Day 11 of 100

Volume 1, Chapter 6

Location:
THE BREACH SHIP WAVERIDER
(ARGUS designation)
THE TIME SHIP WAVERIDER
(GRANT INNOVATIONS designation)

Deep below the bridge, in her hidden quarters, Catherine Grant was in the midst of some preparations of her own. Mist. Why did it have to be Mist Quarter? Now, to be sure, she had equipped this room a long time ago with just about anything someone would need to survive, living in the conditions she'd been forced to create for herself after Leonard Snart had absconded with her ship while she was still on it. It had required many an excursion while those who had settled on to the ship were either away or asleep, all the while covering her tracks so that no one would ever know she'd been there at all. It had been exhausting. Even so, as soon as she'd found out about the existence of this quarter, with its terrible air and worse water, she had gotten to feel a tiny bit of hypochondria and claustrophobia, and she had very nearly revealed her presence, rather than to be subjected to it. She had kept such an in-depth record of the air quality aboard the ship, about potential effects to the ship once they were in that place that it had enabled 'Cat' to further the Waverider's crew to figure out what needed to be done in subsequent visits to the place. And oh, curses, how there had been subsequent visits. Every one of them had left her with fits of hives she had to remind herself were caused by nothing but her own imperiled nerves.

And now… now they were heading out there, bringing many more people, recruits to the effort of putting an end to the use of the Mist water over in War Quarter. It would easily be the longest stretch of time they spent out in Mist, and if Catherine did not understand how very necessary it was, she would have been all too glad to have 'Cat' tell them she didn't recommend the journey. She could invent so very many ways for it to be warned against, each more alarming than the last. She might have rendered herself unconscious for a little while if not for that damned need to ensure her people wouldn't be left hanging if they needed her. So here she was, for better or for worse, strapped in and bracing for Mist.

Above, on the bridge, the feeling was perhaps not quite so worked up, but it wasn't so different either. The idea of going into Mist was never one met with smiles and anticipation, whether you'd been there before or not.

There were twenty of them, near twice as many as there usually was, and there weren't enough seats, which left several of them relegated to a 'hang on to something' sort of alternative. Even as the ship had taken off, all they could think about were Ralph's instructions and warnings about heading into Mist. The name almost seemed too harmless as he laid out the effects the quarter could have on them. The ship had been prepared, ensuring that it would be primed to ward off the passage of air from the outside into their vessel. The air out of Mist could give the most sophisticated system a run for its money in how insidiously it could find its way in. They could think they had the most impenetrable seals, and then, upon taking off again, scans would show the slightest lingering presence of that air in their midst. They had all been fitted with special masks, though here again a warning had to be given that it would only see to most of the air's touch, not all, even as the masks emitted an invisible shield around them that would have done as much as a full body suit could.

They had been walked through the effects they might feel as they crossed into Mist, then as they stepped off the ship. They were instructed never to disactivate or remove their masks for the duration of their time in Mist, unless they were there so long that they'd need to eat or drink, and if that was the case then of course they'd have to do it either back on the ship or in a building where they could be guaranteed the seals were in full effect, preferably at the ARGUS outpost. They were told about the bodies of water, which were gated and padlocked away, to protect anyone going near them, to prevent any incidents as there had been in the past. Though this only went so far, clearly, if the citizens of Mist were able to get hold of some water to see to their settlement on to Main Earth by carrying it across the breach. Then again, they didn't always need to try and get bottles of it from the gated lake… there was the rain. Ralph had warned the newcomers. The water that came from the skies was just as bad as the one already in the ground, and if it started, it would be best to run for cover. The more they'd heard, it left those of them who'd previously tangled with Mist breachers running on to Main Earth to feel like maybe they should have helped them more than sent them back, no matter what they did. No one deserved this…

The Waverider sailed over the city, and as they made for the breach, its passengers, in vast majority, unconsciously held their breaths.

Blue skies had surrendered to skies that might have been blue if they didn't look so sickly, lifeless, and seeing this served to set the mood aboard the Waverider as one of absolute dread before they could see anything more. And then they did see more. They saw the gates at once, impossible to miss where they stood. They saw a permeating lack of something and they couldn't quite put their finger on it at first, but just as soon it hit them… green… they couldn't see any green… No trees, no plant life, no gardens or parks… There was the ground… dust and earth. There were the buildings… gray, muted. And there were the people… so few of them walking about, looking like gatherings of cloth moving about as they attempted to keep themselves as covered as possible, but then the few faces they saw, turned up to take in the arriving ship, wore masks, too, and even from a distance it seemed like their eyes were a little dead. Those who were seeing it all for the first time felt, each one of them, an immediate rise of goosebumps, of heartrate, and those who had been there weren't entirely spared from this either.

Kara looked down to her wrist, to the band wrapped around it which, connected to her mask, gave her readings as to her surroundings. If her exposure got anywhere close to problem levels, she would feel a vibration against her arm, would see a warning flashing on the band. So far, no warnings, but the readings had changed already, like they'd gone from idle to active now that they were in Mist even if they were still on the ship. She turned her head to see Alexandra was doing the same thing, and so were many of the others, including Seeker.

"Didn't have gear like that when I first came here," she told Kara. "Was sick for weeks by the time I got out again."

The ship gave a rumble as it touched down, and then it sat still. The passengers were very still themselves. They knew what they'd come to do, but it did feel like none of them knew to do next now that they'd arrived. When Ralph got up from the pilot's seat, the others looked at him, awaiting his word.

"We need to check in with the outpost, but they won't know what the people will know. We'll need to speak with them, too. Now, they won't all be willing to talk to you, so be ready for that. Some will take convincing, others will shut you out completely so just… leave them be." He paused for a moment. "Some cope better with the conditions than others do. Some would give or do anything to get away, especially once they know that there are other places, places not like Mist. Be on your guard against attack and remember… as much as we would like to help them all, it is not in our power to do it." Two warnings, but both of them boiling down to one statement: don't get too close, physically or emotionally.

All of them were set to disembark, save for Winn, who was to stay on the ship and look after things from there, and so they moved to the airlock, met here with more instructions before one door could close and another open out before them. They could not smell the air that soon mingled in from outside, not really, but then they sort of did. Were they really smelling it or were they just imagining it, generated by so many instructions and warnings and the press of the masks that covered half their faces? Did it really feel heavy on them or was it all in their heads?

"Alright, boys and girls, this is your soundcheck, can you all hear me?" Winn's voice was in all their ears, and one by one they confirmed that yes, they could hear him. "Excellent, then proceed and… well, you already know," he added, rather than rattling off any further instructions that would only serve to spook them more than necessary. After he'd gotten off the comms though, he had a sudden thought, one he hadn't had until then, and he tore off at a run, heading down, down into the ship, until he reached the hidden space and tapped on the wall. "Miss Grant? You alright in there?" he shouted.

"No need to shout, Agent Schott," her voice came over speakers, and he startled, so used to hearing her this way but now having to remind himself she was an actual person talking to him.

"You got a mask in there?" he asked.

"I have everything I need, this isn't my first time sitting out you all flying my ship into this place. Now I suggest you get back to your post. I'd rather not be stuck here any longer than I have to be just because you were down here, fretting after me." He stood there, blinking for a moment before nodding and heading back to the bridge.

X

The air felt like dread, at once invisible and heavy on them, like deep humidity on a hot day even though it really wasn't humid at all. There was a light breeze, more taunting for what it carried than in any way peaceful. They hadn't come down cloaked, and now those people who were out and about were either scurrying for home or they stood and looked at them. There had been two reasons for coming to the surface like this. For one, the cloak would have put additional strain on them that they really couldn't have, not with the needs of their being in Mist. And for the other, they were coming here for information, for assistance, so if they people saw them, knowing who they were and what they did, they might luck out and find people willing to tell them what they needed to know. Then again… if this had been going on as long as it had, then they had been through here several times and no one had told them then, so why would they suddenly change their minds now?

"M'gann, Rip, Gideon, Slade, Patty, Rene and I will head to the outpost," Ralph addressed his group. "The rest of you…"

"You just took a lot of effort telling us how dangerous this place could be, and you're sending a bunch of people who have never been here out on their own, not knowing where is safe, where isn't?" Kara asked, cutting him off before giving him pause.

"I'll lead a group," Slade volunteered, soon joined by M'gann and Seeker.

"Right, sorry," Ralph nodded, and they dispersed, the rest of his initial lineup heading for the outpost, while the three group leaders split the rest of their team amongst themselves and headed into the city. Slade led Mag, Roy, and Rory one way. M'gann went with J'onn, Nyssa, Mike, and Jax. And Seeker guided Kara, Alexandra, Barry, and Eobard.

As they went, as they walked the streets of Mist, the feeling of this place, for so long little more than a story they'd heard at one time or another and suddenly very real and all around them… It felt like everything in them wanted to get out. They saw this place, this world that just didn't exist for being… enjoyed, for being nice to look at. This was a place you just sort of happened into, where you then had nothing better to do than to try and keep living… for some reason. They saw the people, and it was hard to see how any part of their lives would have nothing to do with this place they lived in. Maybe that wouldn't be true… hopefully…

What little they saw of faces, it was worse than it had been from a distance. A tenseness in the brow, a void in the eyes, and then a mask. Some of the faces showed scars, not from some injury or another but more like… like… like they'd been ill and now were left with these marks. Some of them seemed to have scars upon scars… multiple illnesses, dotting their lives. But they were still alive, they were still here. Survivors…

The worst was to see the children. They almost didn't feel like children. There was no running around, no laughter and discovery. They would walk along with their parents like they'd been drilled on the fact that they needed to keep up, always keep up, never wander off, because no one would ever stay out of doors any longer than they needed to be. Some of them looked weak, ill. Some would have to be carried by their parent, this in itself being an additional burden on an adult already weakened. Don't get too close.

The four groups as they dispersed, toward the outpost, toward the city, could not be ignored. They didn't belong like they belonged here, all of them walking with the strength they carried, not having lived here as others had. No one would come here unless they had to, and it made it that much more understandable why the people of War had been getting the people of Mist to bring the water to them rather than to go and get it for themselves. They wouldn't bother crossing into Mist either, no matter what their plans were.

They weren't all ARGUS, very few of them were, but the masks were ARGUS issued, which was as good as wearing the uniform where the people of Mist were concerned, and that decided how they responded to their approach. To run or to stay, to talk or to refuse to talk.

Every so often, a freshly acquired reflex saw them checking the band at their wrists. It was initially startling to notice how the readings had changed so dramatically in the five minutes since they'd stepped off the ship, though they were still far from being in trouble. As they'd been told when they'd received their masks, this would be considered base level, the effects of being in Mist, despite their personal shields. All of them had agreed to help stop the Mist water from being used as a weapon, solely on the basis that it was the right thing to do, but now… now they had seen all this, felt it, and the idea of how much worse it could get… They couldn't let it happen.

TO BE CONTINUED (tomorrow, in volume 2)