“Everybody is so impressed and scared by the ONEs that are bigger than the sky, but everybody forgets they’re not the sole dominant life forms out there. No one ever thinks of the smaller ONEs indistinguishable to the naked eye, even though you hardly see either. Before the humans, before the primordial slime, before the plants, before the bugs, there were the FIRST ONEs.”
“I’ve never even heard of - ”
“Even the Ancient ONEs fear the FIRST ONEs, because they don’t conform to social norms. They appear suddenly and strike without warning, and then disappear from the scene just as quickly, once they’ve reached their quota.”
The Girl didn’t bother saying anything else between bites. For people who cared so much about Viruses, they didn’t have much esteem for the lives holding them, not even their own.
While she was normally outspoken in issues like these, she found herself being uncharacteristically silent. These guys were talking a bunch of nonsense, spouting profound truths that could be easily broken apart with rational thought. And yet, she refrained from making any snide comments that could put her in a bad light.
The Girl learned her lesson quickly. The best method of self-preservation was to just calmly smile and nod, and look like she was complying with them. It was far better to just let them ramble on and agree to everything they said, no matter how nonsensical it sounded. It was the fastest way to end the conversation.
Or monologue, since their dialogues mainly consisted of:
“...spread to a wide range of influential people in high positions...”
“Uh-huh.”
“...kept to a limited number to keep them from running amok...”
“Uh-huh.”
...subtly altering their usual routine without their ever noticing anything changing...
“Uh-huh.”
“...that continues after following their intended program to completion.”
“Uh-huh.” Every once in a while, she would repeat something back she dimly heard to give the illusion she understood whatever they were talking about. She had long since mastered the art of listening without actually listening at all.
Apart from that, there wasn’t much to do but eat and sleep. Despite being surrounded by people who constantly catered to her every need, she never felt more alone in her life.
There was never a moment of privacy where she could think about what she’d been told, which came as a torrent of information constantly poured in her direction. Any hesitation on her part would be looked upon as resistance, and they’d double down on their lectures, making her doubt her convictions. There wasn’t anyone she could open up her true innermost thoughts to.
The closest confident she had was the Lady Doctor, and she began to loath her daily trips there.
“Well, despite your unhealthy lifestyle and diet plan, your baby looks quite healthy!”
“Great...” she muttered with not much enthusiasm.
“Such a great will to live, just like the mother!”
She didn’t particularly care for these words of praise, no matter how flattering they sounded. It always felt more like backhanded compliments, where the thing inside her was valued far more than the flesh sac surrounding it, keeping it from escaping.
Sometimes she felt like she was in a flesh sac herself. The surroundings were suffocating, and she felt the constant need to go out, despite all their attempts to deny her so.
“I want to go out.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“I need some air.”
“You have all the air you ever need”, they said, pointing to an oxygen container.
“I want fresh air.”
“This is fairly recent”, they said, looking at the publication date. “Here, take a whiff for yourself.” They wrapped a mask on her face against her feeble protests, even as the deluge of compressed air brought welcome relief to her overworked nostrils. “Just smell that bracing breeze! Just as good as the real stuff!”
However, the sudden influx of unneeded oxygen made her unusually drowsy - well, drowsier than usual - and she mercifully passed out.
Seeing that forcibly injecting air up her nose wasn’t the wisest course of action, they figured that they should at least meet with her halfway. She would be permitted to go out in a secluded area of their time and choosing, when they were certain that conditions were right for her to wander about a bit without being seen.
She was restricted to an alleyway barely five steps wide, where she could only pace back and forth, measuring the distance between walls under their watchful glares.
“Every once in awhile, conditions will be right that there’ll be a cushion created by the windswept currents, creating a brief blind spot window, resulting in a temporary safety zone. After that, you’ll have to come in before the overhead radiation reveals its ugly head.”
She didn’t really care about the particulars. There was no need to know all the technical details. All that mattered was that there was a bubble of air that showed up at a particular time, and she could walk. That’s it. That’s all she needed to know. The rest was just needless details.
She swung around within the narrow space, grateful to exercise old muscles that had long since atrophied. Ironically enough, after that reprieve, she wanted access to the oxygen cannister, since it brought her such relief, but they were worried about damage to her internal organs.
Her every action was being carefully scrutinized, out of fear that her baby might be damaged. All this precaution and security for any perceived threats, real or imagined seemed excessive, whether any dangers existed or not. All the attention was nice at first, but had become increasingly alarming. Actually, it had been disturbing straight from the start.
Shortly after that little excursion, she was visited by another Protist. She prepared herself for another one-way lecture, but that wasn’t the case this time.
“You’ve got a visitor.”
She was surprised. Who could possibly know she was here? She’d frequently asked if the Samaritan was coming back anytime soon, and the answer was always no. For a brief moment, she thought that maybe, just maybe, the Gloved Man had somehow tracked her down to this desolate place. But after she was accosted across multiple rooms, she saw to her disappointment who it was. It was someone she’d met in the past, but not someone she wanted to meet again.
It was the Official wearing broken spectacles.
“Are you aware you’ve been swinging your arm outside of your workplace?”
“You came all the way down here for that? I haven’t worked there since I was let go.”
“That’s all well and good”, the Spectacled Official said, making a mark on his datapad. “Just know better for next time, and refrain from doing it again in the future.” And he got up and headed towards the door.
The Spectacled Official was leaving without doing any followup. Despite being surrounded by all sides, she decided to take her chances. “Wait! Can’t you help me out?”
“With what? You seem well taken care of.”
“I don’t feel safe around these people.”
“That’s not my department. And really, it’s none of my business.”
“It should be your business!”
“You can file a request that’ll be followed up 6 months later.”
What was this constant need for regulations? For delaying taking care of problems that could be taken care of right now? And why always 6 months? That was as long as her job was supposed to last!
As she futilely watched him leave through the door under the friendly gaze of the Protists, she began to understand the network this group had. Just how far-reaching was their sphere of influence? Was it possible they were responsible for her getting fired from the Factory? She had no way of knowing.
It was obvious at this point that if the Gloved Man hadn’t shown up at this point, he wasn’t going to show up by now. She needed to stop relying on someone who hadn’t done anything since their first meeting, and start relying on herself.
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