Reaping What Grows

Vivi focuses on memorizing the halls as well as she can, and manages not to look too excited. Scissors, scissors... She'll get to stab the doctor that poisoned her, and anyone who keeps her from the sun - but not if they know. She bites her lip to keep from smiling.

 

The halls are unfamiliar, even as the guard leads the girl past glass walls and the prisoners behind them. The cells are bigger than the girl’s was, and many of them are decorated in small ways.
The cell they stop at has harsh lighting that hurts one’s eyes until they adjust — just a hair too white, and too bright. There’s a small garden against the back wall, growing out of a trough sunk into the ground. Some of the soil has escaped, scattered over the linoleum floor.
Things are otherwise laid out similarly to the girl’s previous cell. There’s a bed in one corner, and a toilet and showerhead behind a privacy curtain in another.
The room smells of the soil — damp and earthy — and of growing things.

 

Vivi stops short.

No.

She should have escaped when she had the chance. She should have fucking run the scissors right through the doctor, and run, and run, and killed anyone in her path. She should have found a way out and never stopped running.

No. No no no no no...

She forces herself to crack a nervous smile, and steps into the soil. It feels good, it feels right, and the smile almost becomes real. She concentrates on the dirt between her toes, the light above her, and she doesn't cry.

No, no, no.

 

As the girl stands in the soil, the watering system turns on, misting her ankles and turning the ground muddy. She’s surrounded by an assortment of odd-looking plants — waxy stalks topped with clusters of black and white spotted tubes; small shrubs with pointed, furred leaves hiding bright orange fruits in natural, lace-like cages; drooping flowers whose petals hold the sunset; flowers whose thin petals burst wide in a lion’s mane; flowers with petals like dancing insects; and, scattered everywhere, groups of red-brown, tongue-like flowers with petals wrapped around a black spear.

The guard leaves, locking the girl inside.

 

Katters comes to work with a plan. It’s a good plan — much better than the previous plans, which almost got her fired several times. This plan probably won’t get her fired, and she thinks it’s very likely to bear fruit, and — even if it doesn’t — it’ll be fun. And that’s the most important thing, though don’t tell Katters’ bosses she thought that.

She’s got Baines and Noel working on a formula that has a striking but entirely coincidental resemblance to C-25. She’s been schmoozing with another lab tech who is now all too happy to loan her some samples. She’s been painstakingly tracking her every move in triplicate, and diligently waiting for go-aheads from her higher-ups. All she has to do now is wait for Dr. Park to finalise CH-FP-3059-B’s transfer from emergency care to C-Ward and things will be good to go.

Everything’s going to come up roses.

 

Vivi drops to her knees, close enough to a flower that it might seem like she's trying to get a good look at it, but the tears are blurring her eyes now that there's no one else in the cell.

No, no, no, no...

She digs her fingers into the soil and lets the tears fall. All the effort she put into hiding the scissors, wasted. Now she has nothing to use as a weapon, she's useless, helpless...

If she could get something sharp from a doctor or a guard, she could use it, but that would most likely mean attacking them. And she's small, and she doesn't really know how to fight. But what about -

It's not appealing, but it could buy her enough time to grab whatever they have and start running. Maybe enough time to turn their own tools or weapons on them, and still be able to use them to get out. She runs her tongue over her teeth thoughtfully. They're human enough to cause pain, even if they won't do any lasting damage; they'll have to do.

She stands up, done crying. There's no more time for planning and waiting. If she gets a chance, she's taking it.

 

Guards pass periodically, patrolling in either direction. After a while, two of them stop outside the girl’s cell. One of them stays there, watching the door, while the other goes inside to retrieve her.

 

Vivi doesn't fight; neither of them have anything sharp visible. It's not worth it yet. She waits, and keeps watching for a better opportunity.

 

The guards lead her down the hall and through a door, and this starts to become familiar.

They take her to a room with what might be a chair, though it would be an uncomfortable one.

 

Vivi keeps standing, keeps waiting. She looks around the room as subtly as she can, just in case, but she doesn't expect to find anything.

 

When the girl stops, one of the guards pushes her toward the chair.

There are cabinets and drawers all around the room, but anything dangerous they may contain has been tucked safely away, out of sight. The only things on the counters are a box of tissues and a bottle of hand-soap. A paper towel dispenser is bolted to the wall.

 

She resists for just a moment, instinctively, but makes herself relax. She barely hesitates before sitting down, trying to keep a neutral expression on her face.

 

The chair is almost as uncomfortable as it looks. They strap her in, in a way that forces her to bend forward, leaving her back exposed.

One of the guards leaves. The other stands near the door.

 

A few minutes later, Katters shows up. She comes into the room backwards, pushing the door open with her back, her arms full of what looks like a large ice-chest. She’s grinning.

“Phelan!” she says to the guard as she drops the chest off on one of the counters. “I didn’t know you got transfered to C.”

“I didn’t know you were still working here,” the guard says, with a grin of his own.

“Can’t get rid of me, but they’re trying. We’ve got to catch up sometime, get a drink or something.”

“Sure, sure.”

 

Vivi grits her teeth and watches the doctor as closely as she can. If only -

She cuts the thought off before it can distract her. She will get an opportunity, and the doctor will pay.

 

Katters washes her hands and rips a towel out of the dispenser to dry them. “How’s things with Tess?”

“Great!” the guard says. “We’re engaged!”

“Oh, awesome! Couldn’t have happened to a better pair.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about it over those drinks. In the meantime,” Katters says, trailing off.

“Oh.” The guard stands up straight. “You want me to go get you something from the vending machines?”

“You know me well. Take your time.”

The guard leaves, and Katters stands in front of the girl, bending sideways so she can see her face. “Hey,” she says. “Been a while.”

 

Vivi keeps her breath steady and her eyes locked straight ahead. There's a panic in her trying to make itself heard, a panic that says this is it, this is how you die, you're all alone and no one will save you. She doesn't want to die, not here, not like this - so there's no use being petrified in fear.

She swallows, and meets the doctor's eyes. "Yeah, it has," she says, and her voice doesn't shake at all.

 

Katters’ grin widens. “We’ll have to make the most of things,” she says, standing up. She starts pulling things out of the cupboards and drawers. “We’ve got work to do, but I don’t see any reason why we can’t have a little fun while we’re at it.”

 

"I don't think I like your idea of fun," Vivi objects. "That's a good reason."

 

“Okay. Then I’ll have all the fun, and you won’t have any.” Something clunks against the counter. “How’s that?”