Mirror Space - Marianne de Pierres [31]
‘Then why have you hidden them from me to suddenly throw them in my face?’
‘Mio came to me unexpectedly. I had thought you would stay sleeping. You always sleep so soundly, Thales. Like a child.’
Like a child. Thales’s throat constricted, and he had a sudden desire to be free of the apartment. He stood abruptly and reached past her for some clothes.
MIRA
‘The B-Bare World?’ stammered Mira. ‘What is that?’
‘Return to the nutrient wall and move forward,’ instructed Wanton-poda. The Extro was at eye level and bobbing in agitation. ‘Mira-fedor will meet resistance. Mira-fedor must overcome that. Wanton-poda will wait for you in the Bare World. Wanton-poda will appear different.’
The cephalopod floated quickly across the chamber and entered the wall with a soft pop.
Mira shook the remains of the Siphonophores from her hands and followed. Adrenalin still coursed through her body. She felt sick at what she’d done. And confused.
Her confusion was overwhelmed by anxiety as the wall subsumed her and she again found herself unable to tell horizontal from vertical or forward from backward.
Then a boost of energy surged through her body, and she felt light and wonderful.
‘Mira-fedor.’ She heard Wanton-poda’s voice, but couldn’t locate the creature. ‘Mira-fedor, hurry.’
Mira forced her arms and legs to go through the motions of walking even though her senses told her she wasn’t moving. She persisted with it until finally she felt the beginnings of some resistance.
As she continued to paddle her limbs, the force working against her grew stronger.
A peculiar contradiction of sensations assaulted her body. She felt energised as the wall continued to feed her, but the force she ran against began to weigh on her, crushing her body.
She became aware of sounds.
Other languages. Stern tones. Warnings. She selected a humanesque voice from the rest and concentrated on it.
‘You are leaving the Protected Environment. Take appropriate precautions.’
And another.
‘Humanesque Host, remain inside.’
Her arms and legs began to tire, despite the nutrient wall’s energy infusion, and the crushing sensation turned to suffocation.
Her involuntary functions would not do their work. Her lungs would not. ..
‘Mira-fedor. Follow.’ Wanton-poda’s voice.
She heard a loud noise, like tearing fabric.
But her legs had stopped moving and her hands only paddled weakly, as if she was waving. If she could just breathe, if. . .
And then she felt the movement again. Deep inside her belly, an agitated violent turning as though the baby would take control of her.
Volition returned. She was able to breathe and lift her knees. Her walking strides became running strides, her arms pumping in a rigid, disciplined way. A way she had never used them before. Never known she could.
And suddenly she was inside the tearing noise, and the wall peeled away from around her and she felt the wet, hot brush of wind. Something solid and real smacked against the soles of her feet and she fell forward to her knees gasping in dry air and crying and coughing.
Dashing the tears from her eyes, she gulped in some steadying breaths and looked for Wanton-poda.
But the place she had come to - the Bare World - was in darkness.
She sat on her heels and took stock.
Then cautiously, she began to feel out the area around her. Sand and rock, she thought. Little rocks, like the edge of a desert. She breathed more deeply, taking time to assess the air. It tasted and smelt dry but clear and palatable. The heat would be worse in the daylight. If the daylight comes.
The child within her still moved frantically. She soothed