Jane awoke with the dawn, feeling refreshed, which was damn unnerving given that she’d purposely stayed up all night trying to keep that from happening again.

She sat up in her too-perfect bedsheets, batted silver-streaked brown hair out of her eyes, and did a quick check of her bedroom. Gentle sunlight filtered through a large bay window with gauzy drapes at one end of the room, despite the fact that she remembered smashing the window not five minutes before. The polished wood desk she’d toppled just before that was back in its place against one of the room’s shiny white walls, complete with the sparse collection of books on a small inset shelf.

Jane collapsed back upon the soft mattress, stifling a scream.

“I don't care anymore,” she moaned into her pillow. “One way or another, I’m getting out of here today!”

---

She spent the morning hiding under the covers. She mulled her options, screwed-up her courage, and fought to control her breathing all the while.

There were really only two. Well, three, if counting… the less good way out.

By midday, hunger prodded her to change from the sterile blue pajamas into the closet’s only other garment: a plain, full-length green dress. She did so only because she’d learned that the dining room wouldn’t have food unless she changed into it… in the bedroom… with the door closed.

“Stupid dress,” she muttered, trying to get it to sit properly across her bust. It felt like it had been tailored for someone younger, or at least perkier.

She passed through the dining room quickly, pausing to only grab the inevitable small grey food-disc on the solitary plate set at the table, as well as the small white pill set next to the plate.

“They can't cook for crap but they can get the name-brand meds,” she scoffed, downing her daily antidepressant.

Thoughts of who “they” might be pinwheeled in her head as she stepped out her front door, nibbling on the flavorless food-disc. She still didn’t know how she’d gotten there, and she’d never seen anyone else within her prison… only the neighbors on either side.

She planned to get much closer to one of them today.

The lush, humid greenery of the rest of her prison assaulted her senses. Small but colorful birds darted from tree to tree, frustrated in their pursuit of a larger area in which to roam. Sunlight—or a clever substitute thereof—warmed the biome-in-a-bottle, which was small enough to let her see its entirety from her tiny house’s front porch. It was circular, and it couldn’t have been larger than a cricket field, and its walls were made of glass.

On the other side of the glass was grey, pockmarked stone on all sides, save for a pair of other biomes connected to hers toward what she reckoned were the north and south.

She looked north, but saw no one at the pair of heavy metal doors that separated her biome from that one. She looked south, toward the darker, more arid biome…

Vex was there, as usual, sitting naked and cross-legged on the other side of the doors, waiting for her.

His shape was similar to that of a human male, but the broad, flattened head atop his stubby neck bore a fearsome set of almost crocodilian jaws. His eyes were dark slits, and his body was covered in shiny brownish chitin. Even at this distance, she had to hold up a hand to shield her eyes from the sunlight that reflected off his scaly body.

Jane shook her head, took another glance north, and headed south anyway.

A field of freshly tilled dirt cooled her bare feet as she worked her way south. She frowned at the nearby rack full of gardening equipment and the box containing small containers of seeds, wishing any of the books inside had information about how to garden.

Vex sat motionless, watching her approach.

“I’m opening a door today, Vex,” she said.

She knew from experience that hearing through the doors wasn't a problem, and that there didn’t seem to be a language barrier… though she didn’t know how that could be the case, since he clearly wasn’t human. But he neither moved nor answered; he just kept staring at her.

Jane saw that he’d opened the door on his side again. “Typical,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You can't even try to persuade me to open my door for you; you just expect I’m going to do it, because you said I should.”

Vex cocked his head slightly. “But I have also stated you have nothing to fear from me,” he said, his voice guttural and clipped. “You are not what I consider worthy prey.”

“You’ll forgive me if that isn't the most reassuring sentiment,” she deadpanned.

Vex continued staring. “As I have said, I wish to hunt your birds. I have not tasted flesh since butchering the last of the small animals I found in my enclosure.”

Jane’s pulse quickened. “Do… do you ever get the feeling that you were supposed to breed them? Instead of just…?”

Vex cocked his head the other way. “I hunt. I know little about animal husbandry.”

Jane nodded, turning away.

“Have you come again to speak more of your life before this?”

“No,” she said, not looking back at him. She took a deep breath. “Thank you for listening, though.”

Vex was silent for a moment. “Why do you fear the other one? He does not sound like worthy prey, either.”

Jane pressed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “Thanks, Vex; always a pleasure.”

She set off through the vegetation separating the southern doors from the northern ones. Long grass swayed in a gentle breeze, and small insects buzzed around her head. None of it reached her, so lost was she in thinking through the decision at hand.

The northern biome wasn’t far. Jane stopped a few yards from the metal doors, looking over at the similarly verdant scene on the other side. She frowned as she noticed that the door on that side was open as well, though the biome’s resident still wasn’t there.

Jane sat in the cool grass, losing herself in thought as she waited for him.

Minutes later, she heard a cheerful voice call out: “Oh, hi there, Jane!”

Jane looked up, watching him step into the light. Where Vex was vaguely humanoid, this one bore a closer resemblance to some kind of horse; he was quadrupedal and covered in short, off-white hair, with a long shock of brown hair as a tail, and a brown mane situated behind his elongated face and its too-big eyes and tall ears. And then there was the really weird thing: two patches of hair near each of his hindquarters that grew green, resembling the image of a spidery, spiky plant.

She gave him a halfhearted wave as she watched his smooth gait with a mix of curiosity and revulsion. “Hey, Agave.”

Agave’s smile widened. “Do you want to come in? I know you keep saying you don’t want to everytime I ask, and I really don’t want to pressure you if you don’t, but you’ve just got to try some of my latest couple of batches!” He veritably danced back and forth on both sets of legs.

Jane looked down at the grass. “Um… thank you again for the invitation, but no thank you, Agave. I wouldn’t want to… bring down your good time over there.”

He stopped dancing. “Oh, believe me, it’s not all fun and games. It’s hard work growing and harvesting things, and even harder keeping my makeshift distillery going!” He sighed. “I just wish I had some actual agave plants over here to work with. And… well, someone else to share it all with.” He giggled. “My grampy always warned me about drinking too much alone!”

Jane looked up, seeing through the glass that he was pressed close against her metal door. She looked down again, taking a deep breath.

“Jane?” Agave said, sounding uncertain.

“Yeah, Agave?”

“Are you okay? You seem… quiet today.” He paused. “I mean, not that you usually talk much, but I’m picking up a really, really quiet sort of… vibe from you.”

She sucked in a deep breath, then blew it all out at once. “I can’t stay cooped up in here anymore, Agave. I don’t even know how long it’s been—”

“Sixty-three days, by my count,” he interrupted. Their eyes met, and he hunched his head, looking sheepish. “I mean, it could be more or less, but I remember all the different batches of things I’ve cooked up since then, and—”

“I can’t have alcohol!” Jane blurted.

Agave’s eyes widened. “Oh… why? Does it make you… itchy? Sneezy?”

She gave him a flat, exasperated look. “No, Agave; it makes me… happy, at first. Happier than anything you could possibly imagine.”

He smiled, and exhaled. “Okay, that’s a relief. Me too! You had me going for a second there!”

“I said, at first.” She shook her head. “The problem is, it doesn’t stop there. I can’t stop there. I just… keep drinking, feeling happier and happier, until…”

“Oh,” Agave said, taking a step back. “I had an uncle who… um, yeah.” He bit his lip. “Jane, please… I’m really sorry about all this. It’s just… what I do. It’s who I am. You know?”

“No! No, I don’t, Agave. How could… making alcohol… be part of you?”

He sat down on his rump, frowning. The expression looked uncomfortable on his large, otherwise happy-looking face. “I guess I don’t know much about your people, but… yeah, for most of my people, there’s one thing that we’re really, really good at. Once we find that, we just… kind of lose ourselves in it. It’s our job, our life… our everything.”

Jane scoffed. “I can’t tell you how many jobs I’ve had in the twenty-plus years I’ve been working.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Agave hung his head. “I guess… I see why you didn’t want to talk about it before now.” He pursed his lips. “So… why talk about it now?”

Jane frowned. “Like I said, I can’t stay in here forever. I’m… going to open either your door or Vex’s door today.”

Agave brightened. “Oh, is he another friend?”

“He’s…” She struggled for words. “I’m… honestly afraid that he might kill and eat me.”

Agave’s eyes went incredibly wide, and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “I… that’s… that’s horrible! Please, if you’re getting cabin fever, pick my place, not his. I’ll… I can get rid of everything I’ve cooked up.” He straightened. “Wait a minute, I can hide it! You’ll never even know it’s there!”

“You’ll make more, though,” Jane said, hugging her knees to her chest. “You said it yourself: it’s part of your nature. And when you do, it’s my nature to drink it, and to keep drinking…”

He frowned. “I could try to stick with small-batch, micro-brew type stuff?”

Jane groaned, burying her face in her hands.

The two sat in silence. Eventually Agave stood again. “Please don’t do it,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “You don’t have to make a choice today.”

She shook her head. “I can’t live like this, Agave. Whoever brought us here, already killed me. It’s either going to be by my own hand up at the house, or by Vex’s hand if I let him in, or by losing myself as a great slobbering mess if I go with you.”

He studied her, still frowning. “Look, I don’t want to get down on you, but you sound… really afraid.”

“I get bad anxiety sometimes,” she said, laughing bitterly. “Yet another lovely cross to bear.”

He nodded. “Sure, I get that. But again, you don’t have to choose today. Maybe it’s not… safe… for you to come over here. So maybe, each day, you could work on learning more about Vex, or me, or just about how to have a better life where you are.” He paused. “How much do you really know about Vex now?”

Jane frowned. “Honestly, I… do most of the talking with him.”

Agave hunched his shoulders into a sort of shrug. “Well, there you go. If it’s not a two-way street, there’s no real way to know what he will or won’t do if you let him in.”

“Or you,” she said, looking up at him.

He craned his neck, looking past her. “I guess the next question is, what kinds of food do you grow over there? I can’t see anything obvious growing in your field… are your harvests going all right?”

“I… I just eat the food-discs.”

Agave gawped at her. “Well, no wonder you’re going crazy! Er, no offense. But seriously, I only ate those until my first crop came in, and I’d only eat them again if I had one fail.”

She sat quietly for a moment. “I don’t know how to grow crops.”

“Oh! That’s a problem. But, I can teach you!”

“But…” Jane wrung her hands. “What about… this place? What does it mean? Who put us here? It’s like… trying to fight it doesn’t make any difference. Whoever wants us here has got us good and stuck.”

Agave shrugged again. “Does it matter? We’re here, now. It isn’t perfect, but I think we can help each other. Maybe we can even help Vex, too?”

Jane gave him a small smile. “Thanks Agave. You’re… a good friend.”

He winked. “Friendship’s got nothing to do with it. I’m just advocating for less fear and more communication.”