Thanks for all the favs and reviews. Please tell me, if you find anything inconsistent with the characters. I'm always happy to receive some criticism. Sorry that it took me so long this time. I had actually planned to make this chapter even longer, but then I decided to split it. Be prepared for some evil things in the next one. Otherwise: Enjoy - ;)
Sorry... I inadvertedly confused the documents. This is the real chapter three!
Chapter 3 - Preparations
Data streams were running down on the computer screen. They came so fast that most people had trouble following them, but Grace was not one of them. She found comfort in the letters and numbers. They were real, they meant something and they distracted her from a different matter. Her time was almost up.
This evening she had to go to Quaritch and inform him of her decision.
Decision!
In truth there never had been a decision at all, because the alternative couldn't have been an option for her. She didn't doubt that the colonel would have made his threats come true if she dared to refuse. He never said anything he didn't mean and by now she now of what he was capable of.
Of course there was no guarantee that he wouldn't attack the Na'Vi somewhere in the future anyway like he did in the past, she had no illusions about that, but maybe then there was more she could do to prevent it.
She was actually quite surprised that he had made no effort to see her in these three days, but then again she had nowhere to go. He sat like a spider in his web waiting for her to come to him.
Stupid metaphors! Her biological education sometimes got the better of her!
She on her part had immersed herself in work. Unfortunately there hadn't been an opportunity to use her Avatar body, but it was enough to put some effort in the research of already collected specimen. At least it gave her a distraction, but no real escape. Escape she had found in another thing.
Her beloved Vodka.
She was very careful not to let herself completely go, especially in front of her colleagues, but when she was alone she found some comfort in drinking. It helped her feel better and gave her a chance to relax at least for a night. She had been a moderate drinker before, but the events of the last days made the bottle even more compelling. Still she was too sensible not to get too obviously drunk, because she still cared for her work and wanted to be sober enough to continue. She also didn't want to completely lose control over herself and do things she regretted later. What she needed was courage. A lot of courage.
She glanced at the clock at the computer screen and sighed.
Slowly she lifted her hand and stopped the data stream with one swift movement. Then she switched the screen off and arose slowly.
Some of her co-workers shot a quick glance at her, but once their curiosity was satisfied they carried on with their work.
She was the boss – she could arrive and leave when she wished. They knew that she took the research serious enough not to back off and let them do all the work.
Grace sighed again.
If they only knew…
The moment she left the laboratory a feeling of loneliness overcame her. It was not that she regretted anything; she assumed full responsibility for the situation she was in now. But it still hurt that there was nobody she could talk to. Even if it was self-imposed. She quickly reminded herself what her reasons had been. It was only for the best…
Without hurry she wandered through the corridors.
Her first destination was her quarters. Before her final confrontation with Quaritch she felt she needed to prepare herself.
She had no illusions about the whole situation: No matter what she did, it would never be enough to successfully tell him to go to hell. But her pride urged her not to give up so easily. She owed herself that one.
When the doors of her quarters finally came into view she slowed down her pace. She stopped before the electronic locking system and entered her personal code. With a hissing sound the doors moved aside and let her in.
The room was a mess.
A perfect mirror of how I feel…
Although Grace was not the tidiest person, she normally managed to keep her quarters in the same intricate order as her desk. But this mess was unusual even for her. Clothes lay around; portable datapads containing various research projects were spread on her table in the middle of the room and the floor. A half-empty Vodka bottle and a used glass stood on the table. The ashtray was full; the pack of cigarettes next to it was nearly used up.
The reason for the current state of this room was that she had avoided spending too much time in it. She had slept there and used the bottle, when she felt she needed it. Otherwise she had tried not to be alone. Thus she had postponed any cleaning measures to an uncertain future.
She let herself fall into one of the chairs and closed her eyes for a few seconds.
Calm down!
Without really noticing it she grabbed the bottle and poured some of its contents into the glass next to it. She downed it and grimaced shortly after. It burned and it didn't taste particularly well. To hell with it!
She poured another one, yet didn't touch it immediately. She would drink it when she left. Maybe it gave the last bit of courage she still lacked.
Finally she stood up and began collecting the clothes on the floor. She was looking for something she could wear at her encounter with the colonel. For a short moment she thought about putting on the ugliest clothes available, thus making her as unattractive as possible, but she discarded the notion quickly. This time she had something to lose and if she played her cards correctly, there was a slight chance that she maybe could influence the situation in her favor. Maybe.
She was still unsure whether she could dare to defy him in one way or another, but she definitely knew that she shouldn't overdo it. She couldn't afford to antagonize Quaritch at the moment.
Evidently she didn't have any evening dresses at her disposal. There was no need for them on Pandora, where her whole life was situated in an artificial environment that required her to work, eat and sleep. Her entire wardrobe consisted of something practical. She didn't have one single skirt with her, but a wide assortment of trousers and blouses, all having in common that they were robust and comfortable. They were not ugly, but they also were definitely not chic!
One of them had to do either way.
Quaritch certainly wouldn't pay attention to her clothes…
In the end she decided for a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse. This was something she sometimes wore as a casual dress in her spare time. It was not designed to make her look good, but it also didn't worsen her looks.
When she was finished changing she shot a quick glance in the mirror.
I am still somebody. I might lose my dignity, but I can never lose who I am.
She shook her head.
When she had signed on for the stay on Pandora she had done so in order to leave human affairs behind. She had suffered enough, she needed the distance. Some of her colleagues even joked that she preferred plants over humans.
That was not true – she simply wanted to be left alone. After what had happened she had no interests in dates and too much fraternization.
And here she was on the verge of the weirdest, sickest date in her life.
She looked at the glass on the table. The alcohol in her bloodstream had already made some impact. She felt bolder.
Maybe it was unwise to take another glass. She didn't want to smell too much of this stuff, it only made her appear weak.
Instead she grabbed a last cigarette before she left…