I awoke to a pounding headache.

For a minute I was absolutely certain I was a freshman again, making the worst mistake of my life at some ridiculous party. This felt exactly like my worst and only hangover. I half-opened one eye and the light nearly blinded me. I groaned, shutting it right back again. The entire right side of my face felt like it had been run over by a truck.

My only thought was forcing myself to make it to the university somehow. To my lab ... to the mice.

"Lovely! You're awake!"

And just like that, the bass tones of Eli's voice snapped me straight back to reality. To the events of last night. The real reason my head was pounding.

"How do you feel?"

I groaned again, forming words required effort I didn't think I possessed. The back of my eye was throbbing. It wasn't possible, but it was how I felt.

I know she had come much closer to me, I could smell a sweet combination of citrus and flowers, like I had been transported to an orchid somehow. It was soothing, "Yeah I don't think paracetamol will cut it." Her hand found it's way through my curls and I might have stopped breathing, "Hmm, let's elevate your head a bit." And she lifted my head gently onto a pillow, "Okay," she then said, softer than before, "I'm going to go backwards from ten, rate the pain."

I wasn't really sure how I was going to do that without talking but I didn't have the strength to argue.

"Ten?" A pause, "Nine?"

I tried to nod, but moving my head made the hammering in it so much worse. So I groaned again.

"Nine." It wasn't a question this time, "And the light is bothering you too, isn't it?"

Another groan.

"Okay." Eli ran a hand over my throbbing temple, "I'll pop one patch here," she said, "that should ease the pain shortly." And the scent of orchids faded as her footsteps receded. "I'll have someone over with a second patch, maybe some ice too."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't relish the silence, however long it lasted. My headache calmed a little. The nausea faded too. When I finally mustered the strength to open my eyes again I found I could really only open one. My right eye had swollen shut, either because of the unnecessary tears I had shed or the fact that I had landed face-first yesterday. Or, I realised with a sickening jolt, maybe it was because of the contact lens I never took off ... dammit!

I forced myself upright and reached for my left eye. The thin, soft plastic had to be peeled away, like plaster. Probably wasn't the best way to do it, but I had more important matters to worry about. I reached for my right eye next, and wasn't surprised to find the lens missing.

I groaned for a whole different reason now.

I was tempted to fumble about the place until I found the buzzer, but a loud knock prevented any of that from happening.

"The patch seems to be working," someone chirped, it was hard to make out who. Without my lenses, I was basically blind. The voice was different though, high pitched and nasally instead of the throaty music I was looking forward to. I could smell the perfume too, strong, almost suffocating as my chin was tilted up. "The patch is doing well, I think we can switch to ice and compressions for the swelling."

"I'll need saline water too," I grunted, massaging my temple gently. I could feel the small plastic tape Eli had left there, the 'patch.' Thinking about her made my face flush so I redirected my thoughts to the patch itself. Besides, between the glass tablet and the advanced medicine I wasn't really sure I was still on the same planet.

"Saline water?" the woman repeated the question slowly.

"Yeah," I responded, trying to massage my eye as gently as possible, "my lens is in here somewhere, I need to flush it out."

The silence that followed was louder than the crash that proceeded it. I could make out a blurry splotch of grey fall over and then get back up, "I-I need to speak to the director." And she was gone.

I was pretty certain I had said lens, not bomb, but the way she had run, you wouldn't really know. So I rest my head against the frame, massaging my eye as gently as I could. It would fall out eventually. It always did.

I was left massaging my eye for a good while before I heard another knock, gentler this time. And even if I couldn't see very well, I knew exactly who it was.

"Don't you have real patients to see?" I asked Eli as she handed me an ice bag and took a seat near the edge of my bed. Or at least, a white fuzzy blob that smelled like orchids did.

"Real patients?" She chuckled, while I pressed the frozen blue bag over my right eye, "You telling me you were faking all this time?"

I grinned too, mostly because I was glad to see she wasn't an oddity like most of the people here. I tried to ignore the heat radiating off my face despite the block of ice on half of it, "I actually meant people with more critical issues," I rambled, pausing the massage to scratch the back of my neck. I might have been sweating a little too. "I mean there's nothing wrong with my brain..."

Another chuckle, "Well jury's still out on that."

My neck snapped in Eli's direction with an even wider grin. Witty retorts? She was too good to be true. I laughed, still flushing a little, "Really? Is that how you address all your patients?"

"Only the ones that take on psychopaths with a ballpoint pen."

I laughed again, just as the wafer-thin plastic slid out of my eye in a stinging, yet satisfying surge of tears. "Finally!" I shut both my eyes with a content sigh.

Eli, however, winced, "Is that um ... your contact lens?" She sounded very tentative, as if she were poking a bomb too.

"I'm guessing they're just as forbidden as phones."

"Oh yeah ..." she let out a small nervous laugh, "don't let anyone see you're wearing them," Eli added, "the last person with lens turned out to be a spy."

I hoped she was joking, but I was beginning to see a very real trend of paranoia in Sodalitatem Tectus. "I've got glasses in my bag ..." I let out another sigh, a frustrated one. I had no idea where my bag was either, not since I'd left the airport.

"This one?" Eli got off my bed, but I couldn't really see where she went until she cried, "Aha! Found them!"

I had never been so grateful to receive my glasses and have the world around me transform into a vibrant variety of colours and textures. "Thank you."

Eli grinned, and a small dimple appeared on her left cheek. It suited her, "I'm going to hazard a guess and say you're staying here tonight too." Her brows furrowed together as she gave me a slow smile.

I shook my head, "I need to feed my mice," I insisted, "I didn't come here to sleep. I'm running out of time." I hated doing this to her but I had no choice. I plopped out of bed, "I feel well enough," I told Eli, "I need to get to my lab immediately and you need real patients, you're not a General Physician."

She perked at the last statement, showing me her dimple again, "Okay," she said, pushing my shoulders down so I was forced to sit on the bed again, "I'll talk to the director. Don't move."

"I'd get lost if I tried," I confessed.

I don't know if it was me or Eli who convinced Riquebourc, but the next time I saw her she was with Horatio and someone I had never seen before. He was broad and well-built, with a brown, faded comb over and steely brown eyes. He looked apathetically at the floor as Horatio explained I was going to be led to the lab.

I noticed amid Horatio's incessant ramblings that the man caught Eli's eye and winked. I also noticed, clear as day. how she lit up at it, twisting daggers in my gut. I didn't know this man but I despised him already.

I forced my attention back to Horatio. Whatever really. I was here for Ma. Once I would walk into my new lab, I was never leaving again. Not until I had a cure for her.

"This man," Horatio continued, oblivious to my attention, or lack thereof, "is Oskar Jones. He will be your bodyguard—"

"I don't need a bodyguard," I interrupted, forcing the calm in my voice like I had with the university board so many times before, "I need to start working."

Horatio looked at me with a frown, almost as if I had sprouted a second head. "The Director insisted—"

"—I am this close to grabbing a plane out of this damn place!" I snarled. My anger seemed to be stored just in reach these days, always ready to sprout. But I was getting very sick of the needless ministration I was constantly receiving. I wasn't here to be treated like royalty, I was here to work. And if they weren't going to let me work, I might as well head back to Seris.

"Okay!" Oskar squeezed himself in between the pair of us, and I suddenly realised I was standing. Towering above the tiny Horatio who barely reached my elbow, yet he stood with his back stiffened, meeting my glare with one of his own. "Let's take a deep breath," Oskar then said, placing a hand on each of our chests, "Dr Gilbert, let's take you to your lab." He turned to Horatio, "Please leave, I've got this."

"Very well," Horatio said, refusing to look away as he turned to leave, muttering something about arrogance.

Oskar patted my back, as I continued boring holes in the back of Horatio's skull with nothing but my eyes.

He grabbed my bag next, "Come on big guy."

My eyebrow shot up at the remark, big guy? What was I, a mastiff? Although Oskar was probably one of the only people I had met that was only a head shorter than me. Also, given how his muscles bulged in the camouflage outfit, I wasn't going to pick a fight with him. It would be as stupid as my decision to tackle my high school bully, Billy Larkin. I'd been pummeled enough for a lifetime.

I soon discovered, however, that my first impression of Oskar was entirely misconstrued. He wasn't apathetic, if anything, he was the "big guy." The man didn't shut up the entire ten-minute journey to the laboratory.

He talked about everything, from the location of the cafes and sleeping quarters to the people I needed to avoid, and the list was long. It occurred to me that what I had mistaken for indifference might actually have been boredom.

Either way, it wasn't hard to zone out of his constant chatter. By the time we left the medical complex, I was, instead, taking in the view. It almost looked like I'd stepped out into a courtyard. Buildings of different heights and lengths encircled the smooth, grey, sandstone tiles, and in the centre stood a fountain.

I nearly mistook it for a statue at first until I saw the water. The statue in the fountain sat with her legs folded, holding the earth. She wore a long loose dress and her long hair fell on her shoulders as she shut her eyes. Her eyebrows knotted close together betraying an expression of immense pain. Storm clouds gathered around her knees and feet.

The fountain was designed to make the storm clouds look like they were raining. I watched as every passing pedestrian thrust their forefinger into the fountain and ran it over their head. They looked like ordinary citizens, most of them wore jeans and yoga pants too. So I was left wondering the importance of this fountain.

"Mater Procellas," Oskar said from beside me, as if he could hear my thoughts, "She's supposed to ward off the big storm."

"Superstition," I muttered, recalling Siobhan's weird moment with the sky.

"Religion," Oskar responded, his voice edging a little, "don't be an ass, Dr Gilbert."

Too arrogant, Ma had said, she wasn't wrong now was she? "Sorry." I turned away from the fountain to my bodyguard, "I didn't mean to insult your beliefs."

"Oh I don't believe in that stuff," he chirped, giving my shoulder a painful and very unwarranted squeeze before he lead the way again.

Lovely.

I massaged my shoulder, following Oskar past a series of narrow, terraced houses that I was told were the living quarters and into an imposing, mirrored building.

The mirrored building had double doors like the airport, only they slammed shut in my face as soon as Oskar had gone through. I raised an eyebrow that I was sure could be seen through the glass even if it appeared mirrored on my side.

But my annoyance was short-lived, the sandstone tile beneath my feet vibrated and a holographic display of my details hovered in the air, right in front of me. My full name, Theodore, not Theo as I was often called, my age, my weight, my height, even my city of birth. All of it was there.

And then the doors opened.

I stood face to face with my bodyguard again. I walked inside, the cool blast of air greeting me as Oskar laughed nervously. But there was little humour to the situation, "It's always a little weird the first time," he said with a small shrug.

"You mean invasive," I corrected, looking back at the doors that had sealed themselves behind me. Even I didn't know my exact height until today. And I didn't need a reminder of my abysmal weight plastered in front of me either.

"Yeah, we don't use that word here." Oskar let out another chuckle, still just as jittery as the last and just as unnecessary.

I tried to switch the topic back to something calmer, my mice for instance, "Where do I go?" I turned to the array of white doors that lined either wall, and the large empty space in between.

"Oh, lab two." He motioned to the first of the series of doors on my right, "But all the labs are empty really so take what you want."

"All the labs are empty?" I echoed, "Where are the other scientists?"

His eyes widened too late, "Oh you know ... on their way."

"Sure," I muttered dryly. I was a chump too it seemed. But I made my way to the lab without engaging with Oskar any further. I still held the ridiculous notion that everything would be okay as soon as I got to the lab. As soon as I buried myself in my work.

And I entered the lab, taking in the marble slabs, the computer, and what looked like a chemical synthesising machine. About a hundred mice were behind a wall of glass. Little words lit up as I approached the glass, the temperature, the pressure, number of heartbeats.

I turned around again. In the far corner of the square room was another glass wall, behind which I could see a cot and an adjoining bathroom. And just outside were my two mice in their cages, still asleep ... no not asleep. Their bellies weren't rising and falling anymore.

I approached the cage, taking in their weirdly contorted bodies.

They were dead.

My mice were dead.