Page 33 of Us Dark Few

Khalani walked over to the mysterious box. “They used this before the Great Collapse?”

“Yes. After years of tinkering with it, Charles got it to work. Before the Great Collapse, they called it a record player. Back when life flourished on the surface, people recorded music on these circular disks, which would play the song back. Remarkable thing. Right now, it’s playing an album from the movieGrease. When I got thrown in here fifteen years ago, Charles was still trying to fix the old television set, so I never got to see the movie. But it’s one of Winnie’s favorites.” Winnie rocked side to side with happiness, her energy infectious.

“You’ve been here fifteen years, Winnie?” Khalani’s eyes widened.

Winnie’s gaze fluttered upward and she started counting with her fingers. “Hmm, let’s see. One, two, three…yep! Fifteen years. Goodness, has it been that long?” Winnie continued to stare at the ceiling, like an intricate pattern resided in the cracks, one only she could see.

Would Khalani be able to survive fifteen years in Braderhelm?

A part of her didn’t want to last that long.

“Winnie, why were you sentenced here?”

Winnie waved her hand dismissively and returned to punching letters on the machine. “Oh, Winnie got thrown in here for having too big of an imagination. You see, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather…” She pursed her lips, counting her fingers with each great.

“Not sure if that’s correct. But right before the Great Collapse, mygrandfather was a big scientist. Timothy Talbot was his name. Yes, that was it. He was brilliant. Worked on something so grand you couldn’t even dream it. Something unbelievable…” Winnie trailed off, staring at the painting that had caught Khalani’s eye the last time. The one with the man heading toward the strange, imposing structure.

Her eyebrows pinched together. There was something odd in Winnie’s voice as she spoke. Almost a sense of unease, a stark contrast to her usual disposition.

“What did he work on?” Khalani asked.

Winnie was startled out of her stupor. “Oh, nothing. Nothing, dear. Don’t even know why Winnie would say that. A tale of eons past. Winnie would secretly take some of the books from the Archives home with her. Incredible stories. Winnie has a feeling you would like them.” Winnie grinned.

Khalani sat forward as Winnie spoke, her elbows on her knees and hands clutched together, completely enraptured. “What did they say?”

“Everything you didn’t know you needed to hear.”

The statement resonated with how the poetry book enraptured her mind that fateful night. The intricacy and shape of every story, as potent as the blood flowing through her veins, set her mind ablaze, and she relished the burn.

Reading was like sucking in a gulp of air after holding your breath for a lifetime. Or falling in love. Khalani had never been in love, but she imagined that that’s what it felt like. An emotion that gave your soul wings.

“But,” Winnie continued, “someone else at the Archives saw Winnie taking the books and ratted her out. That’s how Winnie ended up here. But the damage was already done. That’s the beauty of knowledge. If it’s remembered, the meaning can’t be fully erased.”

Khalani frowned as Winnie turned to the machine. She remembered it all. The crackling of the fire and the despair nearly crippling her body as the book disintegrated before her very eyes.

“What are you working on?” Khalani cleared her throat, shoving the never-ending torment away until it dulled.

“This is an old typewriter.” Winnie rubbed the faded green metal adoringly. “What they used to make books long ago.”

She blinked in surprise, bending to inspect the odd apparatus. “It still works? What are you doing with it?”

Winnie pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes at Khalani, as if her soul laid bare. “Can you keep a secret?”

She leaned forward. “Of course.”

Winnie rubbed her palms together in anticipation. “This, dear, will be a complete history of Apollo. Our journey needs to be recorded and preserved, especially the bad parts, so we don’t repeat our mistakes. When we finally return to the surface, this will be our guide,” she finished proudly.

Khalani threaded a hand through her hair. “Oh, you mean if we all go up to Genesis someday?”

A fairy tale for her.

She would take Takeshi’s advice and not even dream or lose herself in hope. No point in extra suffering over something that would never happen.

Winnie waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, silly. Not that cursed dome they call Genesis. I’m talking about the surface. Earth, with the natural, free air.”

Winnie really was crazy.

Khalani would rather be in Braderhelm than have her organs fried on the surface.

---