Fleeting Breaths

[knlwtchr 0]

Little Pinta looked across the ring she and her girlfriend had created in the sandy floor of the biodome. Her vision caught the smiling gaze of her friend and it made her smile even broader than before. Pinta tilted her head back and let out a giggle through the mask she sported.

 

Each girl held tightly through gloved hands to either end of two threads of ribbon twisted lightly around a three foot metal pole in the ground. The game they were engaged in involved skipping in a circle. The players would pick up the pace slowly until the slack tightened around the pole and the girls ended in a giggling, tangled mess of arms and legs near the base. When they untangled themselves, the ribbons were straightened, and it started all over again.

 

The masks and gloves, on the other hand, were a whole different story. According to the Jadarians, just living in a biodome was no complete guard to infection. In keeping with the common paranoia and guarding their little ones from infection, parents often outfitted them with paper masks and soft, cotton gloves when interacting with other families.

 

Sometimes, parents wouldnt let their children interact with any of their peers at all. But, Pintas family was of the less popular mindset that social interaction was more important. Besides, there were extra safeguards to infection and they didnt want their little girl to miss out on all the experiences of life. This was not a common viewpoint of the Jadarian household and was most evident in the lack of social settings under the domes, like playgrounds, recreation centers, or social gathering structures.

 

The pole in the ground Pinta and her friend were playing with was so simple, but such a joy for two girls who rarely spent time together. The ribbon was so thin and becomming brittle with play, but symbolized that slight thread that held their friendship together through human interaction. They came to this place only at certain times of the day and then only a few times out of a week for such a short time. They played the game over and over and it never got old. They loved the game...they loved each other so much, any time they spent was precious.

 

Now, laying on her side, facing the friend she had so longed to play with each day, Pinta sobbed from two types of pain. One that was spreading over her body from the plague that had infested her biodome. The other pain was from the sight of her best friend laying next to her in a non-responsive stare. She had passed away just moments before after the two girls had touched hands without gloves for the first time. Since being infected and placed in the dome next to eachother, the Jadarian doctors saw no importance in no physical contact now.

 

A Starfleet Medical Officer was surveying the biodome, taking mental notes of the levels of stages the Jadarians were suffering. Andrea Knlwtchr's gaze fell upon two little girls facing each other and stepped carefully towards them. She knelt over the first little girl she came to and scanned her. But, it was too late. She had already passed away. With a grim longing, she looked over at the other little girl and faked a gentle smile. Then the Chief Medical Officer caressed her face.

 

"I'm Andrea, honey. You are going to be all right. I promise. We are here to help you."

 

Andrea watched as Pinta brought her knees to her chest and held onto them. She closed her eyes, took a last fleeting breath, and slipped into a long slumber. Tears welled up in her eyes as Andrea placed her fingers on Pintas neck, only to confirm the dreadful thought that just washed over her. Andrea looked towards Heaven, shook her head, and looked for another, less critical patient to innoculate.

 

"Lets hurry up, folks." She finally said to the rest of the medical team. "We are running out of time."