Spock moved when Colby asked.
The small Ikona climbed down Colby's shoulder and pressed both hands against the shard near his collarbone. Air gathered above Colby's palm, tightening into the little cyclone Elias had already seen. The napkin spun once more around the current, then dropped flat when Colby changed his fingers.
The air flattened and hardened.
A short blade pulled itself into shape above his palm, hilt first, edge last. It looked almost solid until the edge rippled and gave away what it was.
Elias leaned forward despite the ache in his ribs.
"That is better control than I expected tonight."
Colby dismissed the blade with a flick of his wrist. The air came apart and brushed across the table, cool against Elias's bandaged knuckles.
"Useful enough for close work, not flashy enough to impress Kikaru, and quiet enough that Spock likes it."
Spock blinked like that was already too much praise.
Dot floated closer, studying him. "Your partner is adorable and rude in a silent way, and I respect that."
Colby laughed. "Spock judges everyone while saving energy by refusing to explain himself."
Spock turned his head away from them both.
"See, that means he agrees and hates the attention."
Elias looked toward the sleeping pods. Most of A Block had gone quiet, but quiet did not mean settled. Kikaru's pod still showed light under the privacy strip. Tid had not returned from the gaming lounge. Kari sat near her door with her bird Ikona tucked against her neck, reading the same page of a file for too long.
Too many people in A Block were pretending not to wait.
"How long have you been here already now?"
"Almost two weeks, long enough to know the food schedule and not long enough to stop wanting outside air."
"You think they will let people leave soon?"
Colby's grin faded. He rolled the gum to one side of his mouth.
"Depends on what they decide we are, because guests leave, soldiers get orders, and prisoners get paperwork."
"And what do you think we are here?"
"Useful enough to be treated carefully by command. Dangerous enough to be locked up nicely afterward."
That landed too close to Elias's own thoughts.
Colby leaned back and rubbed his thumb over the shard mark near his collar. Spock's small hand moved with his, covering the same place.
"I have a little sister outside this place named Maren. She is eleven, thinks breakfast cereal counts as dinner, and sends voice messages like she is charging by the second. If the military protects her, I cooperate with them. If they turn this into a cage and forget our families exist, I become less cooperative."
"That is honest enough to worry me tonight."
"No point lying to the oldest man in A Block. You might forget and hurt yourself by accident."
Elias gave him a flat look. "You are very committed to that joke today."
"It gives me emotional structure lately, sadly enough."
"You should request better structure before it spreads."
"I requested outside air and got reinforced couches. My faith in requests is wounded right now."
Colby tapped the table with one finger. The little cyclone returned for half a turn, then died.
"What about you, if everything gets worse and people start choosing sides, where do you stand?"
Elias looked at Dot before he looked at Colby. She was still watching Spock, but her hand hovered over Elias's chest like she knew the question had teeth.
"I stand wherever I can keep people from using us first," Elias said. "That may be naive, but I have had a long day and my better political answer got kicked out of me. If the choice becomes cage or chaos, I want a third door before either side locks us in."
Colby's mouth opened.
Pain drove through the center of Elias's chest.
The chair vanished under him. The table, Colby, Spock, and the black report line on the wall screens thinned into blue light. Dot shouted his name, but her voice stretched as the room pulled away.
Then Elias stood in the familiar blue space again, balance failing under feet that had no ground worth trusting.
Dot spun away from him, recovered faster than he did, and passed through the Doctor's chest without touching him.
"Still strange inside this place again tonight for me," she said, turning in place. "I hate that I like this room already."
The Doctor stood with his cane in hand, beard streaked dark where old blood had dried into it. The shard in his chest pulsed once, dim and tired.
Elias pointed at the beard because anger needed somewhere to go.
"Is the blood part of the message, or are you just committed to bad first impressions?"
The Doctor touched the matted hair like he had forgotten it existed.
"Bits of blood, yes, and not important tonight," the Doctor said, though his hand stayed on the stained part of his beard.
"That answer makes it sound more important now," Elias said.
"Most true things usually do eventually, but tonight has a narrower purpose."
Elias took a step closer. His ribs did not hurt here, which made him trust the place less.
"You have been vague, dramatic, and responsible for more questions than answers. If this is another performance, skip to the part where you tell us what breaks next."
Dot bristled. "Elias, he is trying to help us tonight."
The Doctor raised one hand.
"No, he is right, because I wasted too much of his first day. You have been beaten, scanned, contained, and asked to trust people who do not trust you, which earns directness."
His tone changed, and the blue space changed with it. Light folded outward in rectangular sheets. Each sheet carried a blurred mark, a number, or a moving piece of Elias's day.
Yui's strike replayed across one sheet while the springs formed and broke on another. The scan lines under Elias's ribs pulsed beside Colby's little cyclone, still turning in place.
The Doctor leaned more weight onto his cane. The old blood in his beard had dried in uneven clumps, and the tired pulse in his shard made the blue space feel less permanent than before.
"Twenty four hours have passed, so let us see what survival bought you."