“What the hell is this?” I held the curiosity out between my thumb and pointer finger; a clear pill the people behind the liquid meal concoction dropped into my mush as I swiped it from the counter. When I sat down, I fished it out, paranoid by the addition.

“Vitamin D supplement.” 81, who had taken on a chaperone routine in following behind me, answered from the seat at my side. “We’re a little short on sunlight here. Helps to keep our heads on straight.” He tapped his temple with his knuckle twice and swallowed the tablet without a second’s consideration. “Supposedly.”

“Supposedly.” A skeptical echo. I squished the pill as much as it would give without bursting and scrutinized it like I was daring it to break anyway. “Maybe it’s a drug that makes us more susceptible to suggestion.” I’m sure I’d seen that in a movie before. “Like… brainwash.”

81 snatched it from me; tossed it back in my drink with a look I read as cautionary. “Could be.” I frowned at his ominous unconcern. He threw his shoulders up and let his head fall to one side. “Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

While I admired his nonchalance, I was equally grated by it. It was one thing to be adaptable, another to be tolerant. Then there was downright detached. I’d rather it be the latter than someone who submitted themselves. Though if he was completely apathetic then I couldn’t quite place his motivation for showing me the motions where he could. After my games and his dismissal of my every quip, I wasn’t fooling myself into thinking he favored me.

“What about Ja- 71.” 81 grabbed the back of my head and shoved it nearer to his. He gestured with his hand for me to speak softer, something I already thought I was doing. Any more prudence and we’d require telepathy. I batted his hand off of me.

“What about him?”

“He might appreciate the rundown more than me.”  The sparse times I spotted Jay, he was a fish on land, floundering to grapple with the new environment (and continuing to do so out of sight), yet 81 still came to my aid. I would be surprised if it was because he hadn’t noticed Jay when he checked his surroundings so adamantly. If he didn’t care then… there was my answer.

“Probably.” He admitted, “But talking takes a bit of teamwork around here. When he won’t even look me in the face, I don't expect him to make the effort. I hope he’ll come around. It would do him good to.”

I had trouble imagining Jay breaking his silence. I thought because he wouldn’t around me, but he opted out for everyone ー and when I thought I was contesting trust too soon.

“Besides,” 81 went on, “you have better chances.” An encouraging statement, if only he didn’t diffuse a bit in his seat as he said it.

I wasn’t big on the phrasing. It implied incomplete certainty ― a gamble. I wanted it all on the table, especially here. “...Better chances for what?”

“Survival. So to say.”

His cool tone didn’t stop the punch in my gut. The grip on my cup went taut as I attempted to level the spike of my emotion. Being this near, there wasn’t any way my recoiling reaction went unnoticed. I’d hit his shoulder with mine in shock. Like it hadn’t happened, I tried a calm voice, like I wasn’t asking what I did. “Inertia kills people?”

“Parts of them anyway.” He flicked his head toward the end of the table. I followed the motion with my eyes down the rows of grey masses. It took me several seconds to capture what he wanted me to spot.

An inmate, a young woman, sat hunched and non-interactive. Her arms hung lifelessly by her sides with her fingers unfurled by gravity. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing, but by the looks of the full cup in front of her, she definitely wasn’t eating. Her stare was dead ahead, unfocused, and on nothing. The only dissonance in her stillness was listless blinks. She made the quiet conversations look animate in her existential hiatus. I wondered how she’d react to a sudden nudge on the square of her back if only the swollen condition of her face’s left hadn’t disclosed that she’d been handled rough enough already.

81 drug his pitying expression toward her back at me. “Never completely.”

I raised my head back with assurance at his sympathy. I didn’t need to be concerned. My will was stronger than that, too resilient to be undone by my surroundings. If it wasn’t, I’d never have gotten this far to begin with. An impartial third party said he believed as much of me as well. He couldn’t take it back now, even though he was trying to with looks you’d give a small, hurt animal.

“Why not? Seems it would save them the trouble.” I tried to dissuade his concern for me with resistance to threats on my life. I was beginning to think I was being mocked, but I couldn’t place why outside of an overly melancholy regard from someone who kept their expressions otherwise pacified.

“There’s always a chance we’ll still be worth something, something that wouldn’t be good to toss out. They took away the blankets for a reason, you know.”

“That reason being…?”

The lines on his forehead deepened as the observable pity mounted. He wiped it all away with an exhale and another sip, leaving me in suspense long enough to presume what he meant before he explained. “To some people, it doesn’t feel worth waiting it out for the return trip.”

I looked from him to the stagnant women and tried to gauge if 81 had powered past that point or was on the cusp of reaching it. “Do you think it is?”

“Of course. Eventually is still inevitable.” The edges of his lips twitched upward like recalling a fond memory, “That’s all I need.”

Past him, the woman who "eventually" and "inevitably" no longer seemed potent to shivered in an imagined breeze before poking her fingers into the swollen side of her face. “Stop,” I thought, flinching in time with her, “You’re making it worse.” 

Out of a sudden necessity, “You think he’ll end up like that?”, I asked us both.  81 followed my line of sight then shook his head after coming upon her, quick to perceive what I was getting at. 

 “Anyone has the potential to.”