Tim remembered a white-hot light which temporarily blinded him, followed by the sensation of falling. But I shouldn't be able to see anything...right? The mask he'd been gifted by his captor was still in place. He proved it to himself by reaching up to touch the smooth texture of the device, and then clawing it off his eyes.
The sight of blinking yellow lights lining the ceiling was surprising, as was the tremendous lurch of the room in which he was imprisoned. Tim had no time to adjust for the motion, and tumbled off the uncomfortable table upon which he'd been lying.
The world tilted as he stared overhead, and the turtle couldn't figure out if it was his head playing tricks on him, or the actual cabin of the space ship was spinning. It didn't seem safe to try moving in either case, but he couldn't just lie on the floor and wait for something to happen.
With a grunt he rolled upright, grateful for the energy to move. He glared at the band covering his forearm, and tested pulling on it again to no avail. The room shook violently, and then pitched so hard that he collided with the wall. This can't be safe. Doesn't this thing come with seat-belts? Shouldn't someone be checking on me?
Against his better judgment, Tim tried to rise once more, and staggered a couple of steps before his knees buckled. Even if the band wasn't presently turned on, it was clear he hadn't recovered from whatever they'd been doing to him. I may not be able to do anything yet, but I can't do nothing.
The contradictory statement matched the confusion racing through his mind. Something's happening, and it doesn't seem like anyone is coming for me. Are we under attack? Crashing? Going through a meteor shower? How many things can go wrong when you're traveling through space? Only about a billion, I suppose.
He rested on his knees for a moment, cringing when the floor shook beneath him. Tim took a couple of deep breaths to control the rising fear, and tried to feel. The cold sensation of being boxed in was the only thing that met him, and it left the teen more concerned than before. Charlotte is still out there. She must be! And if I'm in trouble, she is too.
Dark eyes flew open in alarm at the sound of an explosion nearby. The turtle crawled forward, until he was within inches of what he thought was the door. All the walls looked the same, and the hatch closed so seamlessly it was hard to tell.
Pressing both hands against the floor for support, he got to his feet and leaned against the hard surface while trying to get his bearings. It felt cold to the touch, which was a little encouraging. If there was a fire, it'd be hot, right? If this material conducts heat, that is.
When he felt steadier, he pounded on the supposed door with one fist. "Hello? Hello! What's happening out there? Is anyone coming for us? HELLO!" Tim finished much louder than he'd started, on the verge of desperation. There was no reply or action of any kind which he could detect from his side.
The turtle pounded until he felt the skin on his palm split from the contact. "Come on! You can't leave us here! Someone freaking open UP!"
The flashing lights over his head dimmed then went out, sending him into pitch darkness. Tim grappled with the wall, searching along the perimeter to see if there were any cracks to give away the hidden door. They wouldn't build a room with no way out.
The ground reverberated beneath him, right before the "foundation" rolled and pitched Tim off his feet yet again. But this time when he hit the opposing wall, he was pinned by some invisible power. First he suspected the band on his arm had been activated, before muddied thoughts connected centripetal force as the culprit.
Tim groaned in agony as he struggled to do little more than lift his head a couple of inches, but he wasn't satisfied to die clueless. If I'm going down, I want to know what's taking me out! The morbid thought was the one reason he didn't panic, strangely enough. He braced tensely for something to happen, but he wasn't prepared for a sudden throbbing in his skull, or the nausea which assaulted his stomach.
Between the new physical sensations, it took him another moment to recognize he couldn't take a proper breath. It's going to end here alone in the dark? That's about the least exciting way to go I can imagine. I mean, I'd rather be blown to bits in a glorious fireball than suffocate while I'm waiting to die...
Bewildered thoughts melded together with the crushing pressure in his chest. Keeping his eyes open was pointless, since he couldn't see anything. After the drama of the last few minutes, letting go felt like little more than floating away on air.
It was pain that brought Tim back to himself; a radiating sharp jolt which traveled the entire length of his leg, starting with his hip. That was when he realized he hadn't died, with a small amount of disappointment. It means I have to get up. If I can.
He opened his eyes, and was startled to find light shining in through shattered ceiling. The teen stared up at the opening for a good minute, contemplating what he had the energy to accomplish.
Tim sat up on his elbows finally, and his stomach rolled with the rocking motion of the floor beneath him. We crashed? We must have. But then, why are we still moving? He fixed on the fissure in the roof and focused to gather his wits. We're not in space. If we were, we'd be dead from exposure. And I'm not. I don't think.
Cautiously he sat up further, and glanced down at his leg. Tim tentatively raised the injured limb from the floor, gasping at the painful response. But it doesn't feel broken. More like impaled. I could probably still use it.
The teen didn't want to move at the moment, but his choices were few. When he squinted at the ceiling this time, he followed the damage track to where it continued down the wall. He inched toward the crevice and sensed fresh air filtering in, along with a scent he recognized, but couldn't place. I know I've smelled it before, but the shell if I can figure it out right now.
Regardless of what the scent was, the air drew him like a magnet to investigate. Biting his lip, the turtle worked his way to his feet, favoring his bad leg. Rising produced both dizziness and more nausea. It took several deep breaths to control the urge to get sick, and then to make it three steps.
He collapsed before reaching the opening, and lay on his plastron panting heavily. The repeated pitching motion of the remnants of his prison further complicated his stomach. Tim had no choice but to stay still, and wait for some of the feeling to subside. Impatience was kindled by his inability to do such a simple task.
Head pulsing and chest heaving, Tim wondered how much time he had left. I also can't help wondering why I feel so calm about it. Shouldn't dying bother me? Why am I okay with this? He was still contemplating the questions when he felt a mist of water, and turned his head toward the cracked structure. What was that?
Curiosity renewed, he pulled himself together to drag his frame a few more feet. Tim peered out of the opening, and saw a patch of brilliant blue sky. The comforting vision made him exhale in relief, but it didn't explain what was going on.
Now he also picked up a sound which was reminiscent of the wind, but it seemed...different. Tim squirmed to get through the fissure, maneuvering his body to avoid being cut by sharp edges. The effort wasn't entirely successful, but the small snags weren't enough to stop him.
With some determined wriggling he finished breaking out of his prison and took a deep breath of fresh air, before blinking rapidly in the bright light of his surroundings. The sight of azure water on every side made him stiffen. The small waves washing against the remaining wreckage made sense of everything.
So we did crash. But where's everyone else? Not that all of them mattered. The only one Tim was concerned about was his cousin. The urge to panic seized the turtle again and he rapidly looked left and right, searching for signs of life.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, he finished scrambling through the remnants of the ship, nearly getting hung up on his shell. Tim clung to the side of wreckage for dear life when it was rocked by a larger wave, and then tried to climb higher. The effort was futile; he felt himself sliding on the wet surface before he'd made it a single foot.
Tim tried to catch hold of the ruptured ship when he slipped, but gravity coupled with general weakness resulted in not being able to grip it. He plunged into the water with a gasp, and immediately began treading to stay afloat. The teen was grateful it wasn't cold, but the salt water still stung his leg like fury, and further frustrated his situation. I can't be the only one who survived off this thing. Where are the others?
Tim stayed near floating wreckage for the shield it provided from breaking waves. I'd even be happy to see one of those freaky aliens at this point, because they would at least pull me out. He rubbed water from his eyes and grimaced at the new pain emanating from his knee, which seemed associated with trying to swim. If I could just get back on the ship...
Tim circled the remnants slowly, searching for something to help him climb out of the ocean, but a full circuit did nothing except make him wearier. This is ridiculous. I didn't die in the crash, but now I'm going to drown in the ocean? How much luck can a turtle have? Never thought I'd want someone to grab me. If I could see one of those bad guys, I'd flag them down and everything...
Annoyed by his own inner rambling, Tim shielded his eyes against heat beating down on him, and suddenly realized there wasn't one, but two suns in the sky above him. The larger of the pair was producing a punishing warmth which was beginning to feel uncomfortable, even in the water. Discouragement nearly wrecked him in that moment. Of course we didn't crash on Earth. Why would we?
Tired of treading water, the turtle held on to a smaller piece of floating debris to give himself a break. What am I supposed to do? What would any of our dads do? They probably wouldn't wait around for a bad guy to "rescue" them. I have to stop being such a baby. My leg doesn't hurt that bad.
With a flash of inspiration, he realized the flat panel he was clinging to wasn't much of a life preserver, but it could still come in handy. Or it would, if I knew where land was. Allowing the ocean to control his direction was a dangerous gamble. Who knows if the currents are traveling opposite from dry ground? But floating in the remnants of the space ship wasn't doing him any favors either. If anyone else survived, they're probably searching for land too.
It took several minutes to navigate through the wreckage, and it left the turtle tireder, and nervous. Hunger, thirst and weariness wracked his entire frame. Let's not forget my leg, which is on fire. I'm a perfect target for anything in this ocean that wants to eat me. Tim scanned the clear water suspiciously. Do they have anything like sharks, which could be attracted to blood? I have to stop wondering. It's better not to know.
As he used one hand to guide himself around the last obstacle, the turtle saw a dark object in the distance. An unmistakable land formation. His heart sank at the distance which lay between him and the mountain rising out of the ocean. It's so far. Maybe further than it seems.
Tim was too busy yearning for the land to discern the wave building behind him, and was swamped by breaking water before he realized it was coming. He didn't fight with the wave, holding his breath until he had the opportunity to surface a few seconds later.
The teen looked around rapidly for the plank he'd been using, and had to kick rapidly to the right to avoid losing his debris. Once he had a hand on it, Tim turned around to keep better track of the waves behind him. He was at more risk since he was in the open now.
Tim cast a longing glance to the land and shook his head. No telling how long it will take to get there. Why couldn't I be shipwrecked with someone else? Preferably Charlotte. Fear for his cousin made him automatically hesitate to leave the wreckage behind. What if she's trapped somewhere, and can't get out?
Normally he would probably sense something like that, but the dreadful feeling of being "boxed in" persisted, making it impossible to gather information. Tim considered turning back the way he'd come, but the ocean left him no choice in the matter.
When he tried to swim, he found he was caught in a current. Tim was torn between struggling to get out of it, and the idea of abandoning himself to the water entirely. He fought against the natural inclination of the ocean, pounding both arms and legs in the opposite direction it was dragging him without his consent. Despite his struggle, he was forced to gaze upon the retreating images of debris, while the water refused to bow to his wishes.
An excited murmur from the other end of the lab drew Kumne Muhsin to look up. He winced at the figure of the Vaga greeting a couple of Banrs, who were gushing over Arzhan's arrival. The vagari wasn't technically upset to see his superior, but since some of their actions on Earth had gone against established protocol, the Vaga's appearance made Muhsin nervous.
The manner in which the rest of the technicians in the room flocked toward Arzhan was in stark contrast to the way the Kumne desired to suddenly hide. Muhsin glanced at the monitors the blue-masked terrapin was hooked up to, finding it easier to focus on the young one's vitals than the probability of a reprimand.
"Kumne-Muhsin."
At Arzhan's voice, the vagari slowly turned to face him. "Esteemed Vaga."
His leader's gaze was shrewd, though not yet accusing. "I expected you would call upon landing."
"I was going to, Vaga. I merely hoped to gain some certainty first."
"There are reasons I requested such tools not be implemented, Muhsin." Arzhan's tone possessed a scolding quality, but not the wrath the Kumne feared. "How do the terrapins fare? I trust they haven't been asleep this entire time."
"No, Vaga. We only triggered sedation a couple hours ago, in preparation for these tests."
Arzhan looked past him to the screen displaying the oceanic vision in which the terrapin was engaged. "We are seeing exactly what he is currently?"
"The terrapin dreams very deeply in this condition."
"But he was drugged before coming to the planet."
"Yes, Vaga."
"How is it, then, that this visitor dreams of such accurate landscape?"
Muhsin opened and shut his mouth with instant confusion. "I...have no idea, Vaga Arzhan.
His superior stared down at the terrapin. "This one doesn't possess the gene, correct?"
"He doesn't, Vaga. It is the other, the female, who harbors what we need." Muhsin was puzzled by the way Arzhan gazed at the blue-masked captive for a few more seconds.
"There will not be very much time for testing, Kumne. I've decided we need to move from Suilara."
"Move? Why do you want to leave the planet, Vaga?"
"The atmosphere of Zuhur has been weighing on me. It's not how I expected to find things there."
"But Zuhur has nothing to offer us...does it?"
Arzhan chuckled softly. "I choose not to ignore where Nature directs, Muhsin. Strange things have happened on that world, and I mean to see the state of our remaining brothers."
"It doesn't seem worth your time to make the trip to Zuhur. I don't mind returning in your stead."
"Kumne, would you seek to discourage me from performing my rightful function?"
"Not at all, Vaga," he returned meekly. "I'm only confused because you mentioned no desire to go."
"Things changed, Muhsin, and I'm flowing along with it. Preparations are still being made, so we will have a couple days to observe the terrapins before returning to space."
"Don't you want to see the other, Vaga? She's one of the reasons you sent us in the first place."
"I'll be eager to meet her when she isn't sedated, Kumne. For the present, I'm satisfied to wait. It's more vital for Crael-Pachal to spend time with her at this point, so he can begin constructing his genome map."
Muhsin was shocked by Arzhan's indifference, but chose not to address it. "What of the reserves, Vaga?"
"I hardly think we need to overwhelm Zuhur yet. We may require them later, but my goal isn't to present myself as a domineering ruler. I want the Elohim to have the opportunity to see us for who we are; especially since their own history is...lacking."
Muhsin shook his head upon reflection of the ridiculous vacuum of knowledge on the Elohim's part. How that much information could be lost in a span of a few centuries is beyond me. I don't know why the Vaga has any curiosity over those idiots, but my life is to serve him, not to question.
He glanced back at Arzhan to find the Vaga looking over his shoulder at the blue-masked terrapin once more. I also don't understand his apparent fascination with that runt, but I'm certain the novelty will wear off soon.
*First of all, please allow me to apologize for lying to you for 3/4 of this chapter. Story might have been more interesting if I had followed that angle, but it probably would have taken a lot longer too.
Second...this chapter is a perfect example of why I wait to post until I am at least 95% done. My original introduction to the Vaga looked very different. Even as I presented him as an overbearing, frightening, ruthless individual, it felt...off. It was like he was internally telling me...You're wrong. This isn't me. Now get it right. That's not to say he isn't any of those things, however...His character and motivation took me months to nail down. He is unique, I will give him that. And not in a good way.