“Look for the window.”
I started scanning the room. It wasn’t too big; it would take me a few seconds to realize -
“There is no window.”
“Can’t be. Keep looking. It has to be here somewhere. There’s always a window.”
“You’ve been here before, right? Don’t you remember where you saw it last?”
“Things have changed. The room is quite different from what I remember. And anyway, I am as new to this place as you are. Just keep looking..”
Was there a hint of wistfulness in her voice? I decided not to pursue the matter further.
“Alright. You take the North end, I’ll take the South. Ping me if you find something.”
“How much time do we have?”
“Not much. A few clicks, maybe.”
“Then let’s not waste any. Scanner up!”
We powered up our scanners and trotted off in different directions.
The first thing that stuck me about the room was the shape. It was oblong. Like a passageway that had been held at two ends & stretched. Also, the decor – or rather, the lack of it – was as spartan as spartan goes. Incidentally, there was no furniture. Then again, you wouldn’t expect there to be any furniture in a room like this. Technically speaking, it wasn’t even a room.
“101, come in. Come in, 101″
What? She found it already?
“101 here. What did you find? Over.”
“I’m not quite sure. Have you seen the skirting? Over.”
“Skirting? What skirting? Over.”
“The tiles that run along the bottom of the walls. See them? Over.”
“Yeah, I see them. Meet me at the door. Over.”
“Already here. Over.”
Efficient as ever. Bitch.
I turned & headed towards the door, cursing myself for not having seen the obvious. Of course, it had to be the skirting, what else? It fit the profile perfectly. Moreover, what better place to hide that in plain sight? We’d have to be careful, though. One wrong move and-
“So what do you think?”
“It looks like the real thing. The question is: which one’s ours?”
“The one that’s been least used?”
“We only have one move.”
“We make it, then.”
“Alright. Let’s do it. We gotta find it first.”
“Already found. Look here.”
She was pointing at the door. The tiles that skirted the edge of the door were brand new – or rather, as brand new as they could get, anyway. She moved towards them.
“Wait!” I almost screamed.
“Trust me,” she said.
And she pressed the tile.
(To Be Continued)
I am back with yet another story-in-parts. I’m not sure how this one will end though. I’m oscillating wildly between three possible outcomes. Tell me what you think of it? :)