Swan says he’s been there for a thousand years, but it could’ve been two days. Jane, unfortunately wouldn’t know either; and as before, the door was locked and nobody was leaving. We didn’t need to leave—Jane let me finish what Swan was saying. Swan, leaned against the far wall and sunk to the floor, there was nothing to say. The machine was asleep and if it awoke, we’d all be dead in the morning.
The next day rose and there wasn’t a single ceiling creak, it meant the machine was still sleeping, and obviously no one was dead. Jane continued to count her fingers, was this a productive thing to do? Well it hardly mattered because no one was getting out of this room. Perhaps, let’s wake the machine, it’ll come and destroy us, or at least provide the opportunity for the door. Swan began yelling upward towards the ceiling. Jane told her, kneel, and get on shoulders, Swan did, and Jane rose on her shoulders and began smacking the ceiling with her hands and shouting. They both were shouting, shouting at the top of their lungs.
Finally there was a creak in the ceiling floor. Swan and Jane became silent. Shhhhhh. And then there was another creak, then another, and another. Swan placed Jane back onto the floor. They stared wide eyed into each other’s faces as the ceiling creaked more and more. We’re going to be dead, no we’re not, we’re waiting to see this thing open the door.
They waited, and waited. Nothing came to the door.