I open my eyes to darkness. I blink and my eyelashes catch against fabric. A blindfold. Thick too, else it’s just really dark in the room.
I’ve been left in a standing position and my body is stiff from it. I shift my shoulders a bit, tilt my head back and forth, wiggle my fingers. Yep, I’m definitely restrained. I try to move my arms and it becomes immediately apparent that my wrists are secured to the wall behind me. The restraints are cold, hard, and smooth. Probably some sort of metal.
I try moving my feet next and am surprised to find them entirely unrestrained. I try to move them forward and stub my toe incredibly hard. I stifle a yelp and begin (more carefully) wiggling my foot to distract myself from the pain. After a bit, I slowly start exploring the space in front of me with my other foot. It seems there’s a wall about a foot in front of me connected to shorter walls on either side of me. I’m in a box. Well isn’t that just great.
I feel fear creeping up my throat and firmly push it down. I’ll have lots of time to feel things later; right now, I need to focus on getting out. I close my eyes and focus on my breath. Then I reach out with my senses. I feel the texture of the world around me.[1] As I had guessed, we’re in
Nexus (7/B).
I almost relax before I realize where we’re headed and my fear doubles, pain building in the centre of my chest. My box is starting to feel like a coffin. I need to get out of here. I need to—
I take another breath and focus myself outwards again. I start to feel out the dimensions of the box, taking the time to get it exact to the millimetre. They might have thrown me in something else, but the measurements match those of stasis pods used for long trips through space or Nexus. It seems to have been retrofitted with handcuffs but, more importantly, it’s currently powered off. Or broken, I suppose.
I’ve seen these pods before and they have an internal release in the case of emergencies. I wiggle my left wrist and realize the bounty hunters hadn’t removed my bracelet. They probably thought it was just jewelry—most people do—but still, it’s a bit sloppy of them.
I shake my wrist trying to shift the bracelet around. It is a slow process, requiring an aching amount of time during which my body is desperate to run, to press against the restraints and writhe until they break. My arm starts cramping. I try to breathe. It doesn’t help.
Finally, I get the bracelet turned the right way around (or, at least, what I hope is the right way around), send a quick prayer to the Second, and hit the bracelet against the wall. Something hot passes by my cheek and I immediately move my hand from the wall. The heat stops.
I smell burning hair and sigh. I thought for sure it was facing down. I had moved my foot out of the way and everything. I thank the last Second for not burning my ear off and start shaking my hand to move the charm to the other side of my wrist. After a little while and a cautious head tilt, another beam of heat passes and the metal cuff around my left wrist falls off. Anticipating this, I manage to catch it on my foot so it doesn’t hit the floor. I let out a shaky breath.
I pull off the blindfold, which I realize is actually a nice quality sleeping mask, and blink slowly as my eyes adjust to the pod’s dim light. Then, much more easily, I start on burning through the second cuff. I pull the laser charm off my wrist and it grows to about the size of a pen in my hand. I aim and hit the button on the side twice. Done.
I replace the laser on the bracelet and it accommodatingly shrinks back to charm size and reattaches itself. With both hands free, it is easy to find the emergency release on the door. I press my ear against the metal, listening for anyone that might be outside. I hear nothing, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone sitting there. After a few minutes, I decide to risk heading out.
I pull the latch and the door pulls up, exposing an empty room. Across from me, I see a closed door. I creep up to it, forcing myself to walk slowly while all my body wants is to run. There’s no window, so I try to listen again, holding my breath and straining my ears. I hear nothing which, of course, could mean anything.
I spend a moment then taking stock of myself. I seem relatively uninjured, if a bit groggy, and all my charms are still on my bracelet. My holocom is missing though. I remember then that it was in my pocket when I was nabbed and sigh, imagining the alleyway in Quor where it must be lying abandoned.
I run a finger over the spot it usually occupies and start tallying how much being kidnapped has cost me. Travel price for getting back, new holocom—I feel around my pockets—new emergency snacks. I’d be a lot more annoyed about it tomorrow, given I make it out of this alive.
I try another listen at the door. Still nothing. Unhappily, trepidatiously, I open it.
[1] Jinsang’s ability to sense his surroundings and identify his location is rare and not something everyone from other dimensions, or even everyone from Cona, possesses. While the audience this story was written for would understand how a lot of this works, Jinsang’s ability has some unique aspects, so it is discussed more later.
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