Oxygen Starvation

"Today's meeting is canceled," Raifenberg read from the internal memo.

"Of course," he thought, glancing out the window. "Everyone's too busy with self-defense."

Oxygen masks and tanks had, over the past week, transformed from a fleeting fashion into a necessity. Everyone who could be was shifted to remote work. Public transport had nearly ceased. The world stood still.

"If only it were before the storm," Raifenberg mused, buttoning his shirt. But...

He bent over as if in a fit; a nasty chill ran down his back, his hands trembled. Better to go outside. The meeting was canceled, work had stalled, the government had all but surrendered...

"You're part of it too, by the way" he chided himself.

"What can I do? I'm just human," he consoled himself.

How convenient it was to pretend to be "just human"!

"I don't want to. I don't even want to think about it," he marched down the sun-scorched pavement of the deserted avenue, trying not to think about the numbers. 9%.

***

"That's good," Professor Moldor concluded, looking at Ivan's essay, and set the stack of papers aside. "I'm ready to give you a 1.7."

"Wait," Ivan was confused. "I'm flattered, but I don't understand — just like that? I thought you'd take at least two more weeks to grade."

Moldor looked at him. A faint shadow of a smile crossed the professor's weary, gaunt face.

"Two weeks, you say?" she pondered.

"Well, that's the usual," Ivan hinted.

Moldor abruptly stood up, grabbed her bag, pulled out a tank, and took a puff.

"I don't know about you, but I'm heading down," she suddenly lost composure, swept the papers off the table, and ran out of the office, leaving the door wide open.

"Down — to where?" Ivan asked the empty room, watching the professor briskly walk toward the elevator.

***

"Alright, this goes upstairs," Linda pulled a box of tanks from the trunk and looked around in surprise.

"Familiar place — oh right, this is where we..."

As if hearing her thoughts, Rodrigo appeared on the dormitory's doorstep, a cigarette as always in his mouth.

"Wow, you're here too?" he exclaimed, dropping his cigarette.

"Delivery for you," Linda nudged the box with her foot -"long time no see, by the way."

Rodrigo picked up the cigarette, sanitized the filter with fire, and lit it.

"These days, people are more into oxygen," Linda smirked.

"Want to come up?" Rodrigo asked.

"Got work to do," Linda shook her head.

"Pity," he sighed. "Well, thanks for the delivery. Maybe we'll see each other again?"

"Again?" Linda was surprised.

"Yeah, you know..." his usual smirk suddenly vanished; he quickly finished his cigarette, grabbed the box, and went inside.

"Don’t go getting all poetic!" Linda shouted after him.

Rodrigo silently nodded without looking back.

She returned to her car, sat behind the wheel, and sighed. She had no more work today. She had lied. She turned the radio knob — only one station was broadcasting, and that in emergency mode, delivering only news. Pure boredom.

"What if..." Linda pondered, glancing at the dashboard. "Yes, there should be enough gas."

She nodded decisively and started the engine.

***

The laboratory was locked.

"Of course, everyone's gone remote," Akemi thought, unlocking the door with her key. No one had bothered to tidy up — tables were cluttered with printouts and journals, computers were on and humming steadily. It felt like everyone had dropped everything and fled.

"But they remembered to lock the door," Akemi noted.

"No point in guessing," she argued with herself, leaning back in her chair after scouring the lab for any sign of life. She had seen those "signs" — everyone was gathered at the entrance to the shelter beneath the main building —she had noticed the queue on her way to the lab. Trams weren't running today, so she had to walk to the campus.

Akemi stepped into the garden. It had become overgrown with lilacs in just a few days, and breathing under their canopy was easy and free. If only they had managed earlier...

Her hand in her lab coat pocket found a crumpled piece of paper — a phone number dictated by Raifenberg, which she had hastily scribbled in pencil. Why not... she shrugged, took her phone from her pants pocket, and dialed the number.

"‘Heimlich’, right? That's you?"

"Reinhardt. But it doesn't matter."

"Tell me..." Akemi hesitated. "I'm in the garden now; we've planted your lilacs everywhere. They're incredible — they grow faster than any other plant, a meter a day, and one bush produces as much air per hour as two industrial tanks. It's fantastic; it can't be real. Maybe we could... 'Airhole' project was canceled, but 'Heimlich'... everyone says it's amazing... maybe distribute it, send it out..." Akemi suggested, stumbling over her words.

"Miss... sorry, I don't know your name."

"Akemi," she suddenly sobbed, overwhelmed with emotion.

"Thank you. Akemi, the way you're suggesting — it won't work. Preserve the lilacs as long as you can, and share them."

The phone went silent. Akemi already regretted calling, but her curiosity about who was behind "Heimlich" had gotten the better of her.

"Found out? Happy? Why? Satisfied?"

She looked around the garden. No, not quite satisfied. Not yet. The lilacs had taken root wonderfully, so it hadn't been in vain... but the silence was oppressive. It seemed everything had frozen, like in an old photograph — not a single twig, not a single leaf, not a breath of wind...

Akemi abruptly turned and walked back to the lab, loudly singing the first song that came to mind — anything to drown out the silence. She exhaled nearly half a tank in one go, put on her mask, grabbed a box of seedlings, and returned to the garden.

It was akin to meditation — planting one after another in the empty beds, digging holes, inserting branches, covering with soil, watering...

She was on her third box, her back aching from constant bending and straightening, when she heard a voice behind her:

"What are you doing?"

The voice wasn't angry or surprised, just curiously interested. She straightened up, tossed the trowel into the box, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and turned around. It was Thomas.

"Planting."

He spread his arms.

"Let me help, then?"

Akemi didn't mind, but it seemed to her that he wanted not so much to help her as to occupy himself.

***

Linda wouldn't have minded going to the sea — but it  was too far, and she didn't feel like driving that long. Instead, she headed southeast, stopped along the way to grab some food, snack, and oxygen, and in less than an hour, she was there.

In the store, the lone cashier looked at her in surprise.

"Just so you know, we're not opening tomorrow. I'm finishing my shift and heading to the shelter."

"Yeah, me too," Linda replied nonchalantly. "I want to take a last look at something, and then straight to a safe place."

"Safe travels, then," the cashier replied.

Linda nodded, paid, and left. It was already close.