Chapter Text
Nomi’s routine was very simple:
6:00: Wake up. Listen to the radio. The host was fond of the phrase “Beethoven, Brittney, and Bluescore,” and those were a couple of good music centuries. Roch only had one good channel, though- the others were supposed to be therapeutic.
7:00: Breakfast and transfers arrive. Roch was way out on the edge of the Accord, past Nyrina, but a state of the art facility like this meant new prisoners- patients- from all over. Not every day, of course. Most patients came from New Home, which was only a couple of light hours away, but if they didn’t, it was still usually only a day or two to jump back home- nothing so far as Sol.
7:30: Nurse shift change. Morning pleasantries (Group. Sharing emotions. Meeting new peers.)
8:00: Meds. Exercise. Something about Null-Rot. Make sure to use all of your muscles so they don’t atrophy.
9:00: Group again. Aside from the morning and evening feelings-talks, groups changed every day- It was a month-long program.
10:00: The Park, a garden out the Ward’s back door. Tend to hydroponics. Play games with peers. Enjoy the simulation of sunlight, and the feeling that you might’ve left if you had more courage. At least they got condensed air sometimes, for flying.
11:30 Lunch. Nurse shift change. Meds. The new afternoon shift nurses were usually the most laid-back ones, so they sometimes got a couple of extra minutes before
1:00: Group. Again. The Ward was a month-long program that Nomi had been in for three. She remembered all of the days just fine.
2:00: Quiet time. Stare into the void. Look at other rocks and wonder about their contents. The nurses had to sleep somewhere, right? There was a medical school somewhere around here. Null-G weight loss surgery had gotten popular with the rich folks outside, and this was the only place to learn it- or had it done. Look for the sun. It was pretty far away at this point, and most days the ward wasn’t on the outside of the complex anyway.
3:00 The Park again. Longing for the outside. Legally, they couldn’t keep her here, but where was she gonna go? Her parents kicked her out. Her friends kicked her out.
4:30: Shift change. The evening nurses were mostly kind of hardasses, but Jake brought movies sometimes.
5:00 Group. Again. Usually, she spent group time reading or writing.
7:00 Dinner. Night meds. Talking about feelings.
8:30: Free time. Board games were easier than you’d think in null-g, but magnetic boards were still a must, especially for games like four-in-a-row.
10:00 Lights out.
Wake up. Breakfast. Group. Lunch. Group. Dinner. Lights out. Wake up. Breakfast. Group. Lunch. Group. Dinner. Lights Out. Wake up
6:01
“Gooooooooooood morning, Rochester Clinic!” cried Jeddy. Nomi bolted awake, her most recent book- A Waxing Moon- still floating open near her pillow. She didn’t actually know when she fell asleep- the digital clock in her room had no backlight. One, maybe? Waxing Moon was an alternate-history story where the Phobos of 2498 was sent back to March 17th 1998, and, cut off from galactic supply lines, they had to negotiate with William Clinton and Micheal Gorbashov to end the Third World War and start the Accord early. It was fascinating, if a tad nationalistic, and Nomi felt like she was learning a lot about the war- how scary it was to suddenly be capable of species-wide destruction- but she somehow felt like the author had odious opinions about the Red Planet’s Burden (Mars was never solely responsible for the development of new colonies!) and the passage she was currently reading– “That was M.O.D.M, by Phylite Parlor Trick, off of their eponymous album,” said Jeddy. “Giant Bomb by Aliza before that. Good morning Roch, iiiiiiit’s 6:10 A.M. ooon March 12th, year of Twenty-Five Fourty-Eight, and we’ve got a nnice little morning show for you today…”
Wait, she loved that song. fuck. Stroidcore was usually a little out of Jeddy’s wheelhouse, but he famously loved the 2460s so it wasn’t that surprising to pull out Phylite Parlor Trick.
“It’s the end of Ramadan today, I’m told…” crackled the radio idly, and Nomi took a deep breath. She unbuckled herself from her bed and untangled herself from her sheets, then grabbed the wall’s railing and threw herself towards the bathroom. After a quick trip to the hose (Both ends. Don’t ask), she pulled herself to the mirror and began to shave- a futile exercise, since the Clinic did not, as a rule, change patients’ gender markers. When she was satisfied, she brushed her teeth (second day in a row! she was so good at taking care of herself.) and finally used a wall-mounted hose to suck up the whiskers and suds.
“Joshua?” called a nurse from the door. He hadn’t knocked. “You in the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” said Nomi. “Just waking up. Please remember I want to be called Nomi?”
“I’m sorry, Nomi,” said the nurse. He was new. Grandfatherly. He hadn’t knocked. “Breakfast is in about thirty minutes, okay?”
“Yeah,” said Nomi. “Okay.”
The nurse closed the door.
7:10
Nomi opened the door. She regretted her choice to float around her room when reading– it let her get immersed easier, but it also meant she was stuck midair for a few precious minutes. Breakfast strictly went away at 8. She decided to compensate by throwing herself down the hallway rather than pulling- the Ward maintained a consistent down for convenience, so she couldn’t fall into her seat.like at home, but if she turned midair- yes! She landed feet-first on the common room’s far wall, near the entrance-slash-exit doors. She glanced at the poster taped to it- a measurement of the distance between this door and the entrance to the Park on the other side of the hall. Inmates were allowed to pace the halls using rubber ropes, so there was a world where knowing exactly what fraction of a mile the distance was might have mattered, but… Well, they had treadmills for exercise and arms for pacing.
Breakfast was nice that day. Food was always nice. She had forgotten what she had ordered for that day’s breakfast- whole wheat cereal, a tube of milk, and a thawed strawberry. She had sat next to Brook, from a planet called Sunny Shores, who was talking to Kiara, who was from the local system, like Nomi. Brooke was tall and vanilla-coloured and very blonde, while Kiara was short and brown with dark hair, and they were an odd sight in the Park- fond of standing on opposite walls and throwing beanbags at each other until the nurses told them to knock it off before something else got knocked off. It was all in good fun, probably– the two women were each other’s staunchest allies inside.
“Do you think they’ll let us play Bags today?” Brooke was asking, her mouth half full of dry fruit.
“Nah,” said Kiara. “They too afraid of us.”
“Boo,” said Brooke after a swallow. “Thumbs down.”
7:22
The front door opened. One of the nurses pulled herself through, followed by an ashy woman in normal clothes, not the Ward’s uniform. The patient’s tears hung in the air like planets, each its own little blue marble. Nomi watched they were slowly but surely blown into the vents, never to be seen again, and despaired.
7:30
“Good morning! I’ll be collecting your papers shortly,” said the thin nurse. “How are you feeling this morning? Pat?”
“Uhh… I’m happy, um, tired…”
Nomi tuned them out. In Waxing Moon, one of the side characters, Monica, had gotten ahold of Martian technology and was working against Will, Mike, and the Martians.
“Well, like, I still just wanna get out of here, right,” Kiara was saying, and Nomi tuned back in. “But I put in my application for that outpatient mental health place on Nyrina a couple of weeks ago and I still haven’t heard back, so I was wondering if I could talk to the social worker today?”
“That’s- that sucks. I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “The social worker is out again. Let me see what I can do.” He wrote something down on his clipboard. “Nomi?”
“I’m tired. I want to leave,” said Nomi.
“The next outbound shuttle to your home planet is in a couple of days,” the nurse said, which was news to Nomi. Finally.
8:00
It was really convenient for nature to invent magnets. It made board games so much easier in null. Nomi took her morning pills and went back to her game.
“Rummy,” Momma said.
“Momma,” pleaded Nomi. “What are you doing here? You weren’t here.”
The Affini should not have fit in the cramped corridors of the Ward. Kiara and Brooke were playing like the giant, loose, shambling mass of vines hadn’t replaced whoever the fourth was.
“I’m sorry, baby,” said Momma. “You can’t remember farther than this.”
“Why not?” pouted Nomi. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“No you’re not,” said Kiara.
“We all know,” said Brooke.
“...What?” squeaked Nomi. “Momma, what’s happening?”
Momma gagged her with a firm shush. “It’s okay, baby. Just wake up, now.
“Wake up,
baby,”
Momma was saying. Your world was beautiful, and your world was your Momma, and your world was squishy and wet, and your world was your Momma. When had your Momma gotten here? You were squishy, and warm, and wet, and cold. And dry. And warm. When had Momma gotten here?”
“I don’t leave, baby,” she reminded you. You said that out loud. “You with me all the time.”
That’s right. Momma had been with you all day. How long had you been awake? Momma knew.
“Momma, axe you question?” you asked.
“Axe away, baby,” Momma said. She was warm. You
forgot. Your world was warm. And beautiful. Your Momma was in front of you. You forgot how to feel your body. You tried to wiggle, but nothing happened
“Sorry, what was we just dancin’ ‘bout?” You asked. “You’re beautiful. You’re my Momma, right?”
“I’m your Momma,” Momma said. “And you’re my baby.”
“Okay,” you said. “My face hurts from smiling.”
She looked very sad. She didn’t have a face. Why did she look sad? Did someone say something? Was someone mean to her?
“Who made you sad?” you asked. “I’ll fight them.”
“I know, my little knight,” Momma said, and the world was green, and shafts of light, and soundless rhythm that felt like love and home and everything good.
You fell asleep.
6:01
“Gooooooooooood morning, Rochester Clinic!” cried Jeddy. Nomi bolted awake, her most recent book- A Waxing Moon- still floating open near her pillow. She had put the alternate-history story down at about nine-thirty, so she couldn’t’ve been asleep later than ten. Waxing Moon was fascinating, if a tad nationalistic, and Nomi felt like she was learning a lot about the late 20th century. She jammed to the D.J.’s morning music– Recently, he had been exploring Stroidcore, one of her favorite genre. It was usually a little out of Jeddy’s wheelhouse, but he famously loved the 2460s so it wasn’t that surprising to pull out Phylite Parlor Trick.
“It’s the end of Ramadan today, I’m told…” Jedidiah mused idly, and Nomi took a deep breath. She unbuckled herself from her bed and untangled herself from her sheets, then grabbed the wall’s railing and threw herself towards the bathroom. After a quick trip to the hose (Both ends. Don’t ask), she pulled herself to the mirror and began to check her face. No hair, as usual. When she was satisfied, she brushed her teeth (she was such a good girl.) and finally used a wall-mounted hose to suck up the suds.
A knock on the door.
“Nomi?” called a nurse. Grandfatherly and new, he was a bit light to be her pappy, but he was still kind. “You in the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” said Nomi. “Just waking up.
“Breakfast is in about thirty minutes, okay?”
“Yeah,” said Nomi. “Okay.”
6:58
Nomi opened the door. She would be at breakfast on time, like every day. She launched herself, and landed feet-first on the common room’s far wall, near the entrance-slash-exit doors.
Breakfast was the best that day.
She had forgotten what she had ordered for that day’s breakfast- whole wheat cereal, a tube of milk, and a thawed strawberry. She had sat next to Brook, from a planet called Sunny Shores, who was talking to Kiara, who was from the local system, like Nomi. Brooke was tall and vanilla-coloured and very blonde, while Kiara was short and brown with dark hair, and they were an odd sight in the Park- fond of standing on opposite walls and throwing beanbags at each other until the nurses told them to knock it off before something else got knocked off. It was all in good fun, probably– the two women were each other’s staunchest allies inside.
“Do you think they’ll let us play Bags today?” Brooke was asking, her mouth half full of dry fruit.
“Nah,” said Kiara. “They too afraid of us.”
“Boo,” said Brooke after a swallow. “Thumbs down.”
7:22
The front door opened. One of the nurses pulled herself through, followed by an ashy woman in normal clothes, not the Ward’s uniform. The patient’s tears hung in the air like planets, each its own little blue marble. She was beautiful, and she was familiar. and she was having the worst day of her life. Nomi made a mental note to comfort her.
7:30
“Good morning! I’ll be collecting your papers shortly,” said the thin nurse. “How are you feeling this morning? Pat?”
“Uhh… I’m happy, um, tired…”
Nomi tuned them out. In Waxing Moon, one of the side characters, Sasiflora, had just domesticated Bill, and he was learning about collectivism. Something went wrong with his body mods. The Affini couldn’t fix him. Ultimately, they put him down, like you.
“Well, like, I still just wanna get out of here, right,” Kiara was saying, and Nomi tuned back in. “But I put in my application for that outpatient mental health place on Nyrina a couple of weeks ago and I still haven’t heard back, so I was wondering if I could talk to the social worker today?”
“That’s- that sucks. I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “The social worker is out again. Let me see what I can do.” He wrote something down on his clipboard. “Nomi?”
“I’m tired. I want to leave,” said Nomi.
“The next outbound shuttle to your home planet is in a couple of days,” the nurse said, which was news to Nomi. Finally.
8:00
“The reconstructive mnemonic architecture is not ready yet,” Momma said, the feeling of her voice against every inch of your skin. Kiara and Brooke were playing like Nomi wasn’t inside of a giant plant.
“I’m not sure she’s ready to come off of her class O regimen.”
“Rummy,” Nomi said.
“Fuck off,” Kiara said, laughing.
“Would anyone like to exercise?” asked the grandfatherly nurse. “Kiara? Nomi?”
“I’m good,” said Kiara.
“Sure,” said Nomi. Every single part of her was on fire, like every day, but she had seen something in the Park the previous evening, and she wanted to confirm.
Why was every part of you on fire? Why was every part of you on fire? Why was every part of you on fire?
“She’s in pain,” cried Momma from the outside of you. You went numb again. “No, no baby, I’m here.”
“She’s gonna be in pain,” said a warm chorus. “We knew that.”
“I promised that she wouldn’t,” said Momma. “It can’t be today.”
“Rummy,” you mumble, and your world was suddenly bright, and full of hands, and good pats. Lots of good pats. Your world was beautiful, because it was Momma.
“It has to happen today,” said Doctor. “Or it won’t happen. She’s already resurfacing. Putting her under again would destroy whatever is left.”
Momma hesitated. “Fine,” she said. “Please take care of my baby girl.”
“Momma?” you ask. She called you. Doctor stopped petting you. Your world was beautiful and Momma was beautiful and you were so happy to be here with her. “You’re beautiful,” you told the ball of vines. “Are you an alien?”
“I’m your Momma,” she said. That was right. She was your Momma.