Before:

     Niki fell into a routine.

     Sleep, food, then a dive into the cleansing pool.

​     On went the protective gear, followed by a few hours feeding the furnace. 

     After that, off came the protective gear for a quick swim, then lunch.

     An hour after that, back out of the pool, then back into the protective gear for a few more hours labor.

     Niki found that the task they gave her, in fact, kept her in great shape.

     After a certain point, that's how she perceived her imprisonment, as a form of exercise.

     And she never strayed too far away from the other human. 

     "What's your name?" she asked him once. She pointed a thumb at her own chest. "Niki. I'm Niki. Niki Creole."

​     The man looked at her without comprehension or a desire to comprehend.

     Another time, Niki passed him at the entrance leading to the mess hall.

     She grazed his arms with hers. "Hey. Hi. I'm Niki, remember?"

     He swiped her hand away with such a ferocity that Niki felt she might have to go on the defensive.

     But, instead, having brushed her off, he continued on his way.

     Sorry pal, Niki thought as she watched him fill his tray with food, but I need an ally. If I don't get through to you today, I'll get through to you tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that... 

CONTINUE