Galaxy's Captive

Chapter 2 - Going Crazy -

Mayra

The pain at her temple brought her back. “Great galaxies.” She coughed. “Muziq?” Her voice was hoarse. She hacked trying to clear her throat. “Muziq are you out there?” Still no response.

She staggered to her feet. Dizzy with the memory of pain. Right now she would love to hear the sultry, sarcastic voice of her shot. Or the needling taunts of her pilot. Muziq and Jaris weren’t exactly her friends. They didn’t spend any more time together than necessary. But their feelings were familiar. The only person she considered a friend was William, and it took years for that to flourish. And now he was her fiancee. He was going to be so worried.

No, she couldn’t think about him. For the same reason they weren’t in each other's squad. Thinking about Will would distract her. Weaken her. And she couldn’t afford that. She had to be alert.

She staggered over to the faucet for more of that gritty water. It wasn’t refreshing. But it was wet, and wet was all she needed right now. After depressing the button, a pathetic stream trickled from the spout. Water didn't seem like a regular commodity here. After opening her mouth wide under the stream and taking all the water it produced, she looked around again.

With no window outside, it was impossible to gauge how much time passed. Not to mention she’d lost consciousness at least twice. She had to make a conscious effort to stay awake now.

Staring up at the ceiling, she came to the only reasonable explanation. She was on Jup, or possibly Mars. There was talk that there were Outer Planet sympathizers among the Martian population. Her stomach rolled. Though she'd been on the Force for over a year, she had still yet to step foot on another planet. The terraformed Jupiter felt foreign even though there was no evidence of her location. Her body felt foreign. Like she occupied too much or too little space. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the feeling had her rolling her shoulders and stretching her muscles out.

Whatever the mission was, they'd been made. With her memories splintered glass in her mind, there was nothing else to go on.

Slowly she made her way back to the force field. The field was too dense to see through clearly and the closer she got the more the energy tingled her skin. She lifted a cautious hand close to the light. Her skin tingled and prickled and the fine red hair stood at attention on her arms. An uncomfortable surge started and tightened in her chest. Though the uncomfortable feeling grew, she didn’t leave the spot.

Closing her eyes and slowing her breath, she reached out to feel any emotions in the space immediately outside her cell. Her mod was difficult to control this close to so much raw energy. It interrupted her feelings of the electrical pulses in a person's brain. But if she could feel someone out there, that would be a start.

You’d think reading and feeling emotions would be helpful. But everyone expressed their emotions differently. So everyone was different to gauge. Some people are very literal. So their feelings show up as words either spoken or written like a book.

They were her favorite. They were simple. Unfortunately, very few people emote this way. Some people are musical, and their emotions are like instrumentals and symphonies, others like ballads. Visual people were like paintings, and colors and lines. And it took time to decipher how each person's feelings materialized and just what they meant.

So, in the heat of a battle, it’s none too helpful. But for winning an argument with a colleague, it worked great.

With her eyes scrunched shut she cast her net wider.

Nothing. She couldn't feel anyone outside.

She expanded her reach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say she was in here all alone.

“That can’t be right.”

She didn’t even feel Muziq and Jaris. She should have, she knew them well.

Muziq was well…musical. But not soft melodic music. She was percussion. When she was calm and content, the gentle rolling calypso drum. When she was riled up, a whole drum line procession. Jaris was more physical, Mayra could read him like a touch. When he’s angry it’s like a punch to the face, happy is the clenching in your stomach when you laugh. She wasn’t getting any familiar reading.

Could they be…

She shook her head. Swallowing the bile that wanted to bubble up.

If they were, she would move past it. She would find a way out. She would find a way home to let their loved ones know. To let the Space Force know. To honor them.

With nothing to do. Nothing to feel. No real plans to make, she laid on the cot. It was more comfortable than the floor. She hummed to herself to block out the incessant hum that was her entire existence right now.

The next time she woke, it was to a ferocious growl in her stomach.

“Woah, there Tiger,” Mayra rasped. “No need to shout, I’m sure the gazelle will graze past any moment now.” She chuckled dryly at her joke. “Do tigers even eat gazelles? Do they even live in the same habitat?”

She stumbled over to the faucet. Hoping the water would flow freely again. But of course it didn't. Not even a trickle.

Her chuckle was darker now. Her involuntary swallow mourned the loss of the gritty hydration. Taking a deep breath, she jiggled the handle on the faucet, put all her energy into it, pulling with all her weight. Not a drop loosened. She growled pulling against the entire mechanism. The metal scraped her fragile skin. A bright red gash appeared but blood didn’t trickle.

Mayra banged her fist on the wall near the faucet a few times before she gave up. She moved back to the cot and let sleep take her.

*****

“You have to find a way to gauge time." She said aloud, "Even if it’s just a guess. How long do you think we’ve been here?”

We? You’re literally talking to yourself. There is no we. And short of me counting out the minutes, there is no way to say how long it’s been.

“But if you had to guess?”

Considering I’m still conscious and semi-lucid, it can’t be that long. Definitely less than a week, considering how I haven’t had food in most of the time I’ve been here. Three days, four tops.

“Wow, you’re just going to ignore me then. All we have is each other and you won’t even acknowledge me?”

I am you. Also, I shouldn’t be talking so much. I’ll dehydrate faster.

“That isn’t a thing.”

Shut up!

Fine! Talking was hurting anyway.

Mayra wondered if anyone was watching her one-sided conversation with herself. She wondered if they remembered her at all. What was the point of this mindless captivity? She had taken to doing dynamic stretches every time she woke from sleep. But the movements were becoming less dynamic and more lethargic. The energy it took to complete the exercise depleted her reserves too quickly. When she woke next, she hadn't gotten up from the floor she rolled onto sometime, let’s say last night.

I never thought I’d be captured by the Outer Planets and they’d just let me starve to death. Or thirst to death. Is thirsting to death a thing?

Shut up, her grumpy side chastised.

You know you’re awfully mean to yourself. When we get home, we’re going to have to work on your self-love.

…

I can feel you rolling your eyes.

Oh my god! They’re your eyes. Mayra giggled.

This mental exercise was keeping her spirits, not up per se. But levitating a half inch off the ground.

Okay, get up. Let’s stretch. I don’t actually think these people went through all the trouble of bringing us here just to watch us slowly waste away.

She didn't move one inch off the ground.

Come on! Let’s stretch for 5 minutes.

No way!

Okay…two minutes.

No.

A minute…

Okay, fine. Together they came to a crumbled but upright position.

…And a half.’Mayra thought cheerfully.

But even the thought of being on her feet that long was too much for her body to handle. Her strength left her. Her knees buckled. She aimed for the cot but crumbled to the ground. The pain where her body connected with the floor didn't stir her. Like it happened to someone else. Mayra passed out once more.