Forcing herself to her feet, she takes advantage of the fact that her own intercom is still working (Davies' having been disconnected), and pleads with the bridge crew to somehow stop Nick.
Playing on a combination of what she hopes is their visceral dislike of giving people to the Amnion, and Nick's own unpredictability which, she says, might see any of them being given to the Amnion at some point, she cajoles and argues at them, unaware that Nick is already in their presence to counteract any argument she might make.
Discovering that he was there, that his confidence was strong enough to let her make her plea to the crew unopposed, she snaps, and begins screaming until, her intercom shut down, her very voice gives in.
(It's this kind of thing that often makes me view Morn somewhat unsympathetically. These mindless breakdowns that make me think of Linden for some reason. Sometimes I just want to tell herself to pull herself together.)
Still, screaming done, she calms down and starts to think. She knows that she has time. The Amnion won't be close enough for nearly 12 hours, so she has that amount of time to come up with, and execute, a plan.
Without knowing why, she moves to where she can see the intercom indicator lights, and settles in to wait. (Again...why didn't she know? Seems a bit deus ex)A lot could happen in 12 hours. Entire lives might be won or lost. Hope and ruin could be as quick as gap-sickness.
Regardless, by the time the intercom light comes on, revealing that Nick is trying to listen in on her, it seems she knows what she is going to do. Whimpering and mewling until the light goes back off, she jump up and gathers all the loose items she can find, then returns to waiting in front of the intercom, taking comfort in the knowledge that this waiting was the best she could possibly do for Davies right now.
The next time the intercom comes on, she begins sobbing, hurling the onjects around the room, and panting Nick's name, battering the walls with a chair when she runs out of things to throw.
The intercom switches off again, and again she takes action. Gathering clothing and bedding, she blocks the toilet and the drains in the shower and basin, turns on all the taps, and wedges the flush button down, causing water to begin flooding the floor, and alarms to begin going off.
By doing so, she's made it necessary for Nick to come and stop her, lest she think up something really damaging to do, like set fire to things.
Nick duly appears, and in the face of the rage she brings to bear against him, uses the zone implant control to make her catatonic. Not knowing, of course, that she has disabled this particular function.
Leaving the control in the cabin with her, to ensure it's signal remains close enough to affect her, he leaves again, giving Morn what she was after all along.
For all the good it does her.
She uses the control to ameliorate the effects of her injuries, her tiredness, her fear. She uses it to ease the pangs of her zone implant addiction. And then she looks at herself in the mirror, and is appalled.
But she had the control box now. No matter what else. Her next step was to find a way out of the cabin.Her zone implant didn't free her from her limitations. It merely gave her the capacity to push herself past the boundaries of her own survival.
Using the implant to boost her adrenaline and strength, she tries to force open the door enough to kick the over-ride in. But even trying to slide the door with enough force to tear the skin off her hands, it doesn't work.
She is still stuck.
Devastated, she eventually comes up with the idea of killing Nick. Arming herself with the nail file hitherto jamming down the flush button, she tunes her reactions to a fever pitch, but now finds herself unable to wait patiently.
She can't wait while she's all jacked up, but she can't dial it down otherwise she won't be able to take Nick by surprise when he comes back.
She collapsed sobbing. The only thing she could think of doing was to turn off the zone implant, and hope to regain the cold cunning state in which she had known what to do. And she couldn't do it.There was no way out. The gap between what she needed and what she could do was impassable/
Finally, unaware of what she could do, bereft of the balm of her zone implant, she simply sits, playing with her hair while the time slips away. Ignorant of any hope or plan even when her door opens, and Sib Mackern slips into the room, closing it behind him...Only her zone implant was keeping her alive. Nothing but its emissions protected her from the consequences of rape and gap-sickness, treason and bereavement...If she turned off her black box, she would be left defenceless in the face of what she had become.
But she had to do it. There was no other way across the gap.
In silent grief, as if she had come to the end of herself, she began to cancel the functions of her black box one at a time.
--A
