Our Flower

by S M Matthews

  “Can you turn it on from here?”

  Sensible voice taps at a panel and the shower comes on. In the bathroom she drops the soap and screams. Everyone except for Sensible Voice lifts their hands to their ears. It’s incredibly piercing, and so loud.

  Of course, the sensitivity was turned up because we could only just hear the crying; no one thought to turn it back down again and we receive the noise tenfold. Sensible Voice had thought of that much faster, and slapped at the volume control rather than defend his ears.

  I thank him meaningfully, and we go back to watching. She’s resting one hand on the sink, and has the other pressed against the middle of her chest.

  “Heart rate already returning to normal...it’s pressing roughly where her heart is though.” That’s from a technician to my left.

  “So, would you say she’s been startled, her heart rate’s gone up but she knows that’s what it is. Now she’s waiting for it to normalise?” I ask Sensible Voice. I really should have asked him his name once we started, but I’m far too far into this now. I’ve been hoping Acer knows and will say it, but no luck so far. I’ll have to look it up in the staffing records later.

  “I wouldn’t say it was an unreasonable assumption to make...I’d also say it wouldn’t translate very well as actual evidence. Some prey animals will freeze as best they can as a defence. Although it is difficult, we can’t project onto her. It will cloud interpretation.”

  I have to concede he’s probably right.

  POPPY

  I am really grateful for the bathroom, even if it is haunted.

  I jumped a little when the toilet flushed itself, but I actually screamed when the shower spontaneously came on. I dropped the soap and now I’m propping up the sink, waiting for the mini heart attack to pass.

  Once I’ve got myself together again, I start to investigate. I can’t see any towels, but I do find a shelf with a sort of jump suit on it, I hold it up and it’s...really the wrong shape, but it might fit and it’s a lot better than naked. The shower doesn’t show any signs of stopping so I investigate a little further. There’s a cloth draw string bag next to the jump suit, and inside, clearly recognisable, are two different sorts of oversized hairbrush, an odd, also large toothbrush...and a packet of tablets. Printed on the front of the tablet packet is a toothbrush with the pill balanced on it. Toothpaste? I open the packet and pop one tablet, sniffing it. It doesn’t smell at all minty, but it does smell fresh...I rub it experimentally between my thumb and finger and it almost immediately starts to smear like a paste. I scrape it off against my teeth and shove the toothbrush into my mouth. I retrieve the fallen soap on the way and shove my hand into the water. Not warm enough for me really, but not so cold as to be uncomfortable. I stand under the water to brush my teeth and rinse, launching the toothbrush into the sink when I’m done.

  The soap lathers up exactly as I’d expect, I don’t have any sort of cloth or sponge so I use my hands to wash, and then having nothing else, I lather it into my hair. It actually works really well as a shampoo. Once I’ve done my hair, I give myself another thorough wash and actually take some time to examine myself. I have a few bruises that I can’t exactly explain; they very likely could have occurred during what I remember of being in the cage. With all those other people.

  Oh. Home.

  It’s suddenly crushing me. What if I can’t ever go home again? What about mum and dad? My brother, my friends, my college course...my life?

  They are going to be so worried about me and…I don’t know what to do. I can’t even let them know I’m not dead. I was on my way home; it was evening and...and I can’t remember.

  I can’t remember any of it. Just waking up in the cage.

  I start crying again, I can’t help it.

  I sit on the floor of the shower and curl up under the water.

  They are going to be frantic. I don’t even know how long I was asleep for, how long it’s been. They might have given up.

  I am struck by the crystal-clear image of mum and dad wailing over an empty coffin and the pain this must have caused them.

  It makes me cry harder, my whole chest racked with sobs that I can’t control. I don’t feel like I can breathe properly. This is the second bout of this in a short space of time but...I feel the calm wash over me again.

  I am much more conscious of it this time; I examine the feeling. I’m not just calming; I’m becoming detached from the emotions. Something about it tickles my memory, and I realise I’ve experienced a similar feeling before. A couple of years ago I had anaesthetic to have my wisdom teeth out. This is very similar.

  I wipe the tears and shower water and hair out of my face, and look around for the little slots I’d noticed in the other room. Sure enough, as if I’d caught it doing something wrong, a slim vent near the ceiling snaps shut.

  Huh. I decide not to examine it, I feel better, and I’m not dealing with it now. I’ll take it regardless. For a moment I wonder if not being worried that I’m being drugged has also been caused by being drugged.

  I can’t handle thinking about that.

  I look around and the shower goes off, I notice a light goes off with it. I stand to investigate and as I do a different light comes on, and with it I am battered by warm air. My hair flies up in all directions, but it works really well. I touch the lit tile and the air goes off. I move out of the way of the shower, and press the first tile, the water returns.

  Okay, I can control this for myself. As I touch it again, I notice the colour changes if I drag my finger across. Temperature control! Well I wish I’d figured that out before, and I am half tempted to get back in for a second, hotter wash.

  I decide to switch it off for now, and put the jumpsuit on. The legs go on like trousers and then the top half actually goes together with a zip.

  Not that high tech then, there's a flap that folds over the zip but I don't bother. It’s massive across my shoulders and the ass is hanging between my knees, which I’m sort of glad about considering there's a fair-sized hole there. It’s made even more awkward by the ankles being almost snug, which means all the fabric is bunched up along my leg.

  This is shit. And it makes me waddle to accommodate it.

  I head back towards the first room and the door slides open; my eyes are drawn straight to the window, but the glass is frosted now. The room has undergone a bit of a change and I investigate. There’s a bed with blankets on it; the hospital type bed which I’d woken up on has been removed.

  There’s a chair with another blanket and a table with some bits and bobs on. Really random bits and bobs. Some of it looks like kids’ toys which had been taken apart...so I stack the doughnuts in the right order and put all the shapes in the right place just to tidy them off the table. There are a couple of more complex looking things; they look like things which would be labelled as ‘brain teaser’ or ‘logic puzzle’ and you’d only ever see them in toy shops at Christmas time. Probably on a big display that says ‘stocking fillers’. Those feel a bit too complex for me right now, so I push them to one side.

  There’s a cup, when I tap it, it sounds plastic-y, and a jug of water, so I pour myself a glass. I have a minor moment of mistrust but then think, I’ve just used the water, I had a shower and brushed my teeth. I more than likely swallowed at least a little then, so I dismiss it really quickly. There’s not a lot else in the room so...I sit on the bed for a bit.

  Then I sit on the chair for a change of pace. It doesn’t feel very long has gone by and I’m already bored enough to have unfolded and folded the blankets several times each.

  I drink the water. I use the haunted toilet.

  I wait, I revel in the safety of the boredom. I try not to think of anything much.

  The monotony is finally broken by a slot opening in the wall, a box sliding out with the shelf that’s supporting it, and then the slot closing again.

  I am, needless to say, pretty intrigued, and head over without a second thought.

  I take the tr
ay over to the table, set it down and remove the cover, there’s a plate and a bowl, two cups and something that looks like a large spork. It’s a bit rubbery too; and I bend the short tines against the surface of the table.

  ‘Super Safe’, I think.

  I pull the chair across and sit; I hadn’t really thought about how hungry I was getting. I try a bit of everything, most of it tastes sort of like something...but not right. Like a savoury strawberry, or salty crisps with a jelly like texture. Most of it is easily edible, some of it is really good. I try both the drinks. One is warm and savoury, the other is thick and creamy sweet; I decide to save that one for dessert.

  Once I’m done; part of me regrets just eating it. I should have savoured it for the odd experience it was.

  No. I dismiss that, either this all just happened to be food I’ve never come across or there’s another explanation. Maybe I’ve touched something I shouldn't have in the garden, or been bitten. Even to me it sounds a bit of a stretch, but fever dream or hallucination is highly preferable to the current alternative theory.

  I re-cover the tray and put it back on the shelf, then bend a little so I can watch what happens. The slot behind the tray opens, and the whole thing, shelf and all, retracts through the slot into a compartment before it slides shut again. I hear the hiss of it sealing, and then there are other noises just audible. After a minute all goes quiet.

  The hissing sealing noise tickles my memory a little, like I should be able to figure it out.

  I stand thinking, frowning at the slot...but the lights get dimmer. I am startled for a moment, bot nothing else happens. With little else to do I go to bed. First just lying down in the uniform and then deciding it’s too uncomfortable. I get under a blanket before wriggling out of the jump suit and pushing it out onto the floor.

  I lie there for a little while, and finally it comes to me, the hissing noise sounded sort of like an airlock in a movie.

  It’s a little while later, just as I’m nodding off that it finally occurs to me; someone turned the shower on for me. Someone had been watching me.

  That doesn’t bother me as much as it feels like it should. Maybe I’m still a little affected by whatever the gas was.

  Or maybe it seems trivial in the face of...well; everything.

  TITUS

  I missed it all apparently, so I volunteer to go and visit the contraband for an update since I haven't seen it yet.

  Medical is pretty quiet; I seek out whichever male from the Core Medical Team is here.

  My brothers had briefly filled me in on which brother pack seemed to have taken on ‘Project: Contraband’.

  It only takes me a moment to spot the uniform; I approach him. He drops his pad a moment for a clipped introduction “Medical Officer Galen, Commander Titus.” I think for a split second he knows me well enough to identify me on sight; but then I remember. I’m in medical. The traitorous computer is probably whispering to him.

  He takes me over to quarantine and hands me a data pad to read. “She doesn’t carry anything contagious, I’m almost certain now; however, I won’t authorise release until I am certain.”

  “Thank you, Galen; I shall familiarise myself with your findings.”

  I wander over to look through the window of quarantine; there's a small figure curled up in a chair; it’s watching the window through a fall of very long, very dark fur. She doesn’t react much at my appearance; and honestly, if anything, she looks bored.

  I’m guessing that there has been a lot of faces peering through this window.

  I give the report a read through; it’s filled with scans and interspaced with the occasional highlighted note. I mostly read those, if that’s what’s standing out to the medical team, then they are probably the most interesting bits. The basic make up is pretty similar, brain function isn’t that far away. Their night vision and sense of smell is nowhere near as good as ours. Pupils are an odd shape, just round, although they can still contract and expand to a degree. So, not as sensitive as us. She broke a bone in her arm at some point, but it’s long healed. It looks like she’s had some teeth removed too. Teeth deliberately removed; and they were from the back, so it wasn’t a safety issue. Strange. They only have a single spinal column; no secondary. And it’s not armoured like ours is; should they sustain an injury there it would be potentially catastrophic for the individual. One heart too. They have tiny fixed claws, but very small and stunted compared to ours. Probably not used for hunting. No tail, but there's speculation about the shape of the bottom of the spine that they might have had one at some point. If they evolved to not need it then...their balance got worse? That makes no sense at all. Their evolution was obviously in a much more forgiving environment than ours. Even their ears are strangely fixed, no good for pinpointing prey or danger. A single womb with...300,000 eggs? That has got to be a typo. And only one set of sexual organs? How does that work? I shake my ears and mane out. Someone's been taking a suspiciously large number of notes just on this one subject, so I skip forward a little.

  The general consensus seems to be that it is intelligent. Probably. Notes on behavioural observations: she tidies, she doesn’t like to be naked, she washes regularly – if two showers in a day is anything to go by – and knows what a toothbrush is. I note to myself that she has become ‘she’ rather than ‘it’.

  They are pretty simple things, but they all point to her being sold as a pet being a crime. Well, it would be a crime once they are recognised.

  You can’t press charges for offences which might have happened prior to it actually becoming a crime, so I dismiss that train of thought. At least if we get them legally recognised it can’t happen again.

  I look up again, she hasn’t moved. Then she yawns; putting her dainty paw up in front of her mouth to hide it. How strange. She rubs at her eyes and settles again.

  Is she tired or just bored?

  One of the medical staff appears from somewhere with a tray topped with a sealed cover. There’s a decontamination compartment to actually pass the tray through but I wave him down and call Galen over.

  “Can I go in?”

  He thinks about it; apparently weighing something up. He comes to a decision; “Yes, but suit up.”

  I agree; it seems a fair compromise.

  It doesn’t take long to be zipped into a quarantine suit; the small internal scrubber should give me a more than sufficient amount of breathing time for a short visit.

  I take the tray and stand in the decontamination airlock. The computer warning me to close my eyes for the light treatment even though the visor automatically darkens.

  Safety first.

  I walk in, not really knowing to expect; surely expecting more than nothing at all though, and yet that’s what I get.

  She blinks at me, slowly and almost myopically.

  “Is she still sedated?”

  Galen assures me that she is not. I walk the tray to the table; putting it down and unclipping the lid. “Let’s see what they are feeding you….Oh. That’s not very exciting. You poor thing I’d be biting my fur out after one day of this.” I step away from it and perch on the bed. She pulls her chair over as if I’m not there; eats mechanically, finishes and then returns her chair and herself to the position she was in when I first arrived. I desperately want to take the mask off and smell the room, but I am fully aware of the fuss it’ll cause.

  I can see Galen monitoring me.

  I briefly entertain trying to touch her; that won’t work as any scent I manage to get out of the room will be destroyed during decontamination.

  I resolve to come back during my mid meal break and bring her something nicer to eat, at least.

  POPPY

  One of them came into the room, wearing some sort of thin space suit. It was very white except for the face mask. Which gave me a good look at the speckles on his face. They really do just look like upright tigers. He carried my meal over, making a growling commentary the whole time. Although it just sounds like one growling,
rolling noise, I’m pretty sure that they are words. This is probably the most interesting thing that will happen to me today, so I try and pay as much attention as I can without appearing too at all.

  He lifts the lid off of the tray and the disgust in his voice is clear. I’m glad he has his back to me; I smile before I can help myself. Hospital food might be a universal constant. Who knew?

  TITUS

  I do remember to go back, but it’s much later than I initially intended. One of the Med Techs suggest I leave the supplies and they will include them with her next meal. I don’t want to do that; I want her to know where they have come from. I say I’ll be back. The Med Tech’s face is carefully schooled, but the ears are saying ‘Uh-huh. Right’. I leave as rapidly as my dignity will allow, hugging the treats to me.

  ACER

  I’ve spent most of the morning catching up on Audits which for some reason never, ever, seem to fall on either of my brothers shift patterns. I head out to medical to see the Little One; I’m not sure when I started to mentally call her that, but it’s sort of stuck. Titus has of course been going down the food bribery route, every time he sees her he takes food. She’s been in quarantine for...maybe six or seven turns now? Although the doctor is confident that she’s ‘clean’, and we can come and go freely, he’s not quite so confident that he will just let her roam about. Also, we are now facing another practical problem. Where will she go? She can’t stay in medical. We can’t return her home as we have no idea where that is. It doesn’t seem right to just give her quarters and then leave her to it...I don’t see how that would work at all.

  I mull it over again on the way to the tailors.

  All she’s had to wear are medic uniforms, and watching her waddle around with all the extra leg material is almost painful. The arms are too long, the top half is sack-like and hangs over the waist of the suit.