I was thirsty, I had to pee, and I was locked inside a coffin made of black holes. There was absolutely no reason to panic.
Of course I panicked.
I dozed off (somehow), woke to utter darkness, lifted my hand to check if my eyes were open, banged my elbow against the side of the Box — and succumbed to primal terror. Flailing sideways, up-and down, thrashing against solid walls, filling my lungs for a bloody-murder scream! Until a thought hit me, stopping my frenzy cold.
Carl said there would be plenty of oxygen, but had he considered the possibility of me hyperventilating? What if I used up all the air?
I swallowed my scream, closed my eyes against the dark, and considered my life choices.
“If you could skip across time like a stone across water, leaving the past behind, would you do it?” That was the question I used to ask my students. I’d always known my own answer, and here I was, leaving my past behind with a vengeance. But had it really been so terrible? There was a lot I was going to miss. All the people I’d never see again. My father.
I snapped my eyes open and strained my senses to find any trace of light or sound, but there were no external distractions. Time for some think-singing. Three blind mice, see how they run… At least the annoying whine was gone, and I could hold a mental tune again. Before, it was like being swarmed by a million mosquitoes.
Wait.
The whine was gone?
A rectangle of light blazed down on me as the Box lid lifted on its hydraulic hinge. I sat up, slowly.
“I vant – to drink – your blood…”
No audience. Bummer. My Transylvanian accent was spot-on. I looked around. The room was empty, except for a small, orange light blinking in the corner. The intercom!
“Hello? Bitte? This is Beatrice Kairos in Vault 2142. I could use some fresh air.” My left temple throbbed. “And coffee. I haven’t had a cup of coffee in fifty years.”