Becca stood in the back of the conference room a bit apprehensively as her mother closed the door.

Her mother was taller than she was by almost a full ten centimeters. She had long wavy light brown hair as opposed to Becca’s short blonde hair and she had a more hardened look, having spent many years working on the rig. They did, however, share a few characteristics including their soft brown eyes, pale skin and light freckles scattered atop a rather pert nose.

“Antarctica?” Lisa asked, giving her a quizzical look.

“There’s a settlement there,” Becca responded stiffly.

Her mother contemplated this. She walked over to the long window extending across the wall of the room and beckoned Becca over. They looked out into the night. The conference room was located near the top of the Ocearana. This room was situated so that from this vantage point they had a clear view of the center courtyard as well as all the rooms around. The dining area was directly across and below them. Becca could see the inhabitants of the rig finishing up their meals and leaving to go back to their living quarters. Across the living complex lights began to blink on as people returned, but not for long.

The recent high from the fight was beginning to wear off and it was beginning to sink in that a lot of the work they had done here was now going to be abandoned. They were sailing off without a clear plan, without a clear future.

They all seemed so weary.

“So you know this from your dreams I’m presuming?”

“Yes… how do you know about that?” Becca asked. She could hardly be surprised; her mother always seemed to have a way of learning things especially when it concerned her daughter.

“James.”

“Oh,” Becca replied, feeling a bit flushed.

“Don’t give him too much trouble, he only means well,” Her mother said, flashing her a sideways look with warm brown eyes identical to her own. “And besides he clearly cares a lot about you, not to mention, he’s kind of adorable.”

“Ok mom, chill please!” Becca said, flushing even more red.

“Alright, alright…” Lisa said, then she grew thoughtful. “So tell me about Antarctica.”

“Well you see…” Becca told her mother about what she saw so far. The settlement was there, but there were clear problems and no guarantee of survival. Did they even have anything that could contribute to the settlement? For what reason would New Anatoli welcome them? Would they just be going there to feed the furnaces?

“Also, the ice. Other than our research vessel, our ships don’t really have any sort of equipment to break the ice there; we could very easily get stuck.” Lisa pondered. “I’ll discuss this with Miguel. Don’t worry he’s fine with the Gifted, he’s not one to fall to superstition.” Lisa added.

Then, she turned toward her daughter and gave her a stern look, “No more weird outbursts like that though, ok?”

Becca looked sheepish, “Yeeahh sorry about that.”

“I’m serious, it could be really dangerous.” her mother said, cocking an eyebrow. “Other than the crew of the Vestuge, you never know who might be anti-Gifted. Just the other day someone was hit in the head with a bottle just because some thought she might’ve been gifted.”

“What’s the deal with that?” Becca frowned. “There’s been no proof the Gifted have anything to do with the Rust!”

“You have to know, sailors are superstitious folk. A lot of people here are crewmen or families of crewmen.” her mother sighed. “There are even those who say the Rust is only here because of the Vestuge. They say the ship brought the Rust with it.”

“Because of the Gifted guy? Eric?” Becca said incredulously. “But the Vestuge is the only reason we are all getting out of here!”

“Some people are saying they don’t want to go at all if it’s with the Vestuge,” her mother sighed. “Look you have to keep yourself safe.”

“Ok… yeah, you’re right.” Becca said. “I’ll try to be even more careful.”

Her mother gave a little satisfied huff, “So, as for our next steps, the plan will be to make our way towards Teklantilu Isle. We’ll reassess when we get there.” She turned toward her daughter and placed her hands on her shoulders. “For now you’ll be staying on the Vestuge, when we set sail.”

“The Vestuge?” Becca said, “I thought I would be riding on the Romierra with most of the others? Or maybe the Whiskernash because of the work we were doing on it?”

“It will be a bit uncomfortable for sure,” her mother said. “You’ll essentially be staying in a remodeled shipping container. But the only ones willing to go on that ship are those who are the least superstitious about the Gifted, so you should be in good hands there.”

Lisa gave her a quick pat on the shoulders, “You’ll be fine. And besides you really don’t want to be staying on the Whiskernash, that thing… isn’t the most stable ship at the moment.”

“I guess not…” Becca said with crinkle of her nose. “Who else is coming along?”

“Well we’re organizing it mostly by units, with opt out preferences. Pretty much everyone on your floor will be going to the Vestuge, so you don’t have to worry too much about not knowing anyone there, Lizzie will most likely still be your roommate…”

Becca breathed a sigh of relief.

“...and don’t worry, James will be right around the corner as well.” her mother finished.

Becca pulled a face, “I really don’t know how I feel about that guy. He gets on my nerves sometimes but then at other times…”

Her mother laughed, a bright warm laugh, “You’ll figure it out. Well then!” She looked at her timepiece. “It’s getting late, you should get some rest.”

They walked out to the metal walkway leading up to the conference room. Lisa pulled Becca in and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Don’t stay up reading too late!”

“Ok, ok.” Becca said, smiling despite herself. “Love you mom.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

After a brief hug under the star swirled night sky, they parted ways.

***

The girl tiptoed around the shattered glass cup. The floor here was marble rather than carpet, so her footsteps made gentle tapping noises alongside the soft crinkle of the garbage bags tied around her ankles.

She wanted to be extra careful. Despite her being able to send out intermittent probes to check her surroundings, she didn’t have quite the same ability as the woman on the oil rig did. While the woman could constantly scan a radius for threats, the girl had to keep sending out “pulses” at intervals, draining her stamina with each use.

At the very least, the visibility wasn’t terrible here in the hallway. The sunlight shone in through the skylight making it rather bright, but at the same time quite warm. She took off her hoodie and tied it around her waist, careful not to spill anything from its pockets. Then, katana at the ready, she approached the first open doorway.

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It was a grand dining area. The floor was a dark granite that twinkled with each pass of her flashlight. The girl surmised that this dining area was most likely dark to begin with, even with power. The candles on each table would’ve really set a cozy atmosphere in the dimly lit room. Looking upward, she saw a chandelier hanging above. As she shined her light on it, it glittered, casting a smattering of light across the ceiling.

The receptionist stand was still upright; the girl saw that it was draped with a deep blue velvet cloth with smooth golden fringes. As she proceeded further inside she noted each table had the same dark cloth with glimmering angular gold designs winding from the center like an elaborate maze. She also noticed that quite a few tables and chairs had been knocked over.

She picked up a few unused pale candles and stuffed them into her backpack, throwing some food packaging on the ground to make space.

“H-Hullo…” A shivering high-tenor male voice spoke up from behind her causing her to jump.

She quickly turned around, shining her light at the entrance.

The light revealed a gaunt looking pale asian man with dark bags under his eyes. The only way to describe him was “stretched thin”. The man was like a skeleton, yet at the same time appeared quite tall – at least 6 ft. He was dressed in a tuxedo, oddly enough, that hung off his frame limply. As she stared at him suspiciously, he gave her a nervous wave.

“Hullo…” He started again. “M-my name is Steve M-masada.” He gave a bit of a short bow, then he asked, “Wh-what are you doing in a place like this little girl?” He eyed the katana nervously.

“What are you doing in this place? How come I didn’t see you before?” the girl responded, pointing the sword at him.

The man yelped at this and began inching toward the exit. “W-well I was looking for another piano... S-since the other one upstairs got d-destroyed.”

“Wait… You were the one playing the piano?!” the girl asked incredulously. “What about the monster?!”

“Monster?” the man gave a little start. He glanced around nervously. “What m-monster?”

“The huge thing with hands all over the place!” the girl said. “How could you even miss it??”

“O-oh!” Mr. Masada perked up, “You mean Sharon and Clark!”

“What,” the girl stated, completely nonplussed. This man was so very strange.

She said carefully, “You’re talking about the two people stuck together with arms growing out of their eyes?”

“Oh yeah, they’re a great audience.” The odd man said, “They even clap sometimes… ha-ha. But it f-feels like today they were angry for some reason… Oh yes, very mad! I barely had time to escape…”

“Uh-huuh…” the girl said. “Do you… often play piano for that thing?”

“Oh yeah, ever since me and my two daughters got here a couple days ago,” Mr. Masada nodded. “”M-my daughters don’t really appreciate the music, they say it's too scary or something a-and they don’t really like Sharon and Clark.”

“Well I can see why…” the girl replied.

“B-But! I say don’t judge a book by its cover! It’s the end of the world anyways, we should g-give everyone a chance!” the man proudly proclaimed, sticking up an index finger which reminded the girl of an orchestra conductor for some reason. “Hehe… it’s not like any of this is going to matter… anyways…” His voice dropped off.

“But such is the beauty of art! Anyone can enjoy it!” the man finished after a moment.

“Hold on one second you have daughters?” the girl asked, a bit hopeful. She hadn’t been around anyone her age for a while.

“Oh yes! They’re up on the 34th floor. Th-they got tired climbing the stairs you see…” Mr. Masada said rapidly. “plus I didn’t want to be too far from the pianos down here s-so…”

“How old are they?”

“Hmm…” the man pondered for a moment. “HMM… I forget, but they should be around your age I suppose. They’re certainly around your size.”

“Riight…” the girl replied. There was definitely something off about this man.

“Alright, well… I’m gonna go dig around the kitchens to see if I can find anything good…” the girl said, “Don’t follow me or I’m probably going to cut you.” She waved her sword at him.

“Eek!” The man let out another yelp, “Uh I-I’m just going to poke around here, I think there’s a piano here somewhere.”

The girl decided to let that go. She didn’t really want him attracting the weird thing, but at the same time she didn’t really want to escalate the confrontation. The Mr. Masada appeared timid, but at the same time he was very… strange.

With a quick glare at the man slowly inching back into the dining hall, the girl turned and made her way to where the kitchens were.

As the girl pushed open the swinging doors leading in, she was met by pitch darkness. She was suddenly brought back to the EasyLarks convenience store. The manager’s door slowly opening to reveal the mangled yet still-living body clawing its way toward her.

Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked.

Just darkness, nothing more.

Pots and pans glinted as she passed her light over them. A rack of dishes… a cutting board… an array of knives…

The girl stepped forth, calling up courage from the newly acquired steel grasped in her right hand. Her crinkling footsteps were interrupted by the soft scuttling of cockroaches. She once again pushed back memories of the narrow hallway with the sliver of light at the end.

The girl took a deep breath, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell of rotting food. A quick peek into the nearest refrigerator dissuaded her from the others. As she turned, skittishly tiptoeing between the prep tables her flashlight flared off the wide metal door of the freezer room.

She stared at it for a moment.

Then she decided to try another psychic ping.

Oh right, I can do that now, she thought.

There was nothing. Just the scattered mind of a tall asian man looking for a piano in the room next door. The girl’s head suddenly felt very heavy.

Crap, she thought.

Tired… the voice spoke to her. No more sense.

It didn’t seem like there was much to be found here. She pointed her flashlight down past a row of fallen metal racks revealing shattered dishes and sacks of rotten vegetables.

She sighed, turning back to the knife stand.

Better than nothing.

She grabbed the largest kitchen knife from the stand. She already had a katana, but who knows. From a drawer nearby she withdrew a handful of lighter wands.

She had candles, so why not.

Then, lining the walls on the counter she saw multiple large paper sacks. A quick inspection revealed these to be full of pasta of varying shapes.

This is when she heard the sounds of piano playing.

She jumped.

Crap, I didn’t think he would actually find one, the girl thought.

She had to get out of here before the thing –Sharon and… Mark? – followed the sound here.

The girl looked back at the sacks. They were too large to carry them all so she snagged the closest one.

It was quite heavy. She made it to the kitchen entrance before she dropped it on the ground, panting with exertion.

As she sat on the ground catching her breath, she listened to the glowing notes of the piano. For a moment, she found herself carried away by the notes. They seemed to speak of sorrow, of lost chances and loved ones. But then a lone high note, and it changed. A new dawn, a new beginning seemed to shine down upon her from above.

Hope.

I guess he’s not so bad after all, the girl surmised as she got up and began making her way back to the entrance, dragging the sack behind her.

The chandelier twinkled above, as did the black marble floors below. The girl couldn’t see the man but upon glancing down to the left, the girl could make out a stage with dark curtains pulled shut. The man must have found a piano there, she guessed.

As the light of her flashlight swept back toward the entrance, she suddenly froze. She slowly shined the light back toward the left, then upward.

There it was. Or rather there they were.

The bundle of limbs was clinging silently to one of the balustrades above. It was so quiet despite its size. It shivered with each note of the piano, limbs vibrating in a wave-like pattern.

It did not react to her.

The girl cautiously crinkled along in her plastic wrapped shoes. Near the entrance she saw some reddish liquid dotting the ground. Using the last of her strength, she lifted the sack up to try to avoid it.

Karen and Mark twitched their eye arms toward her for a second, but otherwise did not move.

The girl finally rounded the doorway, back into the hall, but she did not stop. By this time, the sky was already a dim red-orange, bathing the hallway in a soft glow. With the sack behind her, she hurried back to the stairwell, careful to avoid the reddish brown stains on the ground.

She was on the third floor before her legs gave out from under her.

The girl was exhausted. Her vision was swimming, dark spots flickering along the periphery of her field of view. The voice in her head was silent.

The door leading to the staircase was open. She dragged herself through it, fumbling in the darkness. All was quiet, save for her shuffling. She reached the first room on her left. It was locked. This meant it was hopefully secure enough.

She swiped her way into the room. Bolted it, then engaged the metal lever ensuring it could not be opened from the outside.

The girl tumbled head first onto the pristine bed –pack and all– and within seconds, was away, drifting off to distant lands.