Ninator Kermada picks up the chalk and rubs it between his fingers until the ends turn white. His good eye scans the concrete: that final 15×15 grid, etched in lines of white that he himself drew upon this wall many months ago, looms before him. The grid is half-filled with letters, hastily written, forming words, phrases - concepts and ideas, reduced to their individual letters - their raw linguistic ingredients. He looks at the spaces already filled:
One across, IAMB - a purposely misleading synonym for 'foot' that the folks at poetry club would appreciate, he thinks to himself. Two down: AMANDINE - Nina never really spoke to the man, but nevertheless admired him a great deal. Enough to make it in the crossword, at least - most aren't so lucky. Thirty-five across: PARCEL - it may be a long time before he'll have to deliver another one of those. A relief, to some extent, and yet Nina always enjoyed their role as a courier. It made them feel useful. It gave them a purpose.
After a few moments of admiring the letters already up on the grids, he starts to solve the rest of the clues. He might as well enjoy it. After all, it's the last one he may be able to complete for a while. The chalk scratches against the dull concrete as Nina fills in more and more squares. Eight down: “Stab wildly around first organ; time for destruction!” Eight letters. Child's play, Nina thinks to themself. Obviously, an anagram for 'stab', surrounding the first letter of 'organ' followed by another word for 'time' to give a synonym for destruction: SABOTAGE. As Nina fills in the last E, he is suddenly reminded of that night - the slashed brakes - the train hurtling out of the station…
He blinks, and the image vanishes. Nina breathes a sigh of relief. He's back in his quarters, that hidden alcove in Nidus Station, with the crossword sketched out in front of him. He continues. Thirty-seven down: LUNA. Forty-three across: MIRAX. Fourteen across: LAMB. Twenty-two across: TAKES AIM. Seven down: ACADEMIA.
The chalk hovers over the first square of nineteen down: “Love affair follows good luck charm”. Seven letters. Nina sighs, as he slowly writes in the answer: G - L - A - M - O - U - R.
He completes the last few clues slowly and systematically: ACE, CREMATE, OASTS, CANTEENS, GENTLEST… Eventually Nina is left with one final clue, its central letter already in place. Thirty-nine down: “Revolutionary three points”. Three letters. He takes the last of the chalk, worn down to a mere stub, and fills in the last two letters, forming the final world: NEW. He smiles to himself. And what a grand new world it is.
Nina turns to gather the last of his things, prepared, finally, to leave this sacred little alcove behind for good. But as he goes to squeeze through the recess that leads out into Nidus Station, he stops in his tracks. He turns his head back towards the wall - towards the crossword. It… it can't be… he thinks. He walks over to the wall and traces his finger down the leading diagonal, from the 'I' in IAMB down to the 'A' in LUNA. And there it is, clear as day:
IM SORRY KATRINA.
… What a remarkable coincidence.
Nina turns away once more, and thinks nothing more of it.
Written by Matt S.
The desert is a wide, unfriendly expanse. A jerboa skips across a dune nearby. Sand beats against the two couriers with each whip of the wind, who proceed doggedly, as if not bothered by the conditions at all; they have seen much worse, and seen this particular stretch many times. The fear fades with each trip. The novelty doesn’t.
“Oo, okay, I’ve got another one for you.”
“Alright, shoot.”
Cruciver coughs, clearing his throat. “According to hearsay, fear ends in the Underground. Seven letters.”
“Ah, that one’s easy.” Nina smiles, despite Cruciver’s huff at his having solved the clue so quickly. “It’s what we’re going back for.”