

She began to laugh, and cry, then both at the same time. She was not alone!

How? How was this voice reaching her? The walls had to be thick, or at least sound proof. Where was this voice coming from?

"The vents..."

When she first came to the ship she spent many hours awake, unable to sleep, too traumatized to dare closing her eyes, so she studied the cell.

At the base of both the left and right walls, were four rectangular holes spaced equally apart. She thought they were vents for air, but now her brain spun with hope. What if they connected the cells?

She lay on the floor, her body stretched out, next to one of the vents.

"Can you hear me?"

The voice came again, it was definitely male.

"Go down by the rectangular holes on the wall, if you can understand me," she called through.

Please, she thought to herself, let him hear me!

His voice reached her ears louder and clearer than ever, but she couldn't understand him. He spoke another language.

"Where are you from? I'm from America, Connecticut. My name is Jensen. Where are you from? Do you speak English? When did they take you? What is your name?"

She reached her hand through the hole, hoping to not hit something that would bite her, or cut her, or worse. She had her arm the entire way in, "Damn," she whispered to herself.

He spoke to her. She didn't understand him, at all. She didn't recognize his language. It wasn't Spanish, French, German, Italian, or any language that she might recognize. They must have taken him from the other side of the Earth.

She pulled her arm out and looked through the hole; it was dark but she thought that maybe she saw the pale bluish light on the other side. It could also be her imagination.

"Damn," she swore again, "damn, damn!"

"Hello?!" She called loudly though the vent. Don't be an idiot, she thought to him, go to the vent...

Silence. And then, "Nihltze?" His voice was loud and clear. He was there; he was at the other end of the vent.

She began to cry, to really cry. He was talking to her, in a calming voice but she couldn't help it. It poured out of her, like a dam that broke within her.

"Reach for me," she called between her tears, "through the vent." She smacked the palm of her hand down on the cool metalish floor of the vent, making sound to draw his attention.

Again she stuck her entire arm into the vent.

His fingers startled her at first and she yelped but then their hands intertwined. Human touch, human warmth, human fingers. The tears came again and she squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

He kept talking to her, his voice low and quite, soothing and reassuring. Jensen understood none of what he said, but it didn't matter.

After a time her tears stopped, but she continued to hold onto his hand. She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but she knew that he continued to speak to her in his lovely voice and not once did his grasp on her and falter.

There was one thing that her brain seemed to grasp in her delirium was 'Dānoar'. She didn't know how but she knew this was his name. Dānoar, she thought to herself while he spoke softly to her, we are in this together now.