12 Towards ANDROMEDA (1/2)
”Ephraim . . .” She mutters, and then browsed her phone. She opened her Facebook and then scanned through Raim Hughes' timeline. She stared intently as she scanned the contents. There was a gut feeling she had that she couldn't put her finger into.
”Leader. . .”
And it wasn't something pleasant.
**
”Your mistake, Lancelot,” Andromeda says. ”Is that—you're wrong to trust me.”
Ephraim woke up in the middle of the night with the tic of the clock seemingly getting hauntingly louder. He sat straight as he catches his breath. He couldn't quite remember his dream—but he saw something. Someone.
A girl with silver locks glistening against the moonlight. Her blade radiant from the moon rays as its sharp end pointed to the man holding a corpse—
Andromeda.
His gaze fell to his phone. It was already 3 in the morning. Ephraim shut his eyes for several seconds, listening to the tick of the clock. It was louder than the ones in their house. He always hated that sound—even as he thinks, or even when he tries to shallow his breaths, time doesn't seem to stop. He disliked the fact that no matter how many times humans tend to slow down; time was always going forward ceaselessly. Nobody could turn back the time. For Ephraim, time was the real enemy. No human could defeat it.
Ephraim stood up to the balcony doors, which were made of glass, and was covered in an almost-transparent curtain. He opened the doors as he welcomed the cold ocean breeze. The scent of sand and cold seawater.
He had a view of the deep—the moon illuminating the seemingly perpetual array of ocean water. The sea was blue in the day, but it was grey at night. Ephraim ambled to the cold terrace, leaning to the porch. He stared at the full, bright moon. Ephraim, for a long time, didn't really have the time to admire the sceneries laid before him. He was fixated with the past.
But now, in the odd time of 3 AM—
He learned to admire the present.
He eyed the ocean—and then he narrowed his eyes as he tried to look at the distance. It was a bit blurry now. He wasn't wearing his glasses, after all. Ephraim turned to come back to his room and take a long bath. It was useless to go back to sleep when he himself didn't want to let slumber take the better of him.
He must think.
Not about his existential crisis; no.
He must strategize.
If the former graduates with failing grades cannot do it—
Then, he, a scholar and a young man with a keen mind must be able to.
**
Peru's climate is known to be similar to the countries in the tropics. It was already a several degree Celsius hot in Lima. The team left the penthouse exactly 8 in the morning and decided to shop for some supplies in Lima. It seemed the president did provide their gear, amongst many other things. Ephraim told them the president missed a few types of equipment they would need.
”Rope . . . really?” Samuel says. ”Are you serious?”
”Well, Samuel,” Ephraim answers. ”We're going to the ruins. Underground. We will need ropes.”
”This isn't really what I signed up for,” Samuel says, and then cocked a grinning smirk. ”I like it.”
”A-are you sure, Team Leader?” Asks Esmeralda. ”. . . I-it's not like I'm . . . against it. It's just that . . . aren't we deviating from the task at hand, as Hiroaki-san had said?”
”Well, you're right,” Berthold says, agreeing with Esmeralda. ”Ephraim?”
”Hm,” Ephraim smiles as he nods. ”I understand your sentiments. Esmeralda,”
”Y-yes!”
”Don't worry. We will be checking ANDROMEDA first,”
”R-really?”
”Aw, lame!” Samuel says from a distance.
”Yes, and when we don't find anything, we will go to Machu Picchu,” Ephraim says. ”Don't worry.”
”Well, isn't it more useful to divide the team so it'd be faster?” Samuel asks. ”I think it'll be a waste of time for us to go to ANDROMEDA first, and then in the citadel.”
”Actually, I think Sam's right.” Says Berthold. ”But I disagree with him,”
”Huh? Whaaattt?” Samuel frowns.
”For starters, we're not searching the premises in just a day, so it would be more of a waste if we divide,” says Berthold. ”Right, Leader?”
”Yes,” Ephraim answers. ”Excavating is done in several days, or weeks, depending on the archeological site. It will be wiser to go to ANDROMEDA first and see if we could find anything or otherwise.”
”So we're really going to spend several days in a boring, isolated lab?” Samuel grunts. ”I would die! Literally!”
”How?” Esmeralda asks.
”Boredom, Hag!” Samuel exclaims. ”I didn't sign up for this,”
Esmeralda giggles. ”Have you been listening, Shorty? That's why Team Leader decided to head to Machu Picchu in case we fail to find things.”
”Ooh,” Samuel exclaims. ”Stupid, I'm listening! I'm just not sure how we would know we're NOT actually finding anything out there. Like . . . we don't even know what's the research supposed to be.”
”You got a point,” says Berthold. ”We don't actually know what we're searching for. It could be a serum for a virus or a cure. Or it could be a monster lurking.”
”That's creepy,” Samuel says. ”But I ain't a fan of fiction! I need friggin' facts to support a claim. That's why there's RESEARCH,”