Dark Matter • Bellamy Blake [Slow Updates]

Problems and Solutions

My blue eyes scale the charcoal shmeared matrix of numbers that litter the bland walls of my cell. I am currently attempting to save the last of humankind by solving one acrimonious problem. A heavy burden for a lone 17-year-old girl to bear.

"Every problem has a solution," I remind myself of Jake Griffin's words.

It's quite ironic, how my uttermost strength, my intelligence, seems to be the source of my downfall. If I hadn't noticed the flaw of the Ark, I wouldn't be here, imprisoned in a dingy cell along with my sole companion, my brain. Patiently waiting to be floated into the oblivion.

Let me elaborate, tomorrow is my 18th birthday, the date of my extinction, after tomorrow there will be no Stella Knight.

And that is why it is so imperative that I solve this catch-22. I have to do it for the Ark, for Jake Griffin; and lastly, for myself.

The aspect of death doesn't intimidate me; however, what genuinely terrifies me is the insidious ebbing of time, will I make it to my literal deadline?

My back remains facing the cell doors as they open. I ignore the two guards that walk in and continue to jot down another calculation on the clustered wall.

"Prisoner 367 face the wall," one of the two dim guards demand.

"Wow, observational skills are prime with this one", I jest, indicating that I was indeed facing the wall to start with.

This must have touched a nerve, for in a matter of seconds the ignorant guard aggressively grasped a single wrist of mine, holding it in front of me.

"Hey! I don't think you got the memo, birthdays are celebrated the day you're born; to be blunt, you're a day too early," I exclaim, tugging my wrist from his grip.

The remaining guard proceeds to unlock a secure metal case, in the case lies a metal wristband, similar to the prototype Abby and Jake Griffin were working on, it was capable of evaluating the vital signs of human life. "Cool tech", I observe.

Subsequently, the guard clasps the metal wristband onto my wrist, it's teeth sinking into my skin with a hiss. Then it dawns on me, why would I need this wristband? To go somewhere life threatening, that is in need of severe evaluation. This was it, the Ark's last desperate attempt to survive. We're going to Earth.

Every problem has a solution, although it may not be the outcome that was originally hoped for or expected

My cool demeanor melts as I come to this final conclusion. We are phenomenally screwed. "Wait no! It's not safe, I just need a day! Give me a day and I'll find you a solution!" I beg, "You won't survive up here if I can't survive down there, I'm your only hope!" I yell. However my protests were in vain, the guards completely ignore my irrelevant outburst.

In the thrill of the moment I chose to I knee these two drones in their family jewels and race out my cell doors. The skybox stages a complete pandemonium. The delinquents' resistance and the guards' tranquilizers and shock batons does not prove to be a satisfying equation. Among all this chaos I spot Abby Griffin embracing her daughter Clarke. I gasp as I witness a guard deceitfully tranquilize Clarke in her mother's arms on her command. Just like every other system, Abby Griffin possesses a flaw as well, she commits transgressions all the while convincing herself and the common populace that it is all for the 'greater good'.

As Abby walks away from her unconscious daughter, she turns towards me and is startled with my appearance.  

"Stella?!" she discerns, "I am so relieved to see you," she explains.

"Cut the pleasantries, Abby. I know everything, I always do", I seethe.

"Look, Stella, I know we have had our differences..." she begins to deduce.

"You killed him, you killed your own husband," I interrupt her heatedly, my own words reopening emotional scars of mine.

"And I have to live with that", she hastily concludes, "however, I need you to work with me, you and Clarke are my last hope, with your guidance we have a chance" she pauses, "and that's more than enough."

And this is precisely when I black out.

Damn Tranquilizers.