ARC10

Chapter 18.2

I amble to Level 6 in a haze of my own scrambled thoughts. Before I can hold a conscious realization of my destination, I'm already there. My hand locks against the PAHLM of an unknown checkpoint guard. He waves me through.

The room is cavernous. Checking my PAHLM again, I groan.

Level 3 to Level 6 in ten minutes. That has to be a record of some kind.

But now I'm fifty minutes early. Going home to sleep would be pointless, and trying to find anywhere else to visit is equally fruitless. I slip into my chair, fold my arms over my chest, and wait for the rest of the group to trickle in.

Silence doesn't exist in the URE. When we say that we sit in silence or that we wish for silence, we actually mean the absence of human-made noises that top the regular humming of machines, leaking of water, and clinking of gears. There is no real silence down here.

Out of the rhythm of the resonant noises, I identify something vaguely familiar.

The hiss of grinding metal—hydraulics jostling to a quick and shuttering life.

This sound raises every inch of my flesh. I picture it's grotesque form in my mind before I see it lurk around the shadows of the room.

The Xani, possibly the same one from weeks ago, scuttles around the edge of the room, illuminated by blaring, fluorescent sconces as it passes. An involuntary shiver passes through me. I straighten in my chair ready to react to whatever this thing does next.

I think it can sense my gaze. It clatters to a halt at the corner of the room. Its twisted torso and human face snap toward me. Its upside-down mouth drips strings of orange slime from the bottom to the top.

I want to say something to it, but I've turned to goo as well.

My eyes lock on it, disgusting as it is to watch. I can't force myself to look away no matter how much my bones shake.

How will we survive in a universe where something as vile as this can thrive?

Its spindly underbelly whizzes and whistles.

The stinging tik tik tik of its quick feet against the metal floor echoes across the room. The sharp noises pummel right into my skull where they continue in an infinite loop.

Tik tik tik tik.

I follow the noise.

It's a vulgar beat.

A faster beat than my heart. The heart that's about to rapid-fire beat right through my ribs.

It screeches to a halt.

In a sickening, jerky twist, it snaps its head to the side and cracks with each movement.

For once, all the noise of the URE is sucked within that single second where I wait for the universe to react.

It rushes at me.

The disgusting gelatinous face extends merely a breath away from mine in seconds.

Mechanical parts rear up and pin me to the chair. The orange face opens its mouth wide to scream at me without sounds. I drown in its pinching stink.

My hands grip the arms of the chair like I'm about to be shot into space if I don't clasp tightly enough. It's cold metal gears rub against my bare arms. It feels oily, like the acidic cold of slime turned to slush.

I freeze. I can't move. I can't react. I can't even scream. We would be making the same soundless faces at each other with our wordless mouths opening. I don't know what to do, so I stare at it and memorize its ugly, gummy eyes.