I spent the next morning doing everything I could to keep myself from falling apart right in front of all my coworkers. I had gotten maybe 4 hours of sleep the night before, and when I woke up that morning I had a void in my stomach and a pounding in my head that carried through the majority of the day.

I got ready for work at a crawling pace, cursing under my breath every time my headache decided to grow more intense, working to shake away the dizziness that swirled around my head in a way that reminded me again of the crowds now a hundred levels down.

When I was done, I turned to face the door of my room and had to lean my head against it for a second to catch my breath. The day before me seemed so long, so unbearably difficult, that all I could do for a few moments was stand there debating just going back to my bed and sleeping the whole day through.

What was the point of this? I remember thinking. Why did I even have to be here?

I remember hearing voices coming from outside my room, people were in the kitchen, eating, talking.

It reminded me of hearing my family outside my door at home, talking to each other over breakfast, finding their keys and putting on their shoes. They always were morning people, I could never relate. Whenever I finally got up to join them, I was always rushed, and my brother would tell me about whatever game he was playing while I scrambled about looking for a book or a pencil. I used to think mornings were stressful back then, but looking back, they really weren't that bad.

That pang of homesickness hit me harder than my headaches and exhaustion combined, and it pushed me to stand myself up straighter and brace myself for the day. Forcing away my hesitation, I opened the door, and as I walked out towards the kitchen, I told myself with every step, "You have to do this. Just do this. This is one step closer to home. I promise. I promise."

In the 5 or so steps it took me to go from my bedroom to the kitchen, I mentally prepared myself to take on the appearance of Io once again.

Don't talk much, but don't be shy.

Hold your head up high, but don't look down on people.

You were up late last night reading, maybe that could excuse any accidental slip ups I make out of tiredness.

You're not nearly as starving as you are, you had a good meal last night, so eat slowly.

If you have to talk, don't hesitate. Don't stutter, don't say "um", and avoid phrases you suspect died out a thousand years ago.

And please, you idiot. Just don't be stupid.

Finally, I reached the kitchen, and the day began.

I avoided looking at my coworkers, and focused on getting my breakfast instead. I nodded in greeting when people said their good mornings, and tried not to hesitate too long when choosing my breakfast.

I had, and still have, very little idea what any of the food in the kitchen was, I'd mostly just been eating at what I'd assumed were fast food places the whole time, and everything in the fridge was different from what I'd eaten before. I avoided the soup entirely, for I'd figured it was what had made me so ill, and instead grabbed something I'd seen a few of the others eating, and sat down.

I know people were talking and laughing all around me, but I don't remember hearing anything more than the pounding in my ears. Even more so than the day before, I held every slight action of mine under intense scrutiny, doing everything I could think of to hide my weariness and my fear, from the way I held my spoon, to the accent my voice may have had, to even the way I walked. What would give away that I wasn't from around here? I would think. In what way would I slip up? I'm not perfect. Not even Io is. If I messed up, what would I do then? Would I have to leave? Would they search for me?

A feeling of ice flashed through me at the thought. I'd been raised with stories in books and films of scientists hunting down magical people to study their powers, using inhumane experiments to unlock the secrets of their abilities. As far as I know I don't have any sort of "Magic" in me, but I skipped time by a thousand years, and that seemed to me like the kind of thing a scientist would be interested in. An advanced world like this must have methods of experimentation worse than I could ever imagine. No one could know I was from the past. I couldn't let that happen.

Fortunately, work turned out to be the same as the day before. Despite the heights, I managed to control my shaking and hide under the guise of Io, and didn't let the sickness in my stomach bubble to the surface.

It was easier for me to focus when I had a specific task at hand. At work I knew what I was supposed to be doing, and if I could stay focused enough on it I could trick myself into thinking that the work was all the world was.

I've always found it far easier to keep myself functioning during work, now and then. It was manual labor, which I'd never really done in my life, and every ounce of my mental energy went towards whatever I was supposed to be doing. I didn't have the time, or energy, to be fearful.

I didn't have time to think about my home either. My family. My friends. And most of all, I didn't have time to think of the distance between me and those things.

I was also able to avoid thinking about them after work too. When work ended for the day, I went straight to my room, and quickly fell asleep due to how exhausted I was at the end of the day. There was no thinking back then. Only work. Just get through the days, just stay alive, just learn little things day by day until you understand enough to know what you need to look for.

Just keep going. Keep taking those steps. Keep breathing, but don't think. Just keep being Io.

Days would pass like this. They were busy, for I spent every waking moment both avoiding and running towards the source of my grief. As much as I hated it, I knew, without a doubt, that I couldn't spend my time mourning my past. I had to face this world head on, without hesitation, if I wanted to find a way back.

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Being afraid wouldn't help me. It would only make things worse, it always has. I have to be stronger than it, just this once, just for now, because I have to.

I also found myself feeling hungry for most of the time I was awake. I would eat different things, some weird cereal-soup-but-not-that-one-soup, those multi-colored fruit-like things, even little candies they sell at side-shops. It was always a toss-up for whether or not they make me sick. Always a gamble. I could eat soup one day and be perfectly fine, but when I eat it again 3 days later I get sick. It was the same for every other meal. Eating had become a heightened source of nerves for me. Every meal I couldn't help but think, I don't want to be sick tonight, I just want to sleep, I'm so tired, please don't make me sick, please.

Only stuff from fast-food places really seemed to stay down. It can't have been healthy though. It was cheap, and tasted odd compared to the rest of the food. I would eat it every chance I got though, every time I wasn't in the air. Anything for a night of sleep.

I don't know why I only got sick at night back then. Never during the day. I guess I'm thankful though, I'm glad I didn't have myself getting sick in front of my coworkers.

I found myself listening to their conversations a lot. I tried to pick up how they spoke, from the small accents they don't know they have to the phrases they use and what they mean.

I didn't talk to anyone, at least not for the first few days. When I did, it was in short sentences with a tone that hopefully lacked any interest in the conversation, and nothing of much substance was said, at least on my part.

Those were the simpler days. Empty, soulless, and exhausting, but in a different way. I wasn't lonely yet. I hadn't been here for very long at that point.

It was just a cycle. A tiring, monotonous cycle, but a cycle nonetheless.

But of course, not long at all into my new job, a new challenge was thrown my way. I remember how empty it was before that day. I was just getting by, just surviving. It changed after that. And not really for the better, looking back. Though really, even if I had been able to dodge them then, is it really like I would have ended up anywhere else?

Work had just ended, and I had plans to go to my room and research a new phrase I'd heard before I went to bed, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

I turned around, and found Ayer, though I hadn't known them yet, standing behind me, holding an official looking piece of paper.

Instantly my nerves began to jump. I didn't hear them come up to me, and I was completely unprepared for any conversation. And the paper made it worse, only adding more questions. Was I being fired? Thrown in jail? Fined? How much would I be fined for? How would I even pay it off? Would I have enough to pay for it? I don't get paid until we hit ground again, how long did I have? What would happen if I didn't pay it? Couldn't pay it? They'd throw me in jail, and the scientists would come get me, and they'd find out I was from the past, and they'd tear me to pieces trying to find out why, and I'd die here and never get home and never see my mom again and I, dangit, dangit, they said something, what do I do, I missed it, what do I say?

My mind was running rampant with questions, but I forced myself to remain calm, or at least act like I was.

"What do you need?" I asked, careful to keep my voice low to avoid the rise in pitch from panic, sounding almost angry in my attempt to not sound afraid. I'd never really talked to Ayer before at that point, but I'd worked with them often enough. My earliest impressions of them were that they were talkative, they knew just about everyone, and were just as careless as everyone else, as if nothing in the world could hurt them. They seemed to fear nothing, and from early on that was something I admired about them. It was a stark contrast from me, who couldn't help but see everything as a threat, but a remarkable similarity to Io, if only in that way.

"Hello, I'm Ayer, we haven't really talked before but we've worked on the same bridge section a couple times, and I need a quarantine partner. You seem new to the area, so you shouldn't have one yet, right?" They said as they held out their piece of paper. "I don't, and I'm not interested in risking time with a transfer, so I'd rather go with a coworker. You're Io, right?"

"A what?" I asked, confused, fumbling with their sudden presence and the speed of their words.

"A... quarantine partner?" They said, and they gave me the look I'd been dreading since I got here. A kind of, "you don't know this?" look. Like I was missing something obvious. The kind of look you'd give to someone who asked what a door was.

I had no idea what they're talking about, but I did know I couldn't hesitate for too long, so I answered only after a slight pause, guessing at straws as to what I should be saying.

"No. I don't have a quarantine partner. Yes, my name is Io."

"Great, you can be mine. I promise I'm not too loud, no loud music, and I'm sure someone like you would prefer someone quieter."

I blink behind my helmet, still a year behind their words, but manage a nod.

"Okay then."

They hand me the paper, and point to where I need to sign. I read what it says, and from what I could tell at the time there was going to be an annual, mandatory, planet-wide quarantine sometime in the next few weeks. Nearly all of those words made my nerves spike, but I forced myself to remain still.

I start to sign it, before stopping. I'd nearly written the wrong name. I cross it out thoroughly, and write a scraggly Io on the page instead. It only required the one signature, which I still find odd what with how serious the whole event seemed to sound, and a few check off boxes on the bottom.

"What's your preferred bunking gender?"

"Doesn't matter." I couldn't really tell which one Ayer was at the time, so it seemed the easiest answer.

"What's your preferred meal type?"

"Fast food." Surprised it had its own box.

"What is your relation with this person?"

"Colleague." Not even 'friend'. Not at the time, at least.

And loads of other questions that I didn't fully know how to answer, on which I just guessed.

I handed the paper back to Ayer, and they put it in their bag.

"Great, I'll send it in when we hit ground. We can talk more some other time, but I'll let you get some rest for now, so see you later Io." They said, before heading off towards the center room.

I walked away too, and as I closed the door to my room and took off my helmet, the weight of the day finally crushes down on me. My nerves buzzed for the rest of the night, barely letting me get a few hours of sleep in the end.

A quarantine? Like for dangerous things? Is there a sickness going around? Quarantine us from what? What kind of future-sicknesses are there? No, no, don't think of that, please don't think of that. Where would they be quarantining us? It doesn't sound like we'd be in our own homes? Why can't we quarantine alone? Or maybe I could have been alone, but I just signed away my chance for that? I don't even know Ayer? What if they're a serial killer? Or worse? Would I be able to leave the place if they attacked me? Or would we be locked in? Would there be people outside of the room watching us? People like scientists? Would they do blood tests for sickness? Would they be able to tell from my blood that I'm not from here? No, don't think of that either, it's not going to happen, it can't, think of, um, no not food, not home, think of... no, not stars either, what do I think of, what do I do, just go to sleep, go to sleep, close your eyes and go to sleep.

Even then I think I could tell. A gut feeling, one that jumped with my nerves and that spread from the very tips of my fingers.

I should have said no to them that day. I should have walked away, I should have said no even if it was rude, even if they asked again. I think everything would have been better, then. No, I know it would have been.

But I said sure. And the dominoes started falling, and nothing I did, no matter how much I used to think that I tried, would ever be enough to keep even a single one standing.