bismillah

"Maybe you can be one of my little ducklings following me around. I do still miss my flock, but I'm happy to start trying to build a new one."

The offer of helping her in her pursuit of making this island more empathetic towards each other made her eyes widen in glee. Selin didn't know how much they could do to fix the lack of care people had for others, but even though Zaid didn't fully agree with her, he still had her back. But the follow up of his inquiry about needing a reminder of her last name felt both out of the blue but also on brand for Zaid. Throwing her for a loop, making her feel important enough to help her, but not important enough to remember her full name. Was it intentional or maybe a subconscious mind game he played to remind people not to get too attached.

"Bulut. Not that it's all that important to know. I don't expect you to be calling me by anything other than my first name. Unless you're trying to downgrade me from being on a first name basis with you, Mr. Shair."

The opening of the music room cut off any playfulness she was feeling, trying her best to navigate the situation properly. To her it felt like he must have been witnessing a betrayal. Not that Selin had stated outright whether or not she was choosing sides in this relationship, but after all of her attempts to keep Zaid's spirits up, working on this library and dragging him to witness it, only for her to have a room (partially) decorated by his ex? She wouldn't blame him for being unnerved by it.

"He might…" she answered softly to his definitive statement that Tej would not be returning to finish the mural. How did she know? Zaid probably knew Tej better than anyone. Selin had hoped that Lokni might have insight into whether Tej would come to finish what he started, or to help in other artistic endeavors, but she also felt like Lokni was as optimistic as she was, and wouldn't want to disappoint her with the truth if he wasn't.

"I assumed a commission for something he wasn't passion about would be more of a hindrance, so I told him he could do whatever he wanted. Thinking that would help more. But it's been a while since he came back to work on it." It was almost embarrassing, her optimism versus Zaid's realism, those seemed to always be at odds. But a little of his own optimism came out in a way, suggesting the two of them finish up the mural instead. "Really? Are you sure? It's not a big deal, really, and I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing." She tried to wave off, not wanting to either inconvenience him or make him feel obligated to pick up where Tej left off.

Bulut. Zaid didn't even notice how he might've thrown Selin a bit off with demanding her last name, like he was entitled to it. He was currently in his little fantasy world, thinking about how Selin contributed to altruism, and how he could coast in her drift. Maybe he was getting to recluse, and maybe, just maybe, it was getting a little boring. Besides, as selfish as his motives were, it was still win-win in the end. Not everyone could be internally generous and kind like Miss Selin Bulut. But she needed people to help her with her lofty, kind-hearted goals, whatever their motives.

"I'd say 'Chef' is better than 'Mr Shair', but. Haven't really been doing much cooking lately, have I." Zaid shook his head ruefully. "Seems like we're all just sort of scrambling to decide how to be...useful."

Blessed Selin. Without him prompting or demanding, the sweet girl simply provided more tea on Tej and his artistic ways. "Oh, I'm sure he made it very obvious that he was doing you a huge favour by lending his talents to brighten your little library, darling." Snarky comment done, Zaid then sobered up slightly as he studied the paint strokes, the half-done swirls, the abandoned shapes. "As far as I know, Tej Virani hasn't taken brush to canvas in....months. Over a year, even. Since...since New York. So."

Zaid (they should saint him for this, really), turned to Selin with a kind smile. "Your mural project almost brought the artist in him back. That's progress, love." A reassuring squeeze of her shoulder was probably pushing it, so Zaid refrained.

Instead, he was truly delighted that Selin didn't protest to them finishing the mural together. What would Tej think. What would he think to see his abandoned art completed by Zaid. Likely nothing, but even nothing was better than...

Well. Anyway.

"Don't worry, we'll adapt. We won't paint over any of his...erm, masterpiece. Just append it, yeah? You're creative, I'm creative. It'll just come to us."

He looked over at Selin. "Suppose you were right. I did need to get out of that bloody tower. But...those camera feeds, Selin. You cannot tell me you've got no interest in - in - in watching. Watching this island."

(Later, with the story relayed to Zaid, he was given distracted feedback: 'Rinpoche Wotsit doesn't know about us, love.' Tej's interest in Tibetan Buddhism lasted as long as any other spiritual forays did. Enough to stress Zaid and provide brief inspiration for Tej.)

"Safe as anything else around here," he replied to new queries. "I've never had help before. Don't want it now." Yes, all had been dissolved. Them. (Him.) Beholden to no one but himself. (Him! Self!)

But we don't do that anymore. Words filled with nettles and bones. The bristling began at the back of his neck. Draped over the shoulders, carved a short-lived bitter grin on his face. Alright. Fine, fucking fine. Enlightenment still out of reach, because even through the haze, that bit a little.

"Not meeting your standards today, chef? How's it supposed to be then." A deep breath, to return to the walking meditative state. A repair of the protective pane of glass Zaid lobbed a rock through.

And when Zaid said he'd done enough to piss Tej off... Tej felt a little resentful. What an act! And SO many snipes piled up for Tej to say! Yet they were absorbed by the fog. Best way to describe it. Foggy brain, foggy vision.

He liked being lost too. If it wasn't for Zaid bothering... Tej might drift away for good.

Don't let Zaid get to you. He wants a fight, remember? A voice whispered. Not entirely his own. He huffed quietly, and murmured under his breath. "Yeah, right." Less a reply to Zaid, more to... this thought.

Tej scanned over the hideously tall sculpture as Zaid talked about the ones who came out of the woods. Tej peeled a loose piece of plastic off the tower. A cut out shape with an opening in the middle, a one inch iridescent flower shape that fidgeted in his fingers. "Paradise..." He lacked the energy to scoff, but Zaid probably knew one meant to end the sentence. Tej held the flower up and squinted to peer through it with one eye. "They remember. We don't. What's the significance there. " A pause. "They been hiding out for how long. Spying on us the whole time, hm? Why'd they wait 'til now to show their faces."

Did it even matter? Probably not. (When you've lost everything, does anything matter anymore?)

Tej picked and adjusted the tower. Not unlike the way he once fussed over a winkle or piece of cat hair on one of Zaid's sweaters. He made it more presentable. Zaid talked about his own spot. (The main tower, which Tej didn't even question.) He nodded politely over the positive of Zaid being able to sleep. The whole situation weird as hell. Zaid never fond of being alone, and yet decided to wander around that wretched place! Insanity! Zaid chose to tend a mausoleum as a final resting place. Where they almost--

"I live with Lokni." Admittedly, it could've been described better. Elaborated on. But. Ehhh. The mind-fog also made the perfect alibi to say as little as possible.

Oh, Zaid. If only things might be different. They won't be, the wind ushered to his ear. The voice so close to his, Tej mistook it for his own thoughts. (When Zaid left, his scent would linger at least.)

It was always angel. And Zaid was Zed, or Z. Or any number of pet names developed over the years. Some simple, others X-rated. Rarely, Zaid said baby. More to mend lighter transgressions. And he was used to Zaid clinging by his nails to a conversation when Tej gave the silent treatment, but. This 'baby' caused the phsst of the spray can to pause for a second.

Any other visits?

"It's not my shadow-man." The my should've been leaned heavily on, but it didn't happen. It all came out unnervingly hollow, even to Tej. Any and all ghastly emotions about what happened on the 'main tower' avoided sticking to the words. More waited to be said. For a moment, a closed mouth kept the silence.

Tej tossed the spraycan back into the tub with the rest. He turned from his work, finally, to face Zaid.

"Oh." A subtle smile as Tej circled back to something. Negligible at first, with Zaid being the only person ever equipped to recognize it. The emotion lived mostly at the center of Tej's lips. The hesitance of faked innocence when you know you're about to say something absolutely wicked. "I looked at your contract."

Bravely (Zaid thought), Zaid smiled and nodded. "No, of course, how silly of me. To think Tej Virani needed any help in anything, ever." Zaid inclined his head, a noble, gracious bow. "My mistake, as always."

Okay, so. A little passive-aggressive, that. A little snarky. Fucking hell, Zaid was trying hard to be better, wiser, kinder even. But Tej made it so difficult. The mere sight of Tej -so gloriously sullen and beautifully hostile - all Zaid wanted to do was be stupid, fractious, thirsty. A pulling, dragging instinct, to swallow this poor forsaken man. (Swallow his poor forsaken man. Tej was his.)

No, he wasn't.

Zaid startled as if the retort was whispered directly to him. He stared up at Tej's Tower with a newfound confusion. The main Tower's paranoid tendrils reached through Zaid's veins, the entire reason he'd come here. Because he saw Tej's tower on the camera feeds. Something about this was wrong, terribly wrong.

Tej's words pulled Zaid back from the engulfing fear, the use of 'chef' like a hook around Zaid's waist. For a moment he could hear the clatter of pots, the sear and sizzle of meat and veg under heat. He missed it. He missed it so much. He couldn't let Tej know that.

"I miss it so much." The words tumbled out anyway, like a sigh. Tej invertedly opened the door to nostalgia. "I miss home, I miss the restaurant." There was only one: Mango, in London. "I miss..." Her. You.

A lid over a pot fire, and everything snuffed out again between him and Tej. They were here, living separated from each other. Zaid was suffused with a sudden grief he couldn't explain. Was this how Tej always felt? This sense of constant, unerring loss, woven throughout his life, tucked into the crevices and twisted into itself, the way Tej twisted trash into art? Did Tej always expect he'd lose Zaid, too?

Tej, blessed Tej, talked about the newcomers. Rosey and the other one. Gently feeding Zaid's paranoia. "Spying? Two old-timers, spying? There's enough spying with the bloody CCTV and the bloody monitors in the Tower, love. I believe Rosey King's story...somewhat. They haven't done anything to cause friction." A pause, then a conceding sigh. "Not yet."

Another heavy sigh, like the weight of the world lay on Zaid's shoulders. "Besides, what's there to be done about it, anyway. You won't be affected by any of it, after all. And me..." Zaid shrugged, in a 'comme ci, comme ça' way. "Lindiwe can deal with them on an official capacity. She's more than capable, she is."

Zaid watched Tej return to working on his art. The master at his craft, even if this craft was especially disturbing, and the situation was currently horrendous. But Zaid had loved sneaking into Tej's studio, quiet and unobtrusive. Just to watch Tej work. For once, not to distract Tej, demand Tej's attention. Just...bask in the beauty of artistry. Tej himself, a work of art. Zaid told him that, often enough. Once upon a time.

Lokni. Zaid squinted in surprise. Then he laughed, suddenly. "Oh, I see. Skiving off Lokni's hard work at being a lone survivor, then, is it? And what exactly do you contribute to Lokni's ranch-hand self-sufficiency, ey? Bloke's lived most his life in the rough, he can build homesteads, make kitchen gardens, hunt and gather food and provide all the comforts of off-the-grid life, yeah? And you, what. You help out? Tej, the helper?" Zaid barked another laugh, an imagined Tej-and-Lokni carousel playing in his head. "You loved cleaning staff, and Uber Black, and laundry service! You loved it."

The amusement (and reassurance; Lokni was as straight as an arrow, Zaid was sure of it. Tej often made the cheeky, delightful boast that he could bend anyone, but. Not Lokni. Tej was too clever to risk fucking it up with Lokni) was short-lived, when Tej boldly spoke it out loud. The entity that split them apart with such ferocious finality.

The shadow-man. Zaid's mouth went dry, his eyes fuzzed over temporarily. A spike of panic, that's all it was. But suddenly Zaid wanted nothing more than to flee, run back into the safety of the main Tower. The scene of the crime, ostensibly; but in Zaid's mind, the safest place to be, because it happened there. The shadow-man, the attack, the cruelty of it all. Here out in the open with Tej and his fucked-up Tower sculpture felt vulnerable.

Throat all dried up, Zaid could only manage to croak out, "Your shadow-man? Tej....why..." Why would he say it like that. Why would he take ownership of that monstrous thing. Why did he want to.

Did Tej want to threaten Zaid? The thought had never occurred to Zaid, and it made him even more afraid. Not just a threat around them but...the threat of Tej himself? "Why would you say that? It's not you, Tej. That...thing wasn't yours."

When Tej turned to face him again, finally, the smile on his face was a smug, rictus curl. Tej's marble-carved face flittering with shadows, mostly cast by the Tower behind him. Zaid felt his molecules restructuring, energy gathering - instinctive, as if he was gearing for a fight. Insanity. Ridiculous! Zaid abhorred violence. He didn't want to fight anyone. It was just Tej. It was only his Tej.

Tej, who'd shamelessly read Zaid's contract. It felt like the ground had opened up, and Zaid was falling down, stomach flipping inside him, blood rushing in his ears. He grit his teeth to control his powers; he could do that, now. Zaid struggled to remain calm. Say something witty and dismissive! Act like it didn't matter. Don't show him anything, not anymore. Tej wasn't allowed, not anymore.

Tej shut down the memory. Exchanged it for a thought. Once the towering build reached the highest heights, perhaps a light of adoration might shine down from the top. The contentment melting away the ice he'd been frozen alive in.

Zaid's viewpoint sounded like a rumble of thunder neutralized by the distance between them. Zaid almost always found Tej in the art. If not grasping the point, he'd pinpoint the artist in a tiny splatter of paint or faint trace of charcoal. "Mm," he hummed. Nodded. Hated to say Zaid was off course this time. (What does it mean?)

You doing alright, love? "Fine." A longer pause than necessary. "You?"

"Been building this for, dunno. Weeks." More like months, probably. Of course, Tej collected things as soon as he arrived. Just in his nature to see a rock, a leaf, an old coin, a funny little figurine on the ground... and pocket it. Same happened here.

A fleeting, fraction of a second frown between the brows. Tej was unable to remember when the building started. A stomach-dropping flash of panic splashed across his face, but then relented. "And you didn't see me at all-- come on, Zaid. Come on." Air rushed between his teeth as his gaze followed his ex. Maybe Zaid wasn't as glued to the cameras after all. "I don't believe you."

Then came a verbal stroking, meant to soothe. Darling. The word alone still (aggravatingly enough) held a modicum of power, as no one ever called Tej that. Artist, creative, blah blah blah. Sucked when the enemy knew you better than anyone.

Even so, an old tenderness eased, comforted somewhat. Well, until the personnel folder bit. Tej's tucked arms dropped loosely. "What." The rush to the tower when folders were discovered. Absolute mayhem, with yellowing papers scattered among rings of teletype and little black and white passport photos.

(One of the last moments Tej remembered with any detail. The sticker on a manila folder tab peeled at up at one edge. The V in his name seated higher than the other typed letters. This was later. Because once he heard about the files, Tej made a beeline for the stack of S surnames first.)

His chin tipped up. "Personnel folder. What are you, human resources? The hell." A scoff, a rake of a hand through his hair. "What exactly about this piece screams personnel folder to you?" A click of his tongue, a bit more energy in the question. "You looked through mine, didn't you?" Projection much? Not Tej, no never.

"Really..." An actor? Dark brows rose, then fell. Tej tugged at his bottom lip, lost in thought. Mainly how, in the most domestic of scenes, they'd start a movie at opposite ends of the couch. Five minutes in, they'd be sandwiched in the middle, together.

"The sisters." Does it matter? This snipe was dragged back. "Yeah. Maybe we saw it. Can't remember." They had, Tej knew for certain. "How've they been out there so long? Why, even." Would it happen to them too? "Why'd they come back. Did she tell you anything that might help." Brain shut down, Tej hadn't paid too much attention.

Another half-scoff, half amused sound. "Bloody trick. Well, we signed up for the magic show, didn't we." He lingered over Zaid. Not to note how much Zaid's healthy shape and skin was altered by sulking around a dark tower. Or even to remember what Zaid's weight felt in Tej's arms, bumping into him. Brushing by, on top or under him.

His eyes scoured the corners of Zaid because Tej knew. Tej knew why Zaid was there. God damned bastard.

Tej walked close to his tower. His finger pushed at a plastic water bottle cap. He breathed through his nose, exhaled loud. "Don't trust them, yeah. Won't stop anyone from getting info out of them. I mean. They pissed off Dr. Pansexual, Captain Hook, whatever dumbass names they go by." For real. Okay, maybe Hook seemed reasonable. But Dr. Pan? Fake ass bitches.

"Ask. Delve." Used to be an inside joke. Delve, Tej! The corner of his mouth curled for a moment, but then seriously: "Make yourself useful." Now, in his opinion, Tej was the more sociable. Likable, in the way one moved through a crowded room and could mingle with many in five minute increments. Whatever it took to get from the door to the bar area.

Tej's partner, er. Former partner. Was often texting in a hallway, unapproachable. Eyebrows drawn tight and worrisome together, which was when he looked most handsome. Shouting down a new line cook on the phone at one of Tej's exhibits. At least, in the early days when Zaid actually went to Tej's art shows. Aggressively Chef Zaid, Tej loved that shit more than anything...

The 'tower' caught Tej's attention again. Some of the oomph went out of his voice. Brown eyes turned up to the vertical landscape of junk. His features flattened. "Or, ah." Muscles tensed. "I'm worried about you. How much sleep you getting." Jaw clenched. Eyes still looked up rather on Zaid. Tej's voice fell into a calm sea again, no real emotion roiled through it.

More monosyllabic responses. These, at least, had a different effect on Zaid's instincts. Where 'mm' was insouciant, Tej's strained politeness made Zaid want to cajole, play. Bury his fingers in Tej's supple muscles, bury sweet words into Tej's relenting mouth. Again, this was the old Zaid. Or so Zaid reminded himself. So, again, he gave a sharp, small smile, and replied with, "I'm fine as well."

Even Zaid thought the building of this art installation seemed more like months, unless Tej had help. A spike of roughshod jealousy that Zaid forcibly tamped down, to ask, "Building this all by yourself? Seems...unsafe. Did you have help?"

Accusations, old remnants of old arguments, but...from when? How far back? Could Zaid pinpoint the moment, the year, the month, the day that he stopped 'seeing' Tej? Where was Tej right now, in his memories? For all that Tej urged him, Zaid had to respond, "But we don't do that anymore, love." Zaid didn't need to 'come on', not after months of absolute silence.

"Even when we'd - we ended things in New York, it wasn't like this." After Inika's funeral, Zaid had still found ways to keep account of Tej. Through Tej's friends, or social media, or drunk phone calls at night. But these past months was a true moratorium. Seeing Tej again, actually talking to him....it was like tasting a burst of emotions, but only sense prevailed: it was mouth-watering.

If Tej didn't believe Zaid, he merely shrugged. So be it. Tej wasn't obligated to, and Zaid didn't need to convince him. The loss of that tether was palpable, pulpy like a bruise.

Tej reacted erratically (more so than his usual artistic impulses) and Zaid wasn't sure what to make of it. The brittle tone in his usually modulated voice. The constant rake of his slender fingers through his unruly hair. But a question that Zaid could answer. "No. No, I didn't look through your contract. I reckoned you'd be pissed if I did. Also reckon I've done enough to piss you off." Zaid was pleased with his answer. Noble, moral, new Zaid. Respectful Zaid. Owning up to his errors Zaid. Not seeking pity Zaid. New Zaid.

So why did 'new Zaid' feel so false, around his beautiful, feverish, nonsensical Tej?

Zaid was nearly driven to distraction, watching Tej tug thoughtfully at his lower lip, a sudden, desperate surging need be those fingers. Be the teeth, nipping Tej's bottom lip, feeling that rush of warm, piqued breath, sweet and smoky and intoxicating.

Smoky. Like that...dark shadow. The smokey spectre that nearly killed them, if Tej hadn't tried first.

"Um. Erm." Zaid cleared his throat, struggling to maintain composure. It felt like Tej's tower was bearing down on him, reading his thoughts. Judging, laughing. Rosey King, right. "Seems they signed their own contracts with FLOWR. Only they remember doing it. Considered this place a paradise. Reckoned their experiment was a good thing, until it all went wrong. They were attacked by them bloody hornets, too."

Tej responded with, of all things, paranoia. Clipped instructions not to trust them, not to trust anyone. Coupled with entreaties to investigate, an added derisive snark, a remnant of an old joke. A final warning. Like a lecture in a kitchen from a master chef. Only there was little discipline in the Tej that Zaid knew. Only dark whimsy and freestyle excitement, impulse on tap. Tej, his electric jumpstart, once upon a time. Now though...this unfocused focus, this intensity....it was familiar, but not.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Zaid persisted. (New Zaid, remember? He was above all petty things). He was about to continue, but Tej beat him to it, voicing worry and concern. Zaid sputtered. He wanted to say it first, dammit! He wanted to tell Tej, in a calm, gentle tone: I'm worried about you.

But Tej got there first, and Zaid just blustered. "I'm sleeping. There's beds in the main Tower - " (Why did he call it the 'main' Tower? Was Tej's Tower permanent now.). "I live there now. And you - you live...where? Not back in that bungalow. Not in the warehouse." Like a weirdo. Such a public space to choose to bed in; public-use yet one floor up from the shelving and stock below. Tej, his pretty space oddity.

Tej picked up the spray can, and his tone changed yet again. Politely distant, the clear call of 'tying the conversation up'. It was insulting, but understandable. It was Zaid's job to keep them talking. When Tej fell into a snit, Zaid would pet and murmur and linger and plead and kiss. At least, that used to happen when their relationship was good. In New York, Tej's snits were often left ignored. Zaid walked away, citing he 'had no time for Tej's little fits'. Or, Zaid wasn't even there in the first place, to know it.

"Tej, baby," Zaid started, then remembered that was far too intimate for them now. He cast about for something to say. The offer to feed Tej was tempting, but instead Zaid found himself asking: "Any other visits, since? From your shadow-man."

Maybe it was a sense of justice within her, but Zaid's sarcastic remark about telling people to get some empathy upset her. Not at him, but the fact that he was right. People didn't care and telling them that they should have empathy and they suddenly would. She inarticulately fumbled over her words, trying to respond only to huff and just say, "well I wish they would. We're stuck in this mess together, and I just want to tell people to care about others. Care about the collective community we have here. We can survive and thrive if we're all looking out for each other, instead of treating it like a last man standing contest." Selin sighed after getting her feelings out, knowing that it was too much to ask, too much to hope for. But it would be nice if they could make it work nonetheless.

She chose to focus on what she could and did accomplish. The library was something she had control over around here, even if she couldn't control people and their actions. For a moment, as Zaid complimented the work she did, she wanted to give him a piece of the accomplishment, but she refrained from saying anything. He surely would have thought it rang hollow. Offering him pity by including him as any major help in this.

In her attempts to think of what to say to him, something that didn't sound patronizing, he found himself drifting towards the one room she didn't want him to go into. "Oh, wait‐!" Selin tried to call out but he was already looking around at the space, eyeing that incomplete mural by Tej. "Um...I'm not sure." Selin answered as she walked over and poked her head into the room.

Instead, her reply was pragmatic, big-picture. An agreement that 'somebody's got to do it', and that somebody was Zaid, self-volunteered. And Zaid didn't realize how much he would appreciate hearing that from someone else, until this moment. "You're an odd little duck," he murmured. "But bloody well respectable duck, you are."

A small, appreciative laugh at Selin's disapproving outlook. "Rosey King is alright. I don't reckon she's got any love for FLOWR and that. She's even got her husband here, apparently. All these years surviving. That's all it is, innit. Some bloody wankers who think survival means beating others, not working together." In truth, Zaid didn't care either way. Or rather, he'd made a choice not to care. It was a selfish choice, very much so. It was Selin who was doing the hard labour in all this, not him. She still wanted the best from people and that was a difficult battle.

"I'll help you, any way I can," he decided. Not because he believed in her cause, but Zaid figured he could at least believe in Selin...Selin.... "Oi, what's your last name again?"

His good spirits came crashing into a middling swirl of desire and indignance, when he saw the half-finished mural, recognized that beautiful, complex style. Selin's words underscoring a loud, high buzz in his other ear, like a mechanized hornet. Or a kazoo that Inika loved singing into at 4:00am in the morning to wake them up for play.

Nag him. Creative process. He'll come back.

Zaid shook his head. "No....no. He won't come back." Zaid turned physically away from the mural, to stare directly at Selin. Doing so took a feat of strength, in his opinion. "He won't finish it."

Maybe.

Maybe? A crooked smile slid across Zaid's face.

"How about you and I finish it? Yeah. We might not be artistic geniuses like...like - like him of course, but. I've got a bit of talent, and I'm sure Miss Schoolteacher's got some elementary skills with paints and brushes, yeah? Working together and all that. Finish what...finish what he started. Yeah?" His tone a forced buoyant that didn't hide the desperate please in his gaze.

At the mention of her husband, her expression softened, though - she couldn't not smile when Tiago was mentioned. "Tiago, my husband came here with me, yes. And thankfully he survived it all as well, he remained back where we all were for now." And damn it, she missed him. It hasn't even been that long but she missed him - then again, she doubted that it would ever be any other way.

She listened to him talk about what he did and didn't remember and Rosey just could not understand what the point of the memory losses really was - but then again, did she really want to understand how the two assholes' minds worked? Not really. "The point or the pattern might be revealed later - what state is the cruise ship now? Does it still have resources or did you fully empty it out? Is it even approachable still?"

Rosey's spine stiffened at the mention of the grave pit - the assholes even made the robots dig them up. Probably had another reason for it, intimidation and such, but to Rosey it almost felt like the two were preparing the grounds for Rosey and Hana to arrive. To make sure they know where those people are, to drive the pain and the horrors and the trauma even deeper home. "Yeah, they were-- they are the same," she nodded. "And then recently one almost dead washed up on our shores, that was what prompted us to seek out this beach again, see what is actually happening here."

At least the topic shifted rather swiftly with Joshua, and Rosey could practically see the lightbulb be turned on in Zaid's mind, finally jumping into the game and actually getting the wagon. At that point, Rosey stepped back and let him handle the rest - her speaking and pushing it more would not be a smart choice, and really, he got it. She just made a mental note about Lindi keeping inventory - if she couldn't get anything out of Zaid regarding food, she could always go to the woman.

Zaid gave something more edible and usable than cinnamon to the guy, and then they were off, Rosey finally dropping the act as they turned their backs to Joshua and letting out a small chuckle once they were out of earshot. "You're sending me into the forest with cinnamon and then you give him some pudding or whatever that was? Very useful, what can I say," she teased him.

Rosey waved at him, "You figured it out at the end. Not everyone could be as natural at improvising as I am." Even though she was annoyed in the moment, but that wasn't the point. She glanced over her shoulder for a second before she looked back at Zaid. "You say he isn't a bad guy, but he's not going to be happy when he'll see me around the beach in a day or two. Or when he realizes no new food supplies were provided. Should I be prepared that he could get other stupid ideas into his head? Like coming after me?"

Rosey King stayed with him, even though he'd told her that he had nothing to do with the food (had he? Or did he just imagine it in a mental shame spiral?) so Zaid tried to recall the old celebrity speculations of the movie star. So far, the woman didn't seem like the villain that the loudspeaker announcements seemed to imply she was. It really was just another test, this one psychological. To see how the new arrivals would treat the old survivors.

"You might be better off asking an American about all the theories, but. I remember something about Rosey King getting tired of the grind, retiring in some remote place. Erm...something about a sickness in the family. Something about you and some director getting in a row, and you got blacklisted. Oh - and aliens. Aliens took you. Yanks love aliens."

Her husband - Tiago - had come here with Rosey. "He signed up for this too?? Hook and Pan chose the both of you?" Naturally, Zaid's thoughts swung back to himself and Tej. Which wasn't so much an agreement between two loving partners. It was one giving up on life, and the other pathetically, desperately following.

Rosey carried on about the cruise ship, an easier topic. "We've stripped what we could out of it, yeah. The rest is too submerged or dangerous. Anyone can go inside it, but we did lose a person in there, a few months back. Bloke named Anderson. He went in and...never came out."

The hornets were the same. "Bloody hell..." Zaid murmured, then paused to point back towards the woods. "You know there's a pit of old hornet pieces and that as well. Electronic and mechanical rubbish from old hornets. That place is extremely dangerous. Easy to slip into the pit, someone died there, too."

He actually smiled, at Rosey's tease. "Right well...I know Joshua, he gets the biscuits. I don't know you, so. You get cinnamon." Zaid tried to imagine Joshua planning to attack Rosey, and he couldn't But then...he didn't really know Joshua that well, either. "I don't know, love. I'm not the best person to ask. I don't have friends here." He did, though. Zaid did actually make friends, but he dropped them all.

They arrived at the Warehouse, and Zaid opened the door for Rosey. "This place must be familiar to you. Inside we've got the...oh." Zaid stared around at the scantly stocked shelves. "Looks like Joshua wasn't the only one who had the idea of hoarding, innit."

He looked at Rosey. "Looks like you're going to have to prove that usefulness to everyone if you want to remain here, love. Myself included. What did you survive on, out there? What did you eat? If you get food out there, it'll go a long way to reassuring others it's possible, yeah?" Zaid started putting food from the wagon, back on the shelves. "I could come with you. To help and to learn how."

Tej. He'd never heard Zaid say his name so quiet. So remote, a whisper from some distant shore. (But everything sounded similarly now. Far away.)

Zaid declined to jump further into the muck with Tej. A bit of a disappointment, he so preferred to see Zaid's canines sharp and ready. Tej supposed after their debacle at the real tower, it was for the best.

A frown flitted quickly across Tej's face. A few seconds of an expression. "It's parts of this place. All coming together." What could only be described as electronic trash spread on the ground, roots at the base of a tall trunk made up of broken glass, bent arms of deck chairs, signage of a cruise ship. A dismembered hornet prominent throughout. Held together by sand, wiring, plasters of tarp and plastic, woven cords, bright orange polyurethane from a life raft, leaves, tree limbs... like a tornado spun up and carried debris from across the whole of the place and perfectly packed it all vertically on the spot.

"It keeps growing upwards. Gonna have to build scaffolding now." His hand lifted to show the top of the 'tower' now out of reach of his fingertips.

"It's hideous," an anticipation of Zaid's opinion. "I don't care." Because I can't control it. "I want to see it finished." No, no I don't!

Tej dared to glance over at Zaid. After making his acquaintance with a particular type of independence (aka loneliness), he felt a tiny twinge from the past. So very faint, like reverberations of a tsunami crashing on the other side of the world. Zaid's isolation gorgeously worn on the brow and in the hollow under those deep eyes. The corners of a hidden resting smile missing completely, tucked under stubble and new conspiratorial obsessions. Tej felt a barely there pull to kiss a strange patchiness in Zaid's beard, one he'd never noticed before.

If he leaned in for that kiss, could he whisper to Zaid? Do you hear it? Am I crazy?

Instead, he pivoted to fully look at Zaid. Tej crossed his arms over his chest. "Hope that answers things." An attempt to sound genuine, and not like a dick. Tej really couldn't explain it.

"That what you do now. Look at those feeds 24/7." When he heard Zaid stopped with his community cooking, yeah. Not great. "Not worried it was all to get you out here. Away from your tower."

Ironically, it seemed that Zaid's newfound zen didn't sit well with Tej. To the untrained, un-obsessed eye, Tej seemed tranquil, if a little winded from physical toil. From building this...thing. And the sheen of exertion only accentuated his beauty, really. But Zaid sensed (or maybe just read) Tej's own discomfort. What was bothering Tej, Zaid could only guess; but naturally, he assumed it was himself.

Parts of this place, all coming together. Zaid forced himself to actually focus on the constructed horror, take it in. It tickled at his instincts, which were telling him to look away and fight or flight. But it was art; that was what provocative art was supposed to do. And Tej's style was consistently provocative. "This is..." Zaid didn't find the right descriptor, but Tej kept talking about his work-in-progress. And then, his own adjective.

"It's a...project of passion?" Zaid hazarded a guess, trying to engage now that he'd ignored his instincts to flee. He stepped closer, as if Tej was inviting him to analyse. "It's neither good nor bad, that's your intention, yeah? Beauty in ugliness, the ugliness of beauty. All tied into this island, what's happened to us. All of us." Zaid was glad to tear his gaze away from the structure, focus on Tej instead. And this up-close...

No. No, Tej wasn't looking good at all. Zaid frowned.

"You doing alright, love?"

Tej cast a furtive glace at first, then it was like something else took him over entirely. Squarely planting his feet, arms folded, stare direct. So unlike his slippery, mercurial Tej. This Tej switched - controlled the conversation, and spun it back to Zaid.

"I saw this on the feeds, yeah. I didn't realize it were all your doing. Thought maybe it was...their doing." Mr Hook and Dr Pan. "How long've you been building this?" And why did the feeds only show Zaid now? He swiveled, walking slowly around Tej, searching upwards for the angle from the TV, the camera hidden somewhere amongst the rocks and trees.

"You've always been an artist to the core, haven't you darling. Never mind pragmatic things like preparations and survival. Creativity, that's what calls to you." What did your file say? Why did you sign it? Zaid wanted to ask directly, but he was still too cowardly. Back to the passive (aggressive) approach as his twirling led back to the sculpture. His gaze snagged on a sign strategically buried against some stretched orange rubber: WATCH YOUR STEP. "This to do with your personnel folder?"

The new people. The announcement threatening starvation had stopped blaring on repeat about a day ago. Zaid wasn't sure what became of Rosey King and the other one since then. "I met the actress, Rosey King. Remember her films? There was the one with the sisters..." Zaid tried to recall the plot, but only recalled warmth, darkness, the sour aftertaste of smoke from a bong. "Did we watch that together?"

Anyway, the past wasn't relevant to either of them anymore (this was a lie, but Zaid wanted to like it). "Rosey seems alright. I still don't trust them though. The...Dr Pan, that Mr Hook, even with the announcements. It could be a set-up. Another bloody trick."

Maybe if she was actually faced with the decision herself, in the position the others were, she would have kept to her own file as well, but Rosey couldn't have possibly imagined not reading the others' files herself. But she wasn't going to make a comment about it, put herself in a worse light. Instead, she said, "How did that work, by the way? The whole memory loss thing? Like in the movies, you just woke up in the same room, all confused?"

Rosey shook her head. "No, by the end of it, they didn't have any control over the small place where we were. They tried to, though, they sent robots after us to take care of us. But even if they don't have control over that space, it's small, and I couldn't possibly tell you just how much of the rest of the place they have control over, how big it is, or even like you said, if it is an actual island or not. I always just assumed it was."

The smugness that showed on Zaid's face wasn't something that Rosey really felt, but he did bring up an interesting point of view that she hasn't thought of yet. "Maybe. But if that's the case, I don't have a clue what it could be - it just feels like we know how to survive on barely anything, but why would they need that kind of information?"

They could discuss it later, though - they needed to deal with this Joshua guy and him hoarding food first. And for a hot second, Rosey thought it would be so easy - Zaid seemed to have understood what she was trying to do.

Until he didn't.

As for the memory loss, it was something Zaid had tried piecing together himself. "The majority of us woke up on that big scuttled cruise ship, the Odyssey. I don't recall booking a cruise. The last thing I remember was just a regular night after work, taking the train home. Then...I woke up here. It's different for everyone, love."

He perked up as he heard Rosey's own tale. "Robots. Was they hornets, like? Big flying hornet machines? They attacked us too! Or...they attacked the buildings, and generators. And they, erm. Dug up that mass grave pit too. Their queen was destroyed through."

Rosey probably had plenty of questions about that, but Joshua cropped up, and Zaid winced when he realized he'd rather cocked up Rosey's ruse. Not his fault though, he wasn't an actor!

"The wagon," he repeated after Rosey, then it was like a lightbulb ticked on, over his head. "Right, the wagon! Of food! Bloody hell, Joshua! What would Lindi say if she found this missing! You know I still help her take inventory and all, I'd have to report this." That was a part-lie; Zaid had stopped helping Lindi out for months, now. But Joshua didn't know that. "You really don't want to look like that dickhead what starved people and made Lindi's life harder, ey?"

Zaid could at least sense the shame, then conniving shifty eyes of Joshua, as he stood there, deliberating. "And don't even think about trying to banish the both of us. I'm already pulling my weight, darling. You should do the same. Now, off with you. I'll handle this." And quite bravely (Zaid thought of himself), he strode forward and took a hold of the wagon handle, steering it away from Joshua. For pity, Zaid gave him a box of FLOWR custard cremes. "Go home, mate. No one needs to know. And I...I would never let you starve."

Another lie. Or at least, a guilt-laden false promise that Zaid did not want to think about right now.

Thankfully, Joshua just gave Rosey one parting glare, and walked away. Zaid quickly began walking in the other direction. "Fuck me. Sorry, love. I'm not much good at improv like that. Joshua's not a bad bloke, he's just...scared. We all are." Zaid looked at her. "Isn't there some way you could help us?"

There was a chance that Zaid didn't know even though he spent, according to himself, a lot of time in the Tower - which is where Rosey assumed all recordings would be -, but still, she filed it all away as something not available for them. "I haven't talked to her about it yet, but I will, thank you for the suggestion."

At the mention of the personal files, a shudder ran down the back of her spine. "You've got those in the Tower? Did you guys look at them?" There were so many things she wanted to ask, but she kept herself at bay. The easiest way to get answers is to look at them herself - even if the thought itself made her feel sick.

She shook her head, "Where we were, there was a lack of everything, not just a lack of cameras. It was not controlled by them. And we never came back, because we didn't want to die, simple as that. They were-- let's just say, not too happy, that we ran away from them and the experiment we were in the middle of." Rosey actually sounded cool and collected. The basics, she could talk about it almost as if it didn't happen to her, she was just a bystander in everything. And that was about how deep she wanted to get about her time on this beach.

The conversation got disrupted, however, by a guy name Joshua. Well, Zaid yelling at the guy named Joshua, who was apparently hoarding food to his own bungalow. Doing it very badly, might she add.

And Rosey wanted to point out that him stockpiling and stealing the little given food that they all had made things even worse because he was shortening the learning curve on how they can survive on their own, and that even if she disappeared right this second, the food might very well never come back, not to mention that the assholes would just keep blackmailing them with food in the future because they'd know it would work. But none of them would work, not on somebody who - instead of even coming up to her and trying to get rid of her to solve the problem -, actively decided to make things worse.

So instead she gave a quick glance to Zaid and hoped that he'd be able to follow. "Funny you should ask that, because he was doing just that. Convincing me to leave for good."

"But let me guess? It's not working and you cannot wait to watch us all starve?"

"No, actually I--" a calculated glance down before she continued, "I was just about to tell Zaid that I'll be leaving soon." No such thing was happening, but damn it, she was selling it, fully believing it in the moment. Joshua stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her dumbfounded and really, that look was worth the lie, even if they didn't get the food back. But fuck this guy, he was not having any of it.

"Wait, seriously?"

It wasn't about the breach of privacy, it was a glimpse of actual empathy. The sheer humiliation Zaid felt, reading his own reasons for signing up, he simply knew he couldn't handle the second-hand embarrassment of why anyone else signed up for this. Not even Tej, honestly.

Zaid perked up though, when Rosey explained about how her group had run away...run away to somewhere out of the experiment's long arm. Away from cameras, escaped (but still trapped). Free but not free. "I thought this whole bloody island was controlled by them! You're telling me, it's not? Is it even an island, bloody hell!" Zaid was excited, pleased even.

He felt an epiphany, a sense of superiority and smugness that he hadn't felt in 8 months. "Now I understand why our psychopathic bosses are trying to get rid of you and your mate. You're not just liabilities. You know something they don't."

And that clinched it for Zaid, really. Rosey had answers, locations, experience here. No way was Zaid going to let that go. He wanted to keep Rosey.

Until Joshua showed up - not just hoarding food, but wanting to expel Rosey. AndJoshua wouldn't be the only one feeling this way, either. Fucking hell. If Zaid chose to defend the newcomers, he needed a damn good reason for it.

And Rosey herself, apparently, wasn't so easily deterred. She started on some strange ruse. An actual ploy, like they were in some movie. When she mentioned asking advice on spices of all things, before Zaid could stop himself, he barked a loud, incredulous (and bitter, but only he knew that) laugh.

"Ha!" he exclaimed a distinct pain tightening his chest. Zaid ignored the pain, and tried to spin it for Rosey's ruse. "Erm...yeah! That's right. You survived without chili and -and - and cardamom all these years, so just fuck right back off, woman! Here, you can have this -" Zaid reached into Joshua's wagon and shoved a small jar of cinnamon sticks into Rosey's hand. At Joshua's protest, Zaid said, "You've already got a jar of ground cinnamon, mate. Trust me - you? Will never use that much cinnamon. You just wouldn't know how."

Turning to Rosey, he said, "Now piss off! I'll escort you to the forest meself!" With his body turned away from Joshua, Zaid shrugged at Rosey and gave her a confused expression: is this what you wanted me to do? The fuck am I doing?

As he walked, a song began to take shape. A jangly guitar, a driving bass tight with the drums. A lead guitar kicked in, on fire. Scratchy and anthemic enough to send Tej into a sprint.

After all this time, he liked to run towards something. Almost made him giddy.

Once in front of his incomplete work, he began to sweat. The heat, the fever. Tunnel vision-- or had the dark simply shrouded around him? With a blank stare, unblinking eyes froze on a tower built out of everything he'd collected over the last year. (Longer? Whatever.)

Maybe all the pieces stitched themselves together. And all Tej did was stand there, absorbing light. Gaze locked with the empty eyes of a face he could've sworn peered out amongst the junk.

The realization someone else had walked up peeled the attention off his project. An annoying jolt, like daydreaming out a train window and being rudely interrupted by the sudden glare of sunlight.

"Heard you're in the tower now. Long way out from that, hey." Tej kept it to a bare glance at Zaid. "Couldn't even get you to cross the street for a coffee, way back when." Let alone go for an actual walk. Of course, Zaid had a monstrosity of an espresso machine. Industrial, restaurant quality. Straight from Milan or some shit like that. They never needed to go out for coffee, did they?

"You wanna wreck this too?" A bored murmur as he gestured specifically to one of the hornet cctv 'faces' near the top of the pile. A flashback to a hornet's nest in a bungalow. Bzzz. Now, Tej became entranced with their images in the reflection of the screen. "Or, uh..." So much so, Tej didn't realize he'd trailed off completely.

Alone this time, because all three Alexes were busy, so was Akhila. Everyone was busy, so Zaid just informed Selin he was headed out. Seemed a good thing to do, just in case.

And yes, Zaid really wanted a 'just in case' plan. He didn't want to die out there. He didn't want to die at all. He had to learn that too, 18 months ago and counting, in the most terrifying possible way.

(In his sleep, Zaid could still feel Tej's cool hand in his, gripping tightly, affection or hate buried in his tendons as he propelled them both off the Tower. The feel of falling, of his powers exploding in panic. Sometimes, he actually just fell, and woke up before impact. Sometimes Tej was with him, laughing all the way. Sometimes, Tej flew away in shadowy fury. The dream never had the same ending.)

Curiously, Zaid found a thin footpath in the forest and decided to follow it. And by the time Zaid recognized the rock formations peeking over the treeline, it was high noon. Zaid pressed forward, until another formation came into view, and movement. A jolt of excitement - he'd found FLOWR workers! Or maybe the survivors from Rosey and Hana! - replaced by a different sort of jolt, when the figure's gait, hair, limbs...he all came into recognizable view.

Zaid and Tej had seen each other around - how could they not in the small village, despite their respective self-exiles - but it never lingered. Here though, Tej refused to look at him (the coward!) for long, whilst Zaid tried to make sense of the scene before him.

Despite Tej's dodgy gaze, he still had a mouth on him. Chatting bitter memories as if a long, barren dearth of silence hadn't opened up and stretched out between them for over eighteen bleeding months.

Zaid stepped through, fully in the clearing now. He took his time, drank some water, ate a bit of dried fruit and studied the...structure. It was grotesque, unnerving. It challenged the eye to look at it. "Is this the Tower?" Zaid smiled slightly. "Are you building this for me?"

You wanna wreck this too?

"Reckon I've wrecked your things enough, Tej." Not 'my love', not 'darling' or 'sweetheart' or even 'you bastard'. His sweet, simple name. Zaid hadn't uttered it in 18 months, not aloud. It mashed softly between Zaid's tongue and palate.

Zaid stepped in closer now, a buzzing stirring his nerves the closer he got to Tej. A hum, like the thrum of Tej's chest against Zaid's ear, when Tej would speak softly in bed. "I saw this on the feeds. What is it?"

She couldn't believe that back then, having cameras around thrilled her, got her excited. She kept her life private as much as possible, but it didn't feel like invading into her private life, it felt like recording and documenting something that would be shown and talked about for decades and centuries, and she was at the forefront of it, among the firsts who's names would go down in history for what was happening on this beach.

She was right, probably, just for all the wrong reasons.

"Do they have past recordings as well or is it all live feed and people are watching if they want to? Do they still run, now that the place is empty aside from whoever from your group goes in?" If it was still running (and it had to, since they noticed almost immediately when Rosey and Hana showed up), those live feeds had to show somewhere else as well.

Once again Zaid answered with new questions (less accusatory this time, which Rosey appreciated) instead of an actual answer to what she was looking for, and Rosey was getting a bit annoyed, but she forced it down, did not show any of it - this wasn't the situation when she could nilly-willy get annoyed and snap at people, as much as she got used to being more open with her annoyance and anger in the past twenty years.

So instead of pointing out that they really should be talking about the food, she shook her head, "It wasn't just the two of us." If it was, they would have killed each other before anything else would have killed them, really. And Rosey didn't even want to think about Tiago being in that damn grave pit in that case.

"Most of the people died, but there were others who ran alongside us. A handful of people, barely any, but it was enough that once we settled down on another beach we found, we managed to make it work. It was hard, we lived on scraps, we had to build everything up from scratch and in the beginning the assholes kept sending things after us to take care of us, too, but we made it." It was luck of the draw as much as their skills, that some of the people who survived and ran actually had knowledge on how to survive at a place like this island. "They stayed behind when we came - we weren't even sure if you guys actually were here, doing a whole new experience or if we were just being fucked with, maybe to lure us out or something."

Rosey asked more questions, and these ones Zaid responded better to. He didn't even realize he'd been avoiding her initial queries about the food supply. Subconsciously or no, thinking about food inventory - about feeding others - was a sore topic for Zaid. But questions about the cameras, the monitors, the feeds? That had become Zaid's new wheelhouse.

"If they do record, it would have to be digital recordings, but. In your time..." Zaid frowned. Would it have been digital then, or actual tapes? "Have you asked Selin? She's the librarian, erm. Brown hair and eyes..." Or were they black, or hazel? "Pretty thing, twenty-something. She was collecting as much media as she could from the Tower, minus the personnel files."

Zaid pointed at Rosey. "Personnel files. They might even have one on you, love."

Rosey was doing a stellar job answering everything he asked. Zaid could sense some kind of growing tension in her, but he didn't know what could possibly get her that way, so he ignored it for now. Who knew what was going on in her mind. "There are others?? I've - I've never seen you on any of the camera feeds, so that means there's no cameras on that beach you were on. Why did you avoid coming back here, for all that time? Were you afraid of-- oi! Joshua! Where d'you think you're going with all that, mate?"

Zaid had cut himself off and yelled out when he noticed another man furtively dragging a wagon behind him, rushing to his bungalow. In the wagon was a pile, covered poorly by a blanket. A glimpse of FLOWR brand cans peeked out from one corner.

She didn't blame Zaid for wanting to know, Selin felt that she might drive herself mad trying to know everything. She barely wanted to know what she already knew, finding out more about their situation after being stuck here for so long felt like it wouldn't do them any good. "If you find anything out, like where these spots are that we've never seen, let me know. Don't keep everything to yourself."

His quoting of Jane Austen made her purse her lips together, a little annoyed that he was right that there may be a point in there. Of course, she had spent some time struggling with her own perceived selfishness. But her being selfish when it came to forming a romantic relationship wasn't the same as hoarding food for oneself with no regard for others going hungry. "I think the cure for it is empathy. Putting yourself in other people's shoes. People need to eat, Zaid. Maybe in some situations you can forgive selfishness, but I think if it's at the expense of other peoples well being and survival, you can't just sit back and accept it as a fact of life. There's a time and place for selfishness and I don't think now is one of those times."

He gave her a bleak smile, and a half-shrug. The announcement ended, and Zaid added, "These people - the FLOWR company or whatever - they're sadists. Always tricking us. Them camera feeds might just be another trick."

Maybe that was a theory, in and of itself; but to Zaid, it just sounded like his usual brand of paranoia.

Selin found little humour in Zaid's Austen quip, instead sticking to her stern admonishment of people's selfishness, offering up empathy as the compromise. "Well, okay. So what do you suggest, Miss Conviction? Can't just tell people to go find some empathy, no one will listen." Or care. People just didn't care...

...except Selin did. Selin had the capacity to care, and Zaid wanted her to. He would even encourage her, so he could feed off her like some kind of emotional vampire.

Sheepishly, Zaid folded his arms right across his chest, but stood straighter when Selin presented her work. A lot of her effort and time had gone into this; Zaid had slowly abandoned the work once the shelving and majority of books were in here, all still in crates and boxes. Now it was all unpacked, clean and organized. Zaid walked slowly around, as Selin described each sections. "You had a vision and you made it real, darling. That's brill," he murmured. Not everyone could do that, not everyone could finish what they started.

Especially on this island, and especially after learning the truth about their contracts.

Case in point, as Zaid turned into the music room, and stared at the half-done mural on the wall. Not everyone could finish what they started.

"Is he coming back to finish this?" Zaid called out to ask Selin, his voice sounding more high and strangled than he intended. He'd wanted to sound calm and authoritative, but apparently his throat and tight chest had other ideas.

"I probably should take a look at some point. See what they have on all of us. If there's any information about the others who didn't make it." They stayed here for such a short time, they didn't even know all of their names, who died due to the serum. Rosey, however, couldn't get herself to go in there. Not yet anyway. At least there was another way into the Tower and it wasn't just through that mass open grave pit with the remains of those people who weren't as lucky as the small group Rosey spent the past two decades with.

She'd forever be grateful that Tiago was not lying there, but that feeling could never be stronger than her anger towards the people running the experiment for putting them in these situations to begin with.

"Found anything interesting or useful in those 18 months you had the Tower all to yourself?"

Instead of answering her questions, Zaid instead asked why the two running this island would do something like the announcement, and Rosey automatically snorted, "Because they are assholes."

But Zaid kept talking, asking stronger, more accusatory questions, and then the last one came that got her horrified even at the thought of it. "Hell no, I'm not working with them, never have, never will!" she snapped and then stopped herself, took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself down. She was not Hana. "I'd rather jump off of a cliff or some shit than work with those two. And I've never met them, either. They had plenty of minions to do the daily tasks of everything that needed to get done back when our experiment was happening - they clearly did not want to dirty their hands. And if they had something on us, they would have just thrown that information in instead of paint us as scapegoats."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, let out a long sigh. "I'm not the enemy. I cannot tell you for sure why they would do this, but I can take a strong guess - they want to fuck with everyone and if they turn us against each other, we're not looking at them and plotting against them." And then there was Hana, of course. Worst possible person who could have come here, what was that woman even thinking, Rosey wasn't sure, but the fact that she worked with the two heads of this place would not be good news for them.

There was more to the Tower than that the control room, of course. But it was the only part that Zaid was interested in. The dorm area was just for sleeping, the file room he refused to acknowledge, and the main floor with the strange broken equipment, he wasn't technical enough to understand.

Besides, Rosey King was a famous actor or something wasn't she? Twenty years back, anyway... Cameras would be the important part for her.

Rosey seemed vehemently opposed to the people in control of this place. And given what Zaid had heard about the pair emerging from the woods looking like wild forest-folk, he could believe it. Then again, they could be yet another trick. Costumed up to look like they'd been surviving on scraps.

Rosey King was a famous actor or something.

But Rosey had all the right reasons, points that Zaid hadn't thought about (not that he thought about much except the control room recordings and exploration. and Tej).

"How did the pair of you survive? For twenty bloody years, no less? Are there other...erm, houses out there? Other places like this?" Zaid motioned to the relative civilization before them - the bungalows and Medicentre, the Hub and warehouse. "How did you two stay alive?"

In case she took offense, Zaid added, "I wouldn't have been able to survive."

"Oh. Well, just briefly. I'll eventually want to take a closer look at the tower and what's inside it," what there might be there still about them and their experiment, "but I figured I'd get acclimatized around here first. It's been a while since I've been here."

And really, she couldn't get herself to brave the insides of the tower, and whatever documents she'd find about herself and Tiago and the rest of the volunteers. To potentially read back all those pre-experiment interviews and conversations where she was so hopefuly, so optimistic about everything. To read what others might have said. She'd deal with that, but not now. Later. When the leaders of the experiment didn't try to chase her and Hana away.

And he might have not been out hunting, but once he introduced himself, she knew he was one of the people she was actively looking for. "Oh, that is just lovely, I--" She scoffed at his continued words. "No, I don't have plans to go back into the wilderness anytime soon." Was not going to say that eventually, she hoped that either she could go back for Tiago and the rest, or they'd come after them by themselves. Bringing up even more people from their group was probably not the smartest move considering the announcement.

Which, once again, broke the silence and Rosey watched as Zaid's expression shifted, realizing just who was standing in front of her. At least he didn't immediately tried to send her into the forest. "Yes, actually, you can," Rosey announced, back straightening, not even a blink of indication that she was bothered by the announcement or even heard it. "I heard that you're the chef around here. Or was one, up until recently. So wanted to get a lay of the land on the food situation. How have you been sorting it all until now? How much food has actually been coming in from those assholes and how much have you been gathering yourselves? How stocked up are the warehouses you guys have?"

"The Tower was locked to us at first, too. It, erm...opened up to us erm. Almost 18 months ago, really." The tunnel entrance through the mass grave pit of human remains - Rosey King's people, in fact - made Zaid shudder internally. But at least now he'd been part of the taskforce who carved out the second entrance, directly to the main floor of the Tower.

He stiffened at the words of the announcement, unsure what to make of it. That suppressed rage that he'd tamped down with regret and shame - but the rage was easily directed to the announcement, the people behind this whole nightmare. Dr Pan and Mr Hook. Zaid hated them, he knew that in his heart.

But he'd signed up for this, hadn't he? How much of that blame should be directed at himself?

Rosey was asking about the food storage and supplies. Six months ago, Zaid would've had detailed answers for her about inventory and storage from the hunting-foraging-farming-fishing projects formed by various industrious people.

But he'd abandoned his authority over all that, now. Zaid barely ate anything himself. He'd become one of those people who only used food as 'fuel', rather than to savour and enjoy.

"Why would they do that?" Zaid motioned to one of the nearby loudspeaker posts, ignoring Rosey's questions for now. "Why would they punish us, just because you and your mate showed up? What do they have against you? Them...those in charge. Dr Pan and Mr Hook, yeah? Do you know them, have you met them?" Zaid looked even more wary. "Did you work for them?"

The idea to maybe hold another meeting was a good one. Surely everyone coming together to discuss what their options were would help people's mindset on the situation. "I think a lot of people would be in agreement if we had an island wide meeting about it. How can you justify getting rid of two people when we have so many options!" She agreed that maybe this would be something to bring up to Lindi, she easily held a good standing, and oozed authority even though they weren't designating leadership to anyone. When she spoke, they listened.

Zaid including her right after, made her chuckle softly. "Well thank goodness for the 'stern pretty librarian thing'. I guess nobody would listen to me without it." She replied sarcastically. He didn't mean anything by it of course, just a little complimentary teasing, but she'd hope that people didn't solely like and listen to her for that reason. "I just hope nobody does anything drastic. We're all in the same boat here. All of us stuck, all of us having made this bed we're laying in. They others are just the easy scapegoat to blame right now when all they did was come out of hiding. People can be so selfish."

"But there are other cameras, Selin. Set up in places that I don't recognize, but I assume are on the island. Forested areas, clearings and fields - even strange buildings. The feeds don't stay on permanently, they flicker on sometimes for seconds, sometimes minutes long. I write down everything I observe, then try to...I don't know. Map it, somehow. I'm not a scientist or whatever, but I've got to know." He eyed her uneasily. "I thought I saw the back alley of a restaurant on the screen. My restaurant, in London. Tej, he was with me in the control room, he saw it too." Or, he'd deny seeing anything. Zaid simply wasn't sure. He finished feebly. "I just have to know, love. I...I don't have anything else going on."

Zaid didn't mind confessing this to Selin. They weren't bosom buddies, but he'd seen her lowest, and she'd seen his. There was a bond there, even if it was informal and underdeveloped. But Selin wouldn't judge or deride him - that, Zaid knew.

Selin's outlook was pure and simple, but Zaid felt it was likely more complicated, for others. "But the food situation, darling..." He grimaced, then said: "'Selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure.' Austen wrote that, I'd always liked that quote." He gave a wry smile at Selin. "Maybe there's a point in there."

They got to the library, and Zaid opened the door, motioning for Selin to lead the way in. As he motioned with his arm, he sniffed, then sniffed at his shoulder. "Fuck me. I smell like a teenage boy's mouldy basement. Why didn't you tell me! I should've showered first."

"Well, I'm sure you could use a little fresh air. It must get stuffy up in that TV room all day. I can't imagine how hot all those screens get." Thankfully, for whatever reason, he obliged to come along with her rather than to take an isolated outing to the woods. But of course, that damn announcement had to go off again, reminding them of the unfortunate new update.

"I doubt they're bluffing if that's what you mean." Selin answered with a sigh as she continued walking in the direction of the library. "It's scummy. I mean, they've left us alone for this long, now they decide to try and start some kind of turf war? And all of us against the two of them just to make it even more unfair. I don't think most people will fall for it but there's no telling what some people might try and do out of desperation."

But time - and Zaid's own taste of cutting humility - had changed that. Selin did embody the brightness of youth, and that was a good thing. She helped, even when Zaid rebutted and self-deprecated, she still persistently came up with offers to help. Or make him helpful.

Here she was, once again, making that same small yet brilliant offer.

Zaid could never figure out how to be sincere enough to say 'thank you' for it, either. Instead, he nodded along with her reasoning for getting him out of the control room. "You're absolutely right. Since I've gotten back from the woods, I've just been holed up in there. It's sometimes interesting, you know. Seeing everything on them cameras. Reckon it feels like a sense of control, or that."

A turf war. Zaid considered Selin's point of view, as he followed along after her, stuffing the cables into a pocket of his FLOWR cargo trousers (ugh. So unfashionable and worker class, yet so pragmatic. He hated himself). "You think we should...erm. I don't know. Try to...meet as a group about it? Might be Lindi should do something?" It wasn't his problem, and yet he was still nosing into it.

"Or you. People like you, and they listen. Though I suspect that's more because they're into the stern pretty librarian thing."

The announcement blaring over the island speaker system was getting old. Lindi had prayed that as the sun set they might get a respite for sleep. No such luck. Lindi looked at her watch, timed the announcements. Every twenty bloody minutes. Great.

If she wasn't going to sleep, she could work at least. But rationing for a large group was beyond her. People had already come by the warehouse to take home their own supplies, and it wasn't like Lindi could stop them. They were scared, anxious, even if they tried to hide it. She could see it. She went to the warehouse anyway, and grabbed a clipboard that hung by the main door, the inventory list.

She needed help, she needed a plan that she could put to the group, she needed a friend. Lindi made the walk over to the tower, amused at how familiar and benign it felt. This same walk would have once petrified her, now she was taking it willingly. Lindi made her way inside the tower, climbed up the stairs, finding Zaid exactly where she knew he would be.

The monitor screens glowed a sickly green-blue-grey, silhouetting Zaid's figure. He sat, absorbed into the screens. He knew she was there, he'd probably been watching her through the CCTV feed.

Lindi came up behind him. His aura hung tight by his body, a wavering mess of perpetual paranoia. Lindi ached for Zaid. She wanted to help him calm down, to bring him back to the man she'd befriended those years ago back on the beach. It would be simple, a little push, smoothing out the edges of his anxiety. No, that wasn't what she was here for today. Lindi set aside the urge, and instead reached to squeeze his shoulder. It felt boney, too thin. "Hey," she said, pulling over a stool to sit next to him. Placing a box of crackers and the inventory list on top of the CCTV control panel. "I need your help." The reason was clear, even here the announcement rang out over the intercom, briefly interrupting them.

Even after he'd discovered the truth about himself, from that bloody contract.

What was in Lindi's contract? Zaid wondered, not for the first time. He'd never asked. He hadn't asked anyone, not even his ex. He doubted Lindiwe had read his file; too polite, that one. The way she'd lamented over being away from her daughter when they'd first met, the feelings of loss and grief and regret they'd semi-bonded over - what did that all mean to Lindi, now that she knew her truth?

He didn't turn when she entered the control room. Zaid wasn't even sure if he felt glad that she'd come to visit him, or inconvenienced by her presence. So he remained in the comforting glow of the TV screens, pulsing with feeds and footage.

A greeting, a squeeze of his shoulder by a soft, warm hand, and a box of crackers. Lindi was honestly a perfect human being, even now. Zaid would resent her for it, but that brand of adoring love/resentment was currently assigned to another person on the island.

"If it's about these announcements, I'm not much help there, love," Zaid murmured over the fingernails he'd been nibbling. He pointed towards the screens. "Thirty-eight bloody cameras, and not one of them showing bog-all of Rosey and the other one's origin point. Or any secret building where those 'Hook' and 'Pan' bastards might be hiding out. Or -" Or any sign of Inika. He didn't mention that footage from a year and a half ago.

He turned finally, to look up at her. Her dark skin glowed in the blue light. "So what do you reckon? Rosey and Hana - friend or foe?"