I stand in the middle of the foyer. It’s as vast as a hanger. I could park six of my shuttles on the floor. When I stare up, it’s impossible to judge the height of the cavern.
Am I truly alone?
“Hello?” My voice echoes off the walls, mocking my hope.
A glimmer of light catches my eye above. Another of those glowing orbs. I’m tempted to call out, but I bite my tongue. I’m not that desperate for company. Not yet. But if I was here alone for a year? Ten years?
Next time I see one of those lights I’m going to chase it and find out what it is.
I turn slowly, wondering where to start my explorations. There are no signs that I can see, and even if I found some, I wouldn’t be able to read them. I start on the ground floor, by the time I’ve done that it will be time to stop and eat. I break my day up in to parts, laying out the areas to explore, but not wanting to do it all in one day. I have to pace myself.
By moving I’ll stay warm, and if I get too cold, I can return to Indiz’s room. I hesitate, should I check on the fire? I don’t want it to go out, but I don’t remember seeing any wood in the room. Maybe I’ll find the wood store…and a bathroom. Every species goes to the toilet. Well, except for the Gyrrch and they are not humanoid. They are the kind of alien used to scare human children—which is unfortunate as they are brilliant ship designers.
I soon discover every room has the same twisting entrance. The ones on the ground floor sometimes have several, and they are wider. These are rooms designed for many people, but most of them are empty and I can’t discern their purpose. Another appears to be a kitchen. There are counters and storage and something that I think might be a tap, but I have no idea how it works or even if it does.
While everything is unused, nothing seems abandoned. It’s like everyone is out for the day and will be back to resume life. There are no critters or insects. I run my fingers over the smooth stone counter; there’s only a small film of dust.
The pots are huge and made of metal. I could fit in one with room to spare. I briefly consider using it as a bath, but the lack of water is a problem. Water is always a problem; it doesn’t matter whether that’s in space or on land. There’s snow I can gather and melt, but a city must have water. I stare at the tap that’s just out of reach, then climb onto the counter.
There are no buttons or dials.
I try to press what I think is the spout in, then up, and finally down. Water spills over the stone spout and into the sink. I pull my hand back and watch it run, clear and warm. I’m so tempted to have a drink. But I have no idea how long it’s been in the pipes or if it’s even safe to drink.
Maybe that’s why no one lives here anymore. They died from drinking contaminated water. I shut it off and jump down. I’ll stick with my food and water for the moment. I have enough food, and I can melt snow and purify the resulting water with the tablets in the emergency kit.
I wander into a few more vast chambers; one looks like an amphitheater. Did the people here put on performances? I sit in the back row, my feet not touching the ground. Everything here makes me feel small. It wasn’t built for humans.
No, it was built for people like Indiz.
I wish he’d told me where he was going and when he’d be back. Not that he owes me that information, but so I could plan my day better. That’s the excuse I want to believe.
I sigh and sit on the stone bench a little longer. There is no play, no music, no debate, no one to meet or talk to. No meal to share.
No one.
The next room is the last one on the ground floor, the entrance is under the stairs and through yet another crooked doorway. The air is warm and damp on my skin, and then I’m standing in front of what can only be described as an indoor lake. A heated lake. There’s actually steam rising off the surface.
My mouth pops open.
I expect something to loom out of the steam, but I can’t see anything in the lake. Aside from water dripping, there’s no other noise.
I guess I’ve found the communal bathroom. The mist and the heat and dripping water is unsettling. I want to walk around the room, but I’m rooted to the spot. What if something lives in the lake? Growing up, we were always told to stay away from large bodies of water because there were eels. Twice as long as a person, they could lurk in water that was only knee deep.
Every year farmers died because an eel made it into an algae pond.
I back away from the water. Then flee back into the cold, crisp air of the foyer. I can wash with a cloth and some fire melted snow. I don’t need to bathe.
I go back to the kitchen and take a wooden bowl, then I duck back into the brilliance of the day to fill it with snow. It’s only then I return to Indiz’s room.
The little piece of hope that he’d be waiting, dies as soon as I enter.
He’s not here to ask where I’ve been, or how I am.
It’s not even been a day and I’m falling apart. No matter how many times I tell myself I don’t need anyone. I’ve never been alone.
If he’s been here for years, why is he not eager for my company?
Do I repulse him?
Then I remember the way smiled. The way he held me and I’m even more confused.
