Kino Vision Number 12
The kino paused its mournful rewind and listened for the sounds of battle. It hadn’t taken much notice of the alien incursion; been there, done that, as it had once heard Eli say. It had been there when Chloe Armstrong had come out of her quarters, a look of odd curiosity on her face. She’d walked towards the light and had been taken. It had also been present earlier when Colonel Young had exchanged consciousness with the alien; the kino had recognized the behavior immediately. If it could have yawned, it would have done. If it could have given a malicious sniff to note that the alien’s behavior was an improvement, it would have done that, too.
It missed Dr Rush.
The battle seemed to be over so it ventured out of its hiding place and scooted along the ceiling, heading back to the control interface room. It heard a clunk and a squeal of “Matt!”
Ah, she was back.
Wait. How?
Puzzled, the kino floated down the corridor and froze for a moment; it moved forward with a quiver. Greer was pointing his gun downwards.
He said, “Colonel Young said you were dead.”
Rush’s face wore a look that said he knew this already but he replied, “Oh, did he? Did he say how it happened?”
Wanting to know how Young lied.
Young had lied.
Greer said laconically, “Rockslide.”
Imaginative.
Rush said, “Ah, well, obviously he was wrong again.”
The kino tried not to be noticed but as Greer hauled Rush to his feet the scientist spotted it, a familiar scowl settling on his face.
Greer said, “The Colonel will want to see you.”
“He can wait,” Rush said abruptly.
He squelched off down the corridor, his feet bare, the kino bobbing behind him in delight, noting the shocked looks and exclamations as Destiny’s passengers realized he was still alive. He brushed off all of them, saying he needed to have a shower and change.
Rush arrived at his quarters, his hand flailing at the door control before managing to hit it. The door slid open and he went in, pausing at the side of the bed. The room was empty, of course. Nothing in it at all. He nodded, as if this was expected, and let out a shuddering breath. He gave a faint smile at the anxiously hovering kino.
He leaned over and shut the door before sinking down on the bed, his hands clasped, his elbows on his knees, his eyes shut. The kino wondered if anyone would come or if things would return to normal immediately once the surprise was over. It took an hour.
There was a knock at the door. Rush didn’t get up to answer it but the kino hadn’t heard the locking mechanism engage and after a couple more taps, the door opened.
It was Lt Johansen. She held a box.
“Hey,” she said simply.
Rush didn’t say anything.
She put the box down on the bed and said, “I thought I’d keep your stuff safe for you while you were away.”
“While I was dead, you mean,” Rush said in a flat voice. “I wasn’t on holiday.”
She didn’t answer; what was she going to say?
The kino remembered. Eli had said Rush’s room had been trashed but all his belongings were in the box: his iPod, the dock, his laptop, his clothes, everything. The kino could see the picture that Rush sometimes looked at late at night. Johansen had probably hunted them all down. She was kind in a place where kindness was in short supply.
“I see I’m not your first visitor,” Johansen observed.
Rush followed her gaze to the kino. It was a flying camera ball but it tried to look innocent.
“At least someone missed me,” Rush said.
His voice seemed to try for sarcastic but only managed to hit tired.
“I think people missed you,” she responded, her voice dry.
Rush gave a softly disbelieving snort, not seeing the sympathy on her face. Johansen waited for a moment but Rush didn’t say anything further.
She said, “Come by the infirmary when you’re ready.”
It wasn’t until she’d left that he shook his head.
Later, after Rush had eaten, the kino reviewed some of its footage.
“Well, it's good to have you back,” said Volker.
The kino paused on Rush’s glance of faint surprise.
FINIS