For now, the pain was gone.
She lay on the slender, gray, pad inset in the wall of her cell and enjoyed the pain free time that she was experiencing for the time being. She was moderately thankful that the bed, which was the best way to describe it, was accommodating. It was never too hot or too cold and when she lay on it for a few moments it seemed to conform to her body to make her rest more comfortable.
Comfort. She missed comfort. She missed her bed with all of its fluffy pillows, she missed a hot cup of tea, and she missed a hot bath with candles.
But what she missed the most was her family, friends and the smiling faces of her students. She missed the sound of her mother humming as she cooked, and the sound of her father's voice as he explained something to her. She missed the song of laughter that her friends generated when they got together for movies or dinner. She missed the wide eyed wonder, and the hugs of her kindergarten students.
She closed her eyes to the pale, slightly blue, ambient light of the cell. She ran through her mind all the things she didn't want to forget.
The sound of spring peepers, the way sweat peas smelled when they bloomed, the silky fur of her cat Major. The colors of the sun rising and setting, the sound of rain coming through the leaves of the oak trees, the sound of the arctic wind blowing though the bare, tree branches in the winter. The color, warmth and smell of a wood fire and... human touch.
There was no way of knowing how long she was with them. There were no windows, no time telling devise that she could discern. There was no way to determine how long she slept, when she did sleep, and there was no way to judge how long they tortured her.
It was excruciating pain at times, the torture. Her sheer terror made the pain so much worse. The needles, the blades, the drills, the light, the scans and the other devices that she couldn't name but caused just as much pain. These were what her worst nightmares were made of.
She would sob, scream and plead to them. She would swear at them and curse them. But all they ever did was stare at her blankly with their large, inhuman, black eyes.
As time passed she stopped fighting back because she knew it was useless. And when they performed their exams and tests she retreated into herself. She went to the past.
She was a girl again. She was swimming in the cool, pond water with her three older brothers and their cousins on a hot, summer day. Diving down into the dark depths where the water became colder the darker it got. She could sometimes see the sun fish dart away from her when she dived. When she could no longer hold her breath she would shoot to the surface, breaking through with a splash and a large intake of fresh air. After she and the others played themselves out she would climb onto the floating wood platform and lay on her back with the others. They would lie panting as they caught their breath, drifting into a semiconscious state under the blue sky. There was no wind, only the sound of the cicadas.
Another time, she was a teenager searching the hay loft for the new litter of kittens her father told her about. It was the end of summer, almost the beginning of fall, the golden light of the late afternoon came in through the gaps between the slats of the barn wall like knife blades. As she moved though the hay, her feet would stir up the loose hay particles on the floor, causing them to fly into the air. The mewing of the newborn kittens guided her to a dry, warm corner of the loft. After looking them over she found them to be healthy and would have to find homes for the three kittens. She pet the mother cat, knowing the baby sitting money she had been saving up for the summer was going to get her fixed.
The mental retreats she took saved her sanity. It was her defense mechanism.
It was silent when she awoke, but she was sure that some noise had roused her from her sleep. It wasn't the normal hum of the ship. It was also not any of the sounds she had become accustomed to.
She lay still for a time, straining her ears to hear what she believed woke her. She could hear her heart beat in her ears, her quiet breathing and the hum of the ship around her. Closing her eyes to the pale, blue light, she blocked out her own noise and the noise of the ship and listened.
And then, she heard it. Almost like a rustling of a curtain when the window is open a crack. What was it? It was so faint that, had she not truly listened, she wouldn't have heard it. It was intermittent. She lay as still as a corpse as she listened for the sound.
In the next few moments she recognized a pattern, there was a rhythm to it. It was a low sound; surely it wasn't mechanical. It was something alive, she was sure of it.
She rose from her bed, her bare feet touching the cool floor. The hem of the light gray, smock they gave her brushed her mid thigh, and she felt her long, wavy hair fall down her back.
She tilted her head to the ceiling, that incidentally matched the floor and walls of her cell, and listened again. The sound did not come from around her, like the ship's hum, it seemed to come from her right.