Suzanne held her head in her hands, eyes closed. She’d be the first to admit that science and technology were largely closed books to her, but she doubted there was any person or organization on Earth that could do anything even approaching what Mike had offered. What could someone who had access to this kind of power possibly gain out of holding a bunch of random strangers that had nothing in common except that they had boarded the same public bus captive? It sounded like the plot of a sci-fi B-movie; yet here she was, trying to survive it.
Her mind was racing, trying to make sense of what she had learned, or thought to have understood, so far. There had to be a reason, some kind of motivation, even if it wasn’t clear to her yet, for what was happening in Haven. The secret government organization, or space aliens for all she knew, whoever the creators of Haven were, clearly wanted them alive. Alive, intact and fed, and even in good spirits, considering the lengths Mike was willing to go to make her happy.
But to which end? It was possible the mysterious force behind Haven brought them here simply to get some kind of twisted entertainment out of seeing them struggle to live, cut off from everyone else in existence, but Mike’s demeanor made this evil scenario seem less likely. The servant had never been malicious; even their physical altercations were resolved in ways that avoided causing pain and injury, and no threats afterwards. Suzanne thought they were almost being treated like children: appreciated, possibly even treasured, given some freedom to make choices, but also strictly controlled when in came to choices that brought harm to themselves.
Haven felt less like hell and more like a laboratory; less fire and brimstone, more rats running through labyrinths. At least they weren’t receiving electric shocks, she thought. How far could she trust the strange servant? She didn’t know, but something about Mike’s helpful, almost oblivious nature made the gleaming mannequin-like being seem more like a mechanical implement for maintaining the experiment, like a food pellet dispenser in a rat cage, rather than the mastermind behind all this. The servant’s offer to create living photocopies of her parents to keep her happy was baffling and horrifying, but from the point of view of a very literal, almost childlike mind it made a perverse kind of sense. “Fact: she is missing her parents - fact: they can’t be brought to Haven - solution: create something that is as close as possible to the real thing” seemed to be Mike’s train of thought. The servant was just doing a job, with no malice because the concept didn’t apply to them: a machine, though an incredibly advanced and powerful one.
To Suzanne, the “experiment”, if that was what Haven was, seemed like it could only lead to all of them going insane from boredom, or worse. But maybe that wasn’t obvious to the experimenters? They might not be as oblivious as Mike to how humans actually thought, but they clearly either didn’t understand the deep cruelty of this setup, or saw it as acceptable. At least, it seemed that if the passengers were not in danger of dying from starvation or exposure, all they had to do was to stay sane and they might survive here almost indefinitely. But then, Suzanne wasn’t sure if that state of affairs was liable to change, depending on if the experiment had several stages. She dismissed the thought; it was too early to say anything about this. But eventually, the experiment had to end, didn’t it? What would happen then? Lab rats weren’t released back into the wild when the scientists were done with them, were they? The incinerator was a more likely final destination, possibly after dissection. That was assuming this experiment had an actual end; for all she knew, she might have children and grandchildren here and one far future day their descendents would not even know their ancestors had come from a place that wasn’t Haven; all they knew that Mike was there to fulfill their every need, if asked. The thought filled her with a chilling, nauseating revulsion, and she pushed it away.
She didn’t want to speculate any more about what would happen in the next weeks, or days. Stay focused, stay in the here and now, one minute after the other, she admonished herself. Find a reason to stay alive. Everything else she would take one problem at a time.
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