Isolation 4: The Rain

It was another day, some time after that night with the nightmare. Pol did not have one the day after, nor even after that. And then they more or less forgot about it. Their daily talks had now become of nothing else than their dreams, what they saw during the night, or, more precisely, what Pol saw during the night. Ion, regardless of how Pol nagged her, kept to her statement of never dreaming anymore. Pol was not the only one who talked, though. Ion had dreams, or, perhaps, more like thoughts that flickered through her skull during the day.

“I wonder if we aren't already dead?” She said abruptly one time during a lapse in their conversation. “Do you think we would know?”

“I think it’s pretty stupid to forget how you died.”

“I’m starting to forget B.R. as well, or am having an awful lot of difficultly in doing so. Sometimes things will flash back and I’ll remember this odd thing or that one, but I can’t seen to get any real sort of coherency in my memories. It worries me a little bit until I realize that it doesn't matter anymore.”

“I remember B.R. very well.” Pol replied, sounding ruffled by the whole topic. “I remember the others, too.”

Ion sighed deeply, but added nothing to this.

“I remember that I worked in the areoponics division, where I worked with the machinery.” Pol continued, seemingly ignoring Ion and now bent on reciting, more to convince himself, then her. ” I remember that the Section Manager was an old man called Talbot. He had his birthday, his 67^th birthday only the day before…” Here he trailed off uncertainly, then bulldozed on. “I liked that job. My partner, Jul was an idiot, but not a bad guy. There were also the other three aeroponic mechanic pairs besides us in that section, Section 33. Kel and Fan, Peli and Ross, and then there were Carol and Tue. I always woke up early, at 6 a.m. on weekdays and I could sleep in until 9 on the weekends. We had Sunday off. I liked the regularity even if Jul was always complaining about it. We usually went to play table tennis on Sunday and then drink something with the boys. One time, Jul got so drunk he went and kissed Peli. Got him his face smashed in as a reward. I was laughing so hard.”

Not even the joke of the story was told with any more inflection than the beginning, than one would recite a long formula. Pol had told himself and Ion this story, and everything that followed so many times over, it had lost most of its colour and flavour. Ion did not mind. She did not mind that what they did served no purpose. Ten years ago this idea would have shocked her, this blatant lack of doing anything, but nowadays it was the only thing left to do until there was not even that. And it made Pol feel better. That was a good thing. She had been rather worried about the ferocity of his nightmare attack, but as he had no relapses, she gave it no more mind. Besides, it was nice to have the entertainment of listening to what was going on in another person’s head.

“What about you?” Pol asked. He had finished talking without Ion noticing and she started a little at the realization that she was questioned.

“Me?” She wondered.

“What did you do, you know, before?”

“Me?” Ion said again, darting gliding about the room as she tried to get her brain to summon those images of her past.

“Yes.” Replied Pol, slightly put out. “I don’t think you've ever told me what you did before everything.”

“I don’t really know.” Ion sighed. “I worked with people, I know I worked. I’m pretty sure I had a brother or sister, maybe both? Perhaps even my parents had been alive. I did something with computers, now that I think about it, but don’t ask me what as I have no idea. I sometimes try to remember but always end up falling asleep before I manage it.”

“Really?”

“Really?”

“Did you go through something bad? Do you think that’s why you can’t remember?”

“I really don’t know, dear. Perhaps. In which case, it might be better not to force it. I’m fine now and it’s not as if memories would change anything, don’t you think?”

“But what if it was important?”

“Important for what, hmm? For whom? I don’t need it, you don’t need it. For the future? Nonsense. We've enough to keep us alive for the rest of our lives and that’s it. There is nothing after that. No more Humanity. Not one person. So why bother? Why make things worse with worrying away what I might still have? I have all I need and no more. That is enough. We are nothing more than a walking dead.”

“Really?”

There was something in Pol’s tone that made Ion frown, for once.

“Are you asking me if I would rather be like you, who fears everything because he remembers?” She asked with a trifle more emotion than was her usual want. “No thank you. I see how you live and I want none of it. I am pleased that I remember nothing.”

“And what about those people who you forget?” Pol replied, moving in an agitated manner under his blankets, pulling them tigher around himself as if needing the comfort. “Would you let their lives go unremembered? As if they had never existed? What sort of respect is that?”

“What sort of respect does a dead person need? It’s not going to bring them back. Nothing will. And we’ll be going them soon enough anyways. One way or the other. A short separation like that doesn't need to be over-dramatized.”

“Why are you always talking about death?”

“It is the one certain thing remaining, dear. It is the goal of a life to have a good death. To built up to it and be able to put down one’s burdens without regret.”

“I don’t want to put them down yet. There have to be other people like us somewhere.”

“If they are like us, then, like us, they will likely die without knowing about the others and without leaving anything behind. Swallowed by the sands.”

“No.”

“Hmm?” Mumbled Ion, almost asleep now. She yawned. “Don’t be so stubborn. Go to sleep and tomorrow will come along soon and we can eat again. ”

“And then what?”

“Then we’ll go to sleep, just like now.”

“And then? What’s the point of it all.”

“To stay alive until we can no more. No need to complicate things, dear. Now do go to sleep.”

“No, I don’t want to do that.”

“If you don’t want to sleep, then read something. Just read under your blanket please, you know I can’t sleep with a light on, dear.”

“No, I meant that we have to do something.”

“I’m doing sleeping, or would like to, you know?”Ion yawned again, feeling nice and snug in her blankets and not understanding the fuss Pol was kicking up and not, to be honest, caring much about it.

“We have to try and make something here. Try to repair the Habitat, try to find others like us.”

“Now why would I want to spend by energy on something so pointless?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Pol said with a tinge of contempt in his voice now. “You can sit here all day and be ‘dead’ if you prefer to, but I’m going to try to make something.”

Ion tittered quietly.

“You can’t even think of going outside without going into a fit.”

“I came here.”

“True. Very brave, too, but you were a nervous wreck for over three weeks afterwards.”

“I think I can desensitize myself step-by-step.” Pol replied, now more to himself.

“You do that, dear. I’m sure you’ll do fine. A hobby is always a good thing to have.”

Pol answered something, but Ion was fast asleep by that time the voice reached her ears.

 

That night both of them were awakened by the sound of thunder rumbling. They opened their eyes almost immediately at the loud, deep sound. They di nothing else, though.

“Did you hear that?” Asked Pol quietly, voice muffled by his blanket as the noise rolled away.

“Yes.” Ion replied, wondering if she really had.

“The Rain is back.” Pol said, voice becoming more muffled and strained. “I think it found out that I came here.”

“Do you think so?”

“It came when we went out last. It struck at the worst possible moment, as if it knew how to best kill us off.” His voice was now almost unintelligible. “And now its comes after went out again and came here. It’s as if it knows and is awaiting for us to move.”

Ion thought about this.

“It could have struck when you were between the two Habitats, but it didn't. I don’t think there is any connection, or not like that.”

Another, louder peel of thunder rang through, shaking the Room, before Pol even had time to think of an answer. Both of them quailed and shook in horror as the sound reverberated about the confined space and seemed to try to shake their haven apart. Ion pulled up her blanket about her head which was pulled in between her shoulders in fear; shaking as she looked about as her belongings as they fell from their shelves and places. The building itself seemed to be trembling in terror at the sound the heavens were making.

 

And Ion remembered.

 

“Uen!” Cried Ion. “Uen! Where are you?! Uen?”

“He’s not gonna be coming back, girl, now run.” This was from a stern-looking middle-aged woman who was hauling her along almost bodily along a long, gray corridor. It was dark and sparsely lit with flickering neon lights that ran along it cold, steel sides. Many of them were not working.

“But Uen’s back there! We can’t leave him!”

“We can and we will! He’s not worth going back for anymore, child. Keep moving or it will be all for nothing! Get, now, get!”

 

Ion then remembered a small room, much smaller than the Room, more like the small ante-room that was attached to her familiar abode. It was packed full of thin, white boxes gathering dust. She was lodged there, hugging herself close as the old woman had gone off to see how things were. She was alone and afraid. And she had no idea what to do, or if she would ever see anyone again.

Tears were running down her cheers and she was shivering.

 

“Ion?”

Ion blinked.

“Ion?”

The voice came again. She frowned as it was rather familiar.

“Ion? Are you alright? I don’t think you’re asleep. No one could fall asleep after all that.”

Ion brought up her hands and rubbed some life into her face. She then looked to her side and saw Pol’s face staring back at her from right beside her. This woke her up better than all else. She gave a small shriek and scrambled away from her room mate, making her chair fall backwards in her attempt to get away.

“Too close!” She panted, clutching her blanket around her. “Too, too close.” She added, as if this was some sort of mantra that would help her calm down.

“Sorry.” Pol said, backing away back to his own half of the Room while looking down at the floor. “Only the storm past and you didn't answer when I asked something.”

It took a moment for Ion to get over her terror. It helped that Pol was backing off and things were going back to what was usual.

“What did you ask?”

Pol looked nonplussed, then brightened a bit. 

“I asked you if you think the Rain gave up.”

Taking a deep breath, Ion gathered her senses and then gathered her spilled chair, pillows, blankets and all from the ground, arranging thigns as she liked them again. Finally making things comfortable again, she looked about the Room which was in a state of complete disarray. Nothing much seemed to be broken, so she was not overly bothered by this. It only meant she had something a bit different to do the next day: tidy up and put thing in order again.

“Oh, I don’t know, dear.” She replied at last, getting a sigh from Pol for some reason. “It might or it might not. It’s difficult to know with rains, especially Rain.”

There was a thoughtful silence for a moment.

“You’re not mad at me for going close to you, are you?” Pol asked nervously, this obviously playing on his mind. He had his own restrictions in his behaviour, he knew, and Ion had hers. She had always respected his and now he had gone and over-stepped one of her boundaries. “I was only afraid you might have been hurt or something.”

Ion bit her lip. She bit it so hard it began to bleed. Even the idea of someone being that close to her made her feel nauseous. It was all she could do not to let her emotions overwhelm her again.

“I understand.” she said, tightly. “But please do not do it again, dear. I would rather die than have someone close again.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry.” Said Pol quietly, head under his blanket again, still sounding worried for all the cloth between them. “I, I only would not like to be alone. Really would not like it. Really. Sorry. I won’t, though. Never ever.”

Ion did not reply, pressing a hand against her bleeding lip and feeling the throbbing sensation extend down to her jaw as she did. It was her heart pulsing. She found herself think it strange that it was only at times when she injured herself that she remembered that she did have a beating heart and she was not as dead as she suspected.

“You forgive me, don’t you?” Pol’s voice said quietly, as if dreading the exact opposite. Ion could not see why.

“Of course.” She said faintly, mind elsewhere completely.

“Really? I really didn't mean it. I was so worried I forgot, is all.”

“Of course, of course, dear.” Ion muttered, feeling blood trickling down her hand now as she tried to speak. “I know. I fogive you, don’t worry.”

She was wondering how her blood could feel so much like those tears she had shed in that little storage room all those years back. Slowly, all went quiet and they drifted back into sleep again.