The sun was not shining brightly on the last day Fordo expected to be at the Uracil Centre. The birds were not singing. The flowers didn't bloom. The world was not celebrating the possibility of the "little guy" trampling the power of The Man. The sky was slate grey, drizzling and sad. It was cool; too cold for a sweatshirt, too warm for a coal. The world couldn't care less.

Fordo got up earlier than usual. (Getting up meaning getting out of bed and not waking up. He was yet to sleep that week.) He meandered to the nurses' station and requested a cup of coffee. It was a nurse he didn't know and she seemed half-asleep, her shift almost over. The nurse hardly made eye contact as she received his request and half-heartedly shooed him away so she could call the kitchens in peace.

Fordo returned to his room and got dressed fully, pulling off the prior day's clothes he had lounged in for so long and replacing them with newer, cleaner ones. He then folded his clothes, being as non-chalaunt as possible, and slipped them into his bag. This shouldn't seem suspicious, he assured himself. He hadn't unpacked his bag since his arrival, rather stored his clothes in there shortly after his original inventory. The only thing left out had been his books and the clipping on Cosmo Schneider. Cosmo. He couldn't forget that.


He ate his breakfast quietly, still concentrating on his plan. He had the cards and, therefore, directions. He'd break into Moscoe's office and snag the knife on his way out. As long as the Uracilians didn't have internal security systems, he's have smooth sailing as soon as he left the office.

Are you always this pensive? His head snapped up from the little counter. The strange girl who'd given him the deck sat on the bed, studying him.

He smiled. D-depends.

She nodded. I figured as much. Are you ready?

For tonight? She nodded again. I g-guess. Sh-shouldn't I b-be?

Most likely. Considering the fact that you'll have to go in- She glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. -fourteen hours.

He shrugged. Are you h-helping m-me?

What do you think? She hopped off the bed and came towards him, leaning across the table and looking him dead in the eyes. Listen to me very carefully, Fordo Summers. You must escape from here tonight. Too much depends on it. Do you understand?

He looked around for some sign of an answer. No.

She rolled her eyes. Do you at least understand that you have to escape?

Yeah. Got that.

Good. She headed towards the doorway.

Wait! The girl stopped and turned around back towards him. That was when he noticed it. If she hadn't turned in the exact way she did, if she wasn't facing the window at that angle, he wouldn't have noticed. But she did and was, and he saw it: her shadow didn't match. He couldn't say how, precisely, but it just, well, didn't. The girl of the shadow seemed stranger, less clear and more alien to his eyes. Who are you?

A friend. Her gaze was clear and definite. A friend you need right now.

Are you deceiving me?

Not in that. They sat for a moment, each assesing the other as best they could. Moscoe's office will be clear at a quarter to nine tonight. You'll have five minutes to retrieve what you require and I suggest you use them wisely. The corridors between here and your destination will be clear five minutes prior to then. When you reach the door, follow the stairs until you're underground and continue down the passageway until the end. You can easily find your way from there.

Where can I find you?

I'll return before you end this journey, Fordo Summers. You can expect that. She reached inside her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. If you run into trouble, call this place. He took the slip and unfolded it to find only a name: Basil Baker.

What do you mean? There's no number!

Not call on the phone. Just...call to him. We'll find you.

With that she left, disappearing like the first time and leaving Fordo to his thoughts.

Fourteen hours remained.



----------
Oh, it's getting all plot-oriented and stuff. What now!!!

Kirily Wood