Don’t Break The Glass

Rain threaded down Kia’s reflection, distorting the image of a woman with porcelain skin and raven hair into bulbous patterns. Merging with outlines of the glistening city lights. Peculiar and prominent, the reflection pulled at her, close to having a mind of its own. All she could do was stare, but not what she desired.

Soft creaks groaned behind her, severing the quiet trance.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Kia said, barely over a whisper. “We all know it.”

Her eyes, verdant like the source of nature’s vegetation, focused on another woman standing by the doorway with her arms crossed.

“So you get to speak for everyone?” The woman said. “Got everything figured out like HIM, right?”

Kia swallowed hard. “The Board was satisfied with the results. Every shortcoming is a map. The world needs this breakthrough.”

“And what about her? Does she look more interested in the world?” The woman fired back, darting her eyes towards Kia’s arms. Soft cooing of a new born fascinated by the racing droplets.

“We have to breathe out the fear and doubts Ina,” Kia said, managing a fixated smile at her child. She hummed in gentle cadence. “Pressing matters stipulate solutions. I know how to resolve these issues.”

“Pressing matters can find someone else. This is madness!”

“It’s overdue.”

“Why do you have to be the one to decide right and wrong?”

“Please understand it’s for us all.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’ll remote wire the feed to my laptop so you can tune in for yourself. In the meantime, I’ll get the car ready. Grab her favorite raincoat,” she cupped Ina’s face, handing the baby over. “Sooner or later, we’re all face the mirror to wonder if we were better off staying quiet”

Kia sifted past her, storming down the flight of stairs, sensing their eyes on her back.

“Stare longer then,” Ina said. “All day, all night if you want. Don’t break the glass Kia!”

Kia heard her daughter’s faint cries by Ina’s outburst from the next room. She’d have to cry for all of them.

///

Her silvery car rolls through the pedestrian expressway, headlights punching through fog. The windshield heavily soaked from intermittent pitter patter.

Kia was in a car with ghosts; her own reflection more smeared, less recognizable.

Don’t break the glass.

She heard those words frequently, instilled in her like a second voice, perched on her back neck. Her mother regurgitated the verbatim before all those dance recitals as did her college roommate on exam days. Even now, she mused over its clattering against the current downpour.

She hit a massive puddle, which backsplashed against the windshield and pulled the car into the parking lot.

“At least humor me by letting her watch it,” Kia said. Placing the laptop between them, waiting for the screen to glow. The link’s connection awaited input by a primary administrator. Her bracelet blinked red and green panels. “She’d really appreciate it.”

Ina scoffed. Rubbing along one of her temples.

“Every time Kia,” she said. “ Every time I see her little eyes, I wish they were yours, not HIS.”

They stared deeply at each other for mere minutes.

Kia chewed her inner cheek. Those acerbic words spread like venom rather than a wish at the bottom of the well. Bitterness, yet not hatred.

“Even being Donovan’s, I know you,” Kia said. “You accept her the same way.”

She exited the vehicle, umbrella cupped at the ready. Frigid droplets and petrichor carried by gusts of wind kept Kia’s head on a swivel. Heels clacking towards the beige utilitarian tower. A brief glance allowed her to catch Ina watching behind conflicted eyes.

Inside the corridor, she adeptly flashed her clearance card to the attendant. Never slowing momentum until she reached the elevator on the far end side.

With one button press, she ascended up alone with her thoughts. Lights flicker into brief snaps, becoming her first and last known moments with Donovan, followed by Ina and meeting important board members who entrusted a budget approval for the project.

A collision of fleeting jabbers and memories of misfortunes followed like a train veering off its course. Don’t break the glass, failure, disappearance. Listlessly orbiting the mind, threatening to displace her in outer zones of reality.

Her heart pulsed in her throat, directing her head down, eyes shut from the light. The song her mother hummed, which she in turn replicated to her daughter, filled her mind. Cooling her fires.

“This will save us,” she said beneath her breath, maybe hoping Ina and Donovan sensed her affirmation. “I won’t break the glass.”

She repeated the verbatim in thirteen cycles, negotiating it down to its barest, hypercritical letters.

Melodious dings opened the doors and she strutted into the throng of lab coats, engineers, skirts and suits. A floor of multiple stark halls ventilated with fresh wax and caffeine.

Although the stale fear and doubts lingered in the cheek she chewed, she managed an asymmetrical smile to arching halls of people who welcomed her. Younger and older; optimistic, driven faces that knew her as Director Kia Widner. Some peeling away to accommodate her course like she was navigating reeds.

She found the opaque glass door stamped “The Meeting Room. Approved Only”. Here long hours fermented ideas. She nearly froze in her heels by an unexpected visitor: Chairman Wyatt Fornari. Right here, waiting outside.

“Mr Fornari,” Kia bemusedly offered to shake palms. “I didn’t realize you were coming in person. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s no bother,” he said, reciprocating a handshake. “It was short notice, but I see no problem witnessing the evocative display of your work. Certainly can’t be easy in this dreadful weather to walk in your shoes. But we tread along that glass floor regardless, yes?”

“Absolutely sir”

“Precisely what I want to hear. Let us attend the others, they’re eager to see the next chapter come to fruition” He pursed a smile, offering the door wide open.

“Thank you sir,” afterwards, she stepped inside, poised to make the hardship worth its weight in gold.

///

“Are we ready?” Kia said, pacing between the seated aisles. Silence filled the entire wing. “A question I raise to this room, to this initiative.”

The sparse audience—employees, press officials, managers. All vetted accordingly. Above them, silhouettes of the Board representing NATO’s interests watched her with vague comprehension. Fornari’s shadow at the forefront.

Kia stood before a curved halo, titanium constructed caliber, knotted with yellow and green wires. Nailed down by steel screws. Isolated by a long platform above a gouged abyss. Cables from sockets fashioned in the halo connected to an archway fashioned on the ceiling.

“Time and consistency played a significant part in Project Primordial’s development,” She flicked the switch on her bracelet, activating the distant link between her laptop to another back up laptop on her desk. One way communication for her family to tune in.

“The contributions of the teams here and abroad have been tantamount. So has the generous patronage of NATO. All of which I am humble to say led to the invaluable distillation of a new discovery not just in scientific studies, but in rapid economic revitalization.”

She nodded to Gary, a technician managing a command terminal. “Despite setback variables, we can now simultaneously enter the threshold of other worlds to access abundant alternative resources.” She mildly skimmed setback variables. Donovan’s disappearance interwoven in early Project Primordial iterations gnawed her into restless nights.

As power channeled via manual input, particles scuttled adjoining static discharges. High pitch whines and pulses congregated into a kaleidoscope of splashing colors. Everyone observed with bated breaths. More power amplified and crackled. Like a projector, visuals expanded outwards. Rising into the archway, presenting various images. Doorways to all kinds of new domains.

“What you’re seeing are glimpses of worlds. Distinct, yet untapped or more plentiful. Viable to replenish our depleted natural reserves! Are we ready to reshape the world?” Kia carried her voice to this jeering crowd, squashing the quiet doubts. Instead of basking however, her eyes refocused on the monitor; to Ina and her daughter.

Abruptly, streams of half baked electrical distortions whiplashed about. Slamming against the walls, searing its scorch marks. Papers scattering into makeshift tornados as panic ensued. Kia’s elatedness evaporated into anxious perplexity.

“Shut it down! Quick!” Kia urgently tried to get to the console as whines became rapid clicks and blares.

Cacophonous shouts overtook adulation. Gary fiddled with the console, nearly trampled by panicking footfalls. He claimed it wasn’t responding as sparks erupted. The winds intensified, materials flew out and a burst of electrical stream short circuited the console. Any possible means to decelerating energy flow shattered.

Dread slowly germinated in Kia, her feet lifting off solid ground. She clutched an aisle seat, reaching out to Gary’s hand, fingers just in proximity. Brushing past her, the laptop flew into the portal, dragging others into its maw. Pieces of equipment flew, including Gary’s tool kit smacking her off her grip.

By the time she processed the pain, glittering rings and prisms of mirrors filled her visions. Vapid thrums rippled head to toe. Her laptop disintegrated into shards. Air siphoned from her lungs, robbing her of a scream. Was she falling or rising?

Humming soothed in her ear, enough to tear her gaze from the imminent danger. They were hers, yet she wasn’t humming. How was that possible?

A jagged reflective mirror stretched over this unknown plane. Presenting herself, coddling her daughter the day after her conception. More mirrors manifested, circling her. Displaying individual moments with Donovan and Ina, moments that mollified her fear.

She extended to touch one, to find herself again. All of them faded. A massive orb of light swallowed her.

///

Kia woke in a strange world of black soil and endless stars peppered on dark skies. She rose to her feet, endeavoring to find stable bearings. Gary’s tool kit was the only reassurance she was alive. She fastened it against her waist.

She called out; waiting a moment. No answer, no echo. She clutched both forearms, rooting herself in emotions kept under lock and key. What had she done? Was this a mistake or punishment? Her knees trembled until she kneeled. Her failed promises threatening to sink her. Her eyes welled up, burns in her throat about to succumb to anguish.

Soft giggles and cooing interrupted her oncoming lamentation. Laughter nearby, life somewhere. Her heart fluttered, galvanizing her back to her feet. Maybe this wasn’t her prison.

She sprinted, tracking the unknown source. Down a hill, she called out once more. From here, she spotted a mysterious glass shard, floating against a twinkling spot. Easy to mistaken for a star.

She rushed staggering steps. Oblivious, maybe apathetic to falling in tumbles. Never stopping. Everything flipped upside down in seconds: the project, her colleagues, years of work. Now the only thing hounding her was getting home.

The shard entered the light. Up close, the ‘star’ resembled a rift in pure air. Inside was another world, vibrant in shades of pink, including plants. The refractive shard stirring memories entered the other side. Wafting away.

She stepped impromptu through this interdimensional doorway. Onward, she dashed with tensed muscles. No time to ponder these surroundings. Voices of home fuelling her spirit to stay the course, right to another rift. Nestled over a pond.

Kia filled her lungs, then released. Breathe out the fear, she reminded herself. “For them. I have to keep going even if it hurts.” In several back steps, she prepared a running start. One aggressive leap carried by momentum sent her off the ledge into another rift.

///

Minutes turned into hours. Hours within an unpredictable itinerary transcending fragile realities. This time, she collapsed hard into a world of gravity defying stone and grasslands. She squeezed the dirt, breathing heavily. Dwelling on whether to get back up. She reflected on Ina’s words, her life’s work, Donovan’s bravery in volunteering for the test trials. Every step led to her haunting mistakes. Who was she to channel all of her being towards a project when her own household needed her?

She punched the soil, sullying them in darker grime. All she wanted now was to apologize; to hold them all again.

Unnerving hollers and screeches rose in the distance.

Kia turned to witness fifty figures moving expeditiously. Each one varied in size from tall to small. All carrying sharpened tools, possibly rusted.

Panic overloaded every nerve in her body. She registered that she was in their way. Flight won against fight.

“Over here!” Another voice called out. Running alongside her, a slender woman wearing a half broken mask.

“Who are you?” Kia demanded.

“Your best chance,” the unknown woman said. “We’ll lose them in the rock formations!”

Adrenaline supplanted her pace, the increased hollering at their backs seeking to nibble away their need to survive.

They clambered across sporadic boulder clumps, squeezing past gaps until they found an interconnected tunnel. Hurling themselves beneath its shade. Waiting as the incessant hollering continued.

A few minutes passed. The masked woman peered out, listening to their cries die down in the distance.

“Looks like they’re gone,” she said. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You were almost bundled by them.”

“Wait, do I know you?” Kia arched a brow.

“More than a little.”

A moment passed, Kia saw a prominent glint in her eye. “Ina?” She hugged her tightly. “You feel cold, what happened to your face?”

“I’ve been waiting for you. Come, before more arrive.”

“I'm sorry, Ina.”

She looked back, not uttering another word. She led her along the narrow passage. Odors of damp stone and dust motes eddied under light rays.

They crawled towards an alcove, opening up into a massive cavern chamber, home to stalactites stained in wet calcite and funnel webs. No active spiders however. Among the crags, multiple fashioned baskets of foraged nourishment and water.

Kia took it all in. “How long have you been?”

“Many cycles now,” Ina said. “Time heals more than wounds. Come, have a seat.”

Kia followed her to a table, planting herself while Ina poured a watery substance. The former softly guzzled half the cup’s contents. Parched and energized.

“I have so many questions. None of this was intentional, I’m so sorry. I misjudged the power output. If I knew you’d get pulled in, I would’ve waited or let someone else finalize the-“

Ina raised her cup and clinked it to hers. “What matters is that the two of us are here together.”

“Don’t you mean the three of us?”

An uneasy silence drifted between them.

“Three?”

“Nevaeh. Where is she?”

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore. Never needed to.”

“That’s not funny Ina. How’d you forget what we talked about?”

“You’re stressed. You’ve been through a lot.”

Kia didn’t like how danced around her question.

“Ambition. The greater good,” Ina said. “Always in tandem, fueling you. You shouldn’t feel bad about balancing on that glass.”

Kia slowly processed her words and tried rising from her seat. Her legs felt like concrete.

“Ina…” she uttered, taking one glance at her feet: clumps of web encased both ankles.

Ina rubbed her temple. “There was always a tremor, a burden dropped unfairly on your shoulders. Doesn’t matter anymore. We can focus on what truly does: revitalizing the world.”

Kia slammed a fist against the table. “That’s wrong. None of it matters without my daughter. Where’s my baby?” her voice cracked. “You…are not Ina. You can’t be her.”

‘Ina’ vainly attempted to grab Kia’s face. A splash of remaining liquid from Kia’s cup foiled her. The mask dissolved into a pudgy pile. Underneath were holes dotted across the wearer’s lip, cheek and eye socket. This ‘Faux Ina’ growled. Rapidly expanding in size. Chitin plating, sleek and transparent, stretched along her body opposite of sockets where eight limbs sprouted. She was raw, unsustainable emotions manifested.

“Unlike all your talk, I’m real! Every little shame and guilt locked in a convenient box. I am your last chance!”

Kia’s blood ran cold. She didn’t want to look any longer and frantically rushed to one of the alternate passages. During this imposter’s transformation, she already sliced the threads using pliers.

Faux Ina’s bellowing rocked the cavern’s walls.

“Who are you to decide right and wrong?!” Faux Ina roared. “You fell apart when he abandoned you. You chose this! I held you together!”

Through the steep incline of this tunnel, Kia scurried on her knees wriggling a tighter space, inching under incessant rumbles. Faux Ina’s hand on the brisk of snatching her. Not close enough.

“Too late for apologies, too late for validations!”

Back outside, pounding thuds chased Kia, daring her to look back. She didn’t. She refused to remember Ina this way.

Another floating fragment fluttered about, glinting over the cliff edge. Bouncing voices rang along; voices of her own laughter with Donovan. Closer and closer, the memory became clearer: Donovan’s excitement when she made the first announcement.

Seconds later, the shard descended off the cliff. Kia lept after it as booms of a boulder flung by the faux Ina nearly flattened her. Falling and falling until the light engulfs her.

///

Through the vast tunnel, Kia’s nose bumped the reflection. Instead of one voice, multiple chattered in the memory. Impossible to discern individually. Shouts from constant directions intensified, repeating those four dreaded words.

Don’t break the glass, Don’t break the glass.

Kia’s brows furrowed. Her eyes widened, one knuckle folded up. She crunched her fist directly into the glass. Pieces scattered into a haze, purple darkness followed accordingly.

///

Soft humming woke Kia. She looked up from the sidewalk, two blurry figures. As the circling images settled, she saw Ina and a younger girl. Kia folded her arms around the child. No words needed.

“Neveah,” she sniffled.

Ina cupped Kia’s face with a softened smile.

“You were right. I’m sorry,” Kia whispered.

“Me too,” Ina said.

In a warm embrace, their faces turned to the warmth of the horizon.