Chapter 9: Horizontal Transfer
He pushed off from the door and ran down a long white hallway.
He heard sobs in the distance, unsure of which direction they came from.
His world was tumbling again. Everything was crashing around him.
I finally found her, the girl from so long ago, the girl from the tree. But she doesn't remember me. And now Ria - she cared about me so much and now I've gone and- How could I do this?
What have I done? Where am I? Why did I run away from her?
He crashed to his knees. He buried his head in his hands, sobbing, rubbing his eyes, scratching his hair, then pounding the floor with his fist.
Why?! Why! What have I done!
His fist remained on the floor for some time. His head bent down. His knees ached. His back ached. His heart ached. He struggled to breathe.
He turned his head to a slightly ajar door on his right where the soft gentle hiss of a ventilator soothed the air. He saw the name tag on the door:
"Victor, Co-pilot, Sunbird 62 – Special Reconnaissance Team"
No.
He placed his hand on the door and pushed it open slowly.
Please no.
A fabric cap rested on his head. A tube was in his mouth. He was asleep.
He touched the man's hand. "This is all my fault- I screwed up the picture. This would never have happened if I didn't screw it up."
He leaned on the railing of Victor's bed and placed his head on it. "Please don't die here. I owe you a feast- at the Lone Pine."
It was night outside when she got home. She got up and touched the yellow feathers of the potted Strelitzia near her window. Outside was a dark motionless city. It was past midnight and she wasn't tired. She was lost in thought. Her past cascaded in endless streams upon her mind as she searched for some explanation of the taste that still lingered on her lips.
He acted so familiar. He has the same name as my Darling. The same taste. Why does he look so different? Could it be him after all?
She paced back and forth in front of the large black window. The red walls and soft red carpet reminded her of the inside of a palace.
She reached over and picked up her new communicator. Her fingernails gleamed a metallic silver in the lights above and she was careful not to scratch the screen.
Oh Kristoff, you wouldn't give me the wrong number, would you?
She tapped the icon with the strange man's face: Darling.
"Hey, you awake?" – appeared on his screen. Number unknown.
His hotel room was dark. The curtains were drawn. He twisted the communicator around so that its dim light cast shadows on the floor and he saw only one suitcase by the foot of the bed.
Ria must have come and picked hers up.
He tapped the keys even though he knew the answer: "who is this?"
"You know who ;)" came the reply, a second later.
Don't do this, Royce. If you do this, there's no going back.
A voice echoed in his mind: "Do you even know what she is? Have they not told you… I can't believe you'd throw yourself away…" he shook his head. But all he could see was Ria with her bright green eyes and midnight hair beaming down at him, hugging him on his hospital bed, playfully taking a bite out of his apple.
He switched to the chat with Ria. He saw the last few messages and a tear started to form in his eye. "heyyyy!" followed by his reply: " :) "
He wiped his eye and messaged, "I miss you."
He waited a minute. Then two. Then five.
No response.
Then he switched back to "You know who ;)" the smell of the girl's pink hair returned to his mind. His heart started to race again just recalling the faintest memories about her.
He typed the words that he knew would end it all – he typed the words that he knew would finally end the pain and longing.
He checked his messages from Ria. No response. Nothing.
He got out of bed and closed the zipper of his suitcase.
…
At the end of a long beige hallway with white doors was a single red door - like a monolith before the prehistoric ape. The color of the apple, the source of all forbidden knowledge. Red. The color of blood, of demons, of the girl's scarf- sex, love, fresh meat, fodder, and sacrifice.
Unsurpsingly, the apartment number was the same as her plane - written in root-white numerals: 002. Or at least, what used to be her plane. The pieces of which were now strewn across the Khanian desert.
The white numbers stared back at him, holding back some distant gargantuan significance that he could not decipher.
He knocked once. Then again. The door opened. He almost fainted at the sight.
She wore a long pink camisole. His eyes drifted from the white headband on her head with its tiny crimson horns- to her deep green eyes - to her thin lips with her mouth wide open in surprise and glee. He stared at her voluptuous chest, then her arms cloaked in long silky sleeves and her unusually long fingers with unusually reflective fingernails. Words escaped his mouth. "Diana?" he asked.
"Oh, Darling. Have you come to tease me again?"
He lay on the soft carpet for some time. A thin stalk of Chlorophytum tangled with his foot. After some time, thoughts and decisions formed in his addled mind. He was still shaking. He retrieved his black shirt, slipped it back over his chest, then labored to reassemble the pieces of what he intended to do that night.
He found and retrieved the suitcase he brought with him. Then he dragged it to the bedroom where he found her laying with one leg bent and the other outstretched on top of the covers. He pulled the thin black book out of his suitcase and sat on the bed with her.
She yawned reflexively and pushed the book away, then climbed under the covers without him. She looked so comfortable there. So content. The little red-horned headband lay on her bedside table on top of a lavender book: "Royce and Abigail".
Beside the table, a bird of paradise stared out her window into the night sky.
"What did you want to ask me, Darling?"
"Please, will you help me translate it? I've wondered about this book for fifteen years. I'll do anything-"
She giggled, "I'm sure you'd do anything for me regardless." She reached out a hand and gently ran her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, then pulled him in to a kiss.
There was nothing he could do. He sealed his lips around hers and closed his eyes. He was falling down an endless well of happiness. The girl he dreamed of was finally real. Finally. Time was irrelevant. The moment stretched for minutes. Falling. His body relaxed and the book tumbled out of his hand. She released him and giggled, "you're easily distracted." Then she clasped her other hand around the back of his neck and stared into his eyes. "What did you want to ask me again?"
He didn't know anymore. It was all gone. She was so warm. He grasped her head in his hands, running his own fingers through her long pink hair. "I don't even remember. Why can't I remember?"
She continued to giggle. "Oh Darling, you're so funny. I hope you'll last longer than the others."
Her hands were still caressing his head, her long fingers tangling with his coarse hair. Her nails gently tracing his scalp. He climbed under the covers and she looked up at him with a face that melted whatever was left of his heart.
"Good night, Darling~"
She was pressed up against him now, just like in the plane. He remembered the characters etched on the dead plane's seat, and he said the words that seemed out of place but he knew them to be right, there in her arms, at that moment "Good night, Zero Two."
…
Ria glared at him from across a large blue holographic projection.
"Idiot, are you listening?" she pointed right at him.
Where am I? How did I get here?
He felt soft warmth on his arm. He turned his head. Exotic green eyes beamed at him. She was clutching his arm to her chest.
Oh no- how did I get here? I don't even remember getting dressed.
Ishigami cleared his throat and announced, "Captain Sylvan and Lieutenant Verbius will pilot the Valor Crane today for our second attempt at rendezvous with Ash Cloud."
The old man glanced around and shook his head. "Diana, you do know he can't actually fly the plane like that, right?" he pointed at her.
"You're all so boring." Diana pouted and released his arm. "Don't forget about me, Darling." She said as she winked at him and twirled around then dashed out the door.
Slowly, thoughts began to form in his mind. Horrible, unthinkable thoughts.
Oh God what have I done? What's happened to everyone else? Are they still in the hospital? Did he just say I'm going to fly- with Ria? No- this can't be happening.
"I hope this arrangement doesn't evoke any- interpersonal issues," Ishigami coughed.
Ria make no noise. She continued to glare right through him. Her once caring eyes now burned with jealousy.
The commander continued. "As you both know, Toji and Orito were rescued by U.N.F. forces yesterday but they're still awaiting exfiltration. Victor, Cho and Kristoff are still in no condition to fly. Morisato is on standby but he's not in great shape either. You two are in the best mental and physical-" Royce still wore a bewildered expression and Ria looked downright homicidal. "…well, at least the best physical condition to fly," then he laughed uneasily. "You're a lucky man, Royce. It seems like you've eluded death twice in the course of one week."
He looked at Ria and whispered, "Can you explain what's going on here?"
She crossed her arms, "I tried to warn you, idiot."