Aurora - Part 14

She entered the complex accompanied by a soldier.

She passed through two gates.

Then another.

At each one, someone checked her badge.

Name.

Position.

Authorization.

Time.

Destination.

Even after weeks, suspicion remained.

No one seemed to know exactly who was allowed to enter, who could leave, or who had permission to speak about Aurora.

Inside the complex, the atmosphere was unchanged.

Tense.

Exhausted.

There were too many people.

Military personnel.

Doctors.

Biologists.

Psychologists.

Technicians.

Researchers.

People arguing in corridors, speaking in hushed voices, staring at screens, examining numbers that led nowhere.

The question remained the same.

What did that thing want?

The psychologist entered one of the meetings.

It was the same meeting as always.

New measurements.

New hypotheses.

New questions.

No answers.

One of the commanders spoke.

— We need to determine the creature's intentions.

The psychologist looked up.

— She has a name.

Several people looked at her.

— What?

— Her name is Aurora.

Silence.

— We know that, — someone replied.

— Then use it.

The commander continued looking at the documents.

— We're not here to discuss terminology.

— This isn't about terminology.

She took a breath.

— It's her name.

The commander didn't respond.

To him, it seemed irrelevant.

— What matters is finding out what that creature wants.

The psychologist looked at the others.

No one seemed comfortable.

The fear in the room was palpable.

It wasn't openly expressed fear.

It was something more subtle.

Men speaking more quietly.

Doors being closed.

Soldiers watching Aurora through the cameras.

Researchers checking the same data over and over.

They were all facing something they couldn't understand.

And after weeks, the situation seemed to be getting worse.

Because Aurora continued to do nothing.

She didn't attack.

She didn't run away.

She didn't speak.

She didn't demand anything.

She didn't threaten anyone.

She simply remained there.

The meeting continued.

More theories.

More possibilities.

More questions about intent.

The psychologist remained silent for a while.

Then she left.

There were even more people in the corridor.

Men were arguing about procedures.

Some advocated containment.

Others wanted more tests.

Others wanted to bring equipment closer.

Others wanted to keep their distance.

It seemed everyone was competing to determine the best way to deal with something no one could even define.

She walked to the administrative office.

— Could I ask you for something?

The secretary looked up.

— Of course.

— I'd like to speak with Aurora's mother.

The woman hesitated.

— Her mother?

— Yes.

— She's here at the complex.

— Then could you call her?

The secretary looked uncertain.

— She hardly ever leaves anymore.

— Why?

— Reporters.

The psychologist waited.

— They're at her house all the time. Some keep watch through the night. People are camping in the street. They want to talk to her, photograph her, ask questions about her daughter...

The secretary shook her head.

— She can't even go out to buy food.

The psychologist fell silent.

Then she said:

— Call her.

— Now?

— Today.

— Are you sure?

— I am.

The secretary wrote something down.

The psychologist glanced at the corridor.

— And the schools?

— Which ones?

— In the surrounding area.

The secretary sighed.

— Many have been suspended.

— All of them?

— In the area near the camp, yes. For weeks now.

The psychologist stood still for a few seconds.

She thought of her own daughter.

Her backpack.

The complaint that morning.

The promise she'd made to pick her up.

Then she looked again at the door leading to the observation area.

Aurora was still there.

And while everyone argued about what the creature wanted, almost no one seemed to remember that, before all of this, there had been a mother who had a daughter.

A girl named Aurora.

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