Downstream

I turned the way I thought the water was going and set off. What started as a frenzied rush quickly slowed to almost a normal walking pace. There was plenty of room on the gallery now, but no guarantee that it wouldn't have caved in somewhere ahead, and more even than getting left alone forever I wanted not to suffer yet another tumble into some unknowable abyss. As more common sense returned, it occurred to me what I could do that might get better results than blindly hurtling forwards: call out, and announce my presence as a lost soul. As far as I could tell, people were batshit crazy now, but had not also transformed into callous bastards as well.

Then again, the voices might be those of more policemen. It would explain why the other two had walked away from me. Perhaps I was walking straight into the welcoming arms of another curfew patrol. If they were newly stationed in the canals, it only made sense that they should be speaking to each other: they must be horribly bored and not expecting much action in these cold, wet and usually empty dungeons. It would also account for the lack of torches. All policemen train with the Solaric Patrol, and that work comes with all sorts of "enhancements", especially after a few years of active duty.

"Fuck it," I muttered, and stopped dead in my tracks. Kicking aside my reticence I breathed in and released all my frustrations into one long, **** cry of the common greeting, slowly rotating on the spot so it would travel in all possible directions.

There was no answer, so I did it again, a little louder this time, and only facing downstream: still nothing. On the third attempt, my voice cracked from the strain. And in the last cry forlorn I didn'tg bother with words, just made the loudest sound I was able to **** from my larynx. It was when all I could manage was a hoarse whisper, that someone did call back to me.

"I heard you the first time, calm down," the stranger spoke, approaching from somewhere dead ahead. I heard their footseps now, and started as a hand settled firm on my shoulder. What should have been a surprised yelp caused me to break into a painful coughing fit.

"Hello," I wheezed at last.

"All good," she said, and squeezed with a gentle downward push so that I was hunched over a little. "We've got you now. I'm Odyssa. What's your name?"

"Frank."

"Pleased to meet you, Frank. How do you feel?"

“Um, a little bent and bruised,” I said, and tried to straighten up. But Odyssa held me in place with ease. It wasn’t much pressure, but the threat was clear. One clean shove, a roll down the slope and I would drown in the canal. "Mainly I'm lost."

“Are you badly hurt?” she insisted, “Any significant injuries as of late?”

“I fell down some stairs,” I said slowly, “But it wasn’t very high...”

“All right. One last thing, would you say you’re a particularly durable person?”

“Well I’m no terran that’s for sure...”

“Ok,” Odyssa said, loosening her grip a bit, "I apologize in advance,” and punched me hard in the face. I saw stars and blacked out in the blackness.

There was light when I came to, just barely enough to come through my eyelids. It was pale orange, and very dim, not unlike the illumination under the ramparts near the scrambling machine. Realising this similarity hastened my journey to wakefulness in a small burst of panic. Trying immediately to sit up, I found my arms and legs restrained, each wrist tied by thick ropes to the four posts of a bed. To my unadventurous, urban set of skills, escape was utterly impossible from this position.

After getting used to the dim light I looked around. Here was a small stuffy room, just a cube three or four metres across. Opposite was a big watertight door with a wheel locking mechanism, currently hanging open by a few inches. Beside it was a radiator, crackling with life for what must be the first time in decades, and clumsily spewing heat at me. Against the adjacent wall was a table with all my belongings neatly laid out upon it. I supposed every item must have been carefully examined, because my portable computer, although quite lifeless, was unfolded in the "on" position. There was little in there worth hiding anymore given how so many taboos were now moot, but I was still glad of my many passwords and other privacy measures.

It was dead silent apart from the central heating's constant nagging, and there was no sign of life but my own breathing. I sucked in some air, and tried to draw attenion to myself: "Hello?"

It was as though I'd recently attended a very loud and shouty musical event, much of my voice gone, leaving a rapidly thinning whine in its place. No one answered, and when I tried again, my larynx gave in. "Odyssa?" I croaked, "Anyone? I'm awake..." before going into a retching and coughing fit.

After this unpleasant exercise, there was just time for me to wrongly deduce that, wherever my hosts where, I was too quiet for them to hear me. Then the big metal door swung wide and she was there. The sight was a blinding flash and a deafening report. I assumed immediately this must be Odyssa, for her assets surely justified the confidence with which she accosted me in the dark. She stood tall, a solid foot above the average man, and equally broad-shouldered in spite of appearing perfectly feminine, of generous bust and curving hips. Her skin was white as chalk, contrasting harshly against her clothes and surroundings. Modesty and even warmth appeared trifling concerns to her style, although all the parts I had grown used to seeing were covered, the chest by a sleeveless, mid-riff baring t-shirt, and her crotch by a very short skirt. Both simple garments were black, a running theme in this person's appearance. Her hair was black, and worn flowing back from her face to hang loose behind her back, emphasizing her most distinctive feature. Two huge (black) discs made the bulk of her face, the irises ringed white around the pupils. Her eyes were so big it was impossible to tell whether she was looking at me or just in my general direction.

"Hello again," she said, and smiled. "We'd better get started."