Two Halves: chapter 30

chapter 30.... wood chuck

Nicolas was the first to wake up in the morning. He had not slept well the previous night, and his dreams had been permeated with strange images and slivers of his past. Everything from memories of his days at the academy to aerial views of mountain covered in metal at filled his thoughts. He had just waken up from a particularly bad nightmare, and knew now he could not get back to sleep. He sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes; around the room the others were still sleeping.

 

Bestalel sat flatly on his back, his arm tucked to his sides. In contrast Zeckle had tossed and turned during the night pulling up her sheet into a tight cocoon around herself. She was snoring loudly, which only slightly drowned the noises that were still filtering in from outside.

 

Nicolas swung his legs around and set for a few moments facing the wall, and then looked to the small bedside table at the foot of his bed. A small morph-holo clock sat there, he reached over and touched the button on the base of the machine. Morph-holos had been all the rage for years since their invention, a small prism crystal carefully etched to allow it to display the time in a small 3-D image. He fiddled with the button along the base until he could set it to Earth-1 standard time. The numbers read 4:21 a.m. in a soft glowing green.

 

Their transport to Earth-1 was scheduled to leave that morning at 8:00 a.m. Earth-1 standard, when the morning commute would be at its peak, and security checks would be rushed. Not that there was a high chance of them being caught, but Bestalel wanted to reduce the even minute percentage by as much as possible. Nicolas silently pulled his suitcase form under the bed and retrieved a small cake of soap, and the clothing he was going to use for the transport. He then attempted to quietly get up out of bed and exit the room, and once in the hallway decided that he was going to get ready as soon as possible.

 

Down the hallway was a communal bath/wash room. He entered the male side of the structure and proceeded towards the shower stalls. Luckily no one else was in there at the moment as he striped down and found a towel. The towels hung on long metal racks in front of the row of showers. When he had left Earth-1 he had barely considered bringing soap, and now was glad he brought it. The thin bars of soap sitting on the small ledges in the shower stalls looked unhealthy with a yellowing waxy appearance.

 

Nicolas turned on the hot water and let it run slowly down himself. It had the heavy smell of the filtered water they had here. That was why alcohol was so prevalent in non-space, the water had to be filtered dozens of times to become remotely drinkable. His skin felt slightly slick from the still lingering purifying chemicals in the water while he washed himself. He did it slowly and methodically. Letting his appearance slip today was not a option, if there was even a hint that he wasn’t a business man going to Earth-2 to make a business deal he might get caught. He couldn’t let that happen, not now. They had already come so far towards their goal, being stopped by a simply security checker would be pathetic.

 

He finished up and exited the shower, and retrieved his clothing from a small locker nearly the towel racks. It was his pinstriped suit. Even though it had been dirty when he put it into the demon’s sack it had come back up clean pressed and ready to wear. Even the tie seemed to have been given special care. The pattern was clean and shining. He straightened the blood red tie around his neck as he exited the bathroom. After sneaking back to deposit his sleep clothes in the demon’s sack he sneaked downstairs and into the bar.

 

It was a good deal quieter than it had been earlier. A large portion of the population of non-space ran on Earth-1 standard time, and only the earliest of wakers were out at this time. He sat in one of the booths in the quieter half of the bar, and waited for someone to come and take his order. A few others were eating their breakfasts at adjacent tables. One man was devouring a small stack on pancake with considerable gusto, and from the kitchen there were small clanks of pots of pans and a deep male voice as he called out orders and commands.

 

A young woman walked over wearing the same uniform Heather had on earlier. Nicolas’s thoughts shifted to her. She had to be safe with Darris; Bestalel would have made sure of that. Nicolas looked out towards the market as she approached his table. The thick throng of people was noticeably thinner, but by no means diminished.

 

“What will ya have, hun?” said the woman in a kindly voice. She was a good bit older than Heather, and a few wrinkles lined her face. Nicolas looked back towards the man with pancakes.

 

“What ever he has, I’ll have one as well.” Nicolas said doggedly. He was still tired and wanted to get some food in him. She wrote something down on a pad and walked back towards the kitchen behind the bar. He heard the deep male voice bellow out a new string of orders as she entered the kitchen.

 

Nicolas leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes, letting the warm atmosphere of the room wash over him. The smell of cooking breakfasts had overpowered the faint industrial odors that always covered the city. He sat there for a few minutes waiting for his meal, and after a while he heard the clank of a plate on his table. He opened his eyes to see that it was not the woman, but Zeckle who was holding the plate. She sat down in the space next to him, and began to devour Nicolas’s food.

Author's Note

No pancakes for Nicolas...

Reviews

[Miss Coral]

Poor Nicolas, getting robbed like that. :c

Another great chapter-- sometimes it's a good idea just to take a break from the action. You did this well, moving it along while pausing for a moment. Taking a breath. Great job.

[Dutch Jr.]

Keep it moving. Pretty decent chapter.

[James Watts]

Moving along. This seemed like a pausing chapter, like you are trying to get your bearings on where to take it next. Not too bad.