THE THIRD CORRIDOR
By
Angel Lynn
© copyright April 2004, Angela Bishop
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright April 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
Prelude
~ Play Possum ~
"...to pretend to be asleep,
dead, or unaware..."
- Webster’s New World Dictionary, Third Edition
"What’s happening?" Garret pulled the reciprocator from his head, dropping it to the floor as he rose quickly from the cot. The standby medical team immediately began their protocol examination, drawing fluids, checking for physical changes, and a barrage of questions to determine his mental status.
"What’s your name? Where are you? How many fingers…"
Garret pushed them aside, and approached the habiliment, a large computer panel displaying rapidly changing numerical readouts. Just above a keyboard, a Kineto-Neural Optic Emission, or KNOE scanner, displayed a variegated, three-dimensional brain image surrounded by a near translucent skull.
Melissa turned her head to acknowledge Garret, allowing her eyes to momentarily leave the KNOE. "Your adrenaline levels were elevating and your heart rate was almost to a hundred and ninety. Your vitals were at critical levels. I had to reanimate you."
Garret bent over the console. He scanned the screen in front of him.
Melissa glanced upward again. "You’re bleeding."
Garret touched his forehead and looked at the blood on his fingers. "What happened? Did I hit my head?"
"You tell me. That wound formed just before I disengaged the signal." Melissa was calm and professional, her eyes scrutinizing the monitor, and her fingers rapidly tapping at the keypad.
"How badly is she injured?"
"She has a mild concussion." Melissa pointed at the screen, which now presented a cross sectioned scan of a brain. A series of numbers was registering at the lateral sides of the KNOE.
Melissa traced her finger along the brain composite, stopping at the frontal lobe. "These readings are puzzling, though. Her serotonin levels are elevated and steady, but only briefly did they correlate with the same desynchronized beta waves you were projecting during rapid eye movements. However, I am now receiving high frequency beta waves from the frontal and parietal lobes."
"A neuropathy perhaps?"
"No, all neuronal transmissions are functioning normally, but she seems to be creating memories we typically find during alert wakefulness." Melissa stopped tapping the keyboard to look at Garret. "It’s as though she’s in an altered state of awareness, the same readouts the scientists recorded when conducting this experiment before."
She turned back to the screen touching it several times until a full body-scan appeared. She pointed to a deeply reddened area across the figure’s left shoulder.
"What is that, a fracture?" Garret asked, touching an area on the screen.
"No, it’s a physical wound," the staff physician interrupted. "Odd though, it is disappearing almost as rapidly as it appeared,"
He reached over Melissa’s shoulder and tapped the screen to view the scan of the skull. "The concussion seems to be subsiding, also at a high rate of speed. Interesting." He rubbed an index finger across his lips. He then picked up his blunted stylus and began scrawling notes into his palm recorder. "She’s stable. I see no reason not to continue."
"Should I try some cortex manipulations, Garret?" Melissa asked.
"No. I don’t want to alter her natural thought formations. It may obscure the details of any data we collect." Garret fingered an intravenous line, now detached from its tubing, positioned over the inside of his forearm. Then he abruptly turned to Melissa. "Ah Melissa, it was invigorating. It was like being trapped in a vortex. We were accelerating, spiraling in a violent whorl. I thought my brain was going to implode. Then the ground came rushing through the blackness with such force..."
His expression grew smug. "Good thing you pulled me out or my body parts would’ve been splattered all over this room." He touched his forehead again and looked at the blood, mindful of the horrifying tragedy that took place, terminating the experiment twelve years prior to this. Garret managed to convince the Committee on Research Expansion, or the C.O.R.E., to resurrect the project, but he was warned to move forward with great caution.
"I only had enough time to initiate emergency shut down with your transmitter," Melissa informed him. She continued to work without looking up. "The disconnection between the two reciprocators must have nullified the event. When you became disengaged it caused an interruption in her brain patterns. A good thing too. Probably saved her life."
Garret leaned over the back of Melissa and pressed his lips to her ear. "You chose me. How touching," he whispered. "I believe you would have let her die. Nemesis does persuade you."
Melissa shrugged him off of her. She hated his frequent references to the Greek gods as though they controlled destiny. "I’m not jealous, Garret, and this is no joke. We need to re-examine this. If anything happens to either of you, the C.O.R.E will shut this study down for good."
Garret stood erect. "Coordinate my headset. I’m reconnecting with her."
"I can calibrate her readouts to your headset, but it may take you awhile to re-engage with her."
"Do it." Garret turned toward his cot, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and Melissa, don’t abort under any circumstance. Not until the full eight hours has expired."
"But Garret..." Melissa ceased her calculations to object.
"That’s an order Captain." He stifled her protest with his authoritative command.
Melissa snapped her teeth shut and jutted her chin forward. "Yes sir."
Chapter One
Hold tight Sera. The best is yet to come…
Sera was dizzy, and her vision was blurred. Her head was pounding, and she was sick to her stomach. She crawled to the top of a small, grassy hill to distance herself from the fire. Breathing heavily, she propped herself up on her forearms and knees. The top of her head touched the dirt and she looked beneath her body. She caught an upside down glimpse of smoke pouring out from the treetops in the forest behind her. Sera attempted to get to her feet, but couldn’t gather enough stability to rise. Her throat and her chest screamed with rawness as she gasped for air. She feared that if she tried to breathe deeply she might vomit. On her left shoulder, her military insignia had been torn completely off of her waist length, khaki jacket. She had no tags on her, and it occurred to her that should she die, it might be difficult to identify her corpse--if she was ever found. The tear revealed a hefty abrasion on her shoulder, not fatal, but it was bleeding. The others had not been so lucky. Before her egress from the craft, she had regrettably viewed the mangled flesh that had once been her crew. It was a ghastly sight, one that Sera would put out of her mind quickly.
A sudden explosion interrupted her thoughts. Sera’s body lurched forward. Flames savagely propelled upward, tearing a burning path through the tranquil sky. There would be nothing left but traces of ash. She felt a terrible pang in her chest. Her heart crushed with the agony of being stranded on an unknown planet. Yet, even in this moment of despair, Sera had the clarity of mind to realize her location on the hill placed her in plain view of any potential enemy, and that the smell of her blood might make her prey to some unforeseen creature. Her own safety was in question now.
Several yards ahead, and slightly to her right, there was a cluster of trees and bushes. Through it, Sera thought she could see a body of water. Forcing herself to her feet, she stumbled into the bushes. Once she was wrapped within the re
fuge of the thicket, she unzipped her jacket, removed it and collapsed to the ground. She used her crumpled jacket to rest her head, relatively sure that she was at least somewhat concealed from the possible dangers that lurked about. Sera looked toward the area she had just crawled away from. Smoke continued to billow forth in the distance. She watched despondently. Sera was alone. She needed to contemplate what her next course of action should be.
Sera lifted her head to survey the landscape, but because of her hazy vision she found it quite difficult. Squinting, she could see that the forest gave way to a horizon of far reaching, grassy lowlands, and she scanned the area, her attention suddenly drawn to a point in the distance. There was something moving across the land that looked much like a horse and rider. But her glimpse of it was a brief one, because the image vanished beneath the crest of the hill. With a steadfast gaze, she watched, and when it didn’t reappear, she assumed it was a hallucination.
The sun was positioned just above the trees and Sera figured that it was late in the morning. She closed her eyes and forced them open again. It was imperative that she stay awake for her own protection.
Don’t fall asleep, she warned herself silently, attempting to sit, but she was stiff with exhaustion. Her body wouldn’t move and her mind relented the attempt to make it try. She inhaled deeply, noticing the slight aroma of eucalyptus and magnolia. The scent, along with the tepid, clean smelling air was soothing. Unconsciously, Sera closed her eyes.
Just for a minute…only for a minute.
Her thoughts drifted and her body felt like it was being tossed around on an ocean surf, rocking and spinning, coiling up, then down, her mind snapping back to reality for fleeting moments. She fell asleep, and the truth of what was happening to her became a distant reality.
Sera had no idea how long she’d slept. What she did know, when she started to wake, was that her throat was parched, her lips were cracked, and she was unbearably thirsty. Rolling to her back with a groan, Sera forced her eyes to open and found herself staring directly into the sun. The intense rays were piercing, painful almost, and she squeezed her lids. Her head was still throbbing, and her thoughts remained clouded, and although the ground continued to waver beneath her, Sera knew she had to get up. Pushing herself onto one elbow, and shielding her brow with her other, she took a look around. Bursts of light from staring into the sun were still hindering her vision, but through them, much closer than the first image, she again spied the blurred image of a horse and rider. Sera sat upright, grunting with the effort it took to do so. She rubbed her face, and then vigorously scratched her scalp. When she looked up again, the figure was gone.
This bump to my head must be tricking my eye sight.
Sera tried to clear her mind. What she remembered was tumbling out of control before her fall was abruptly terminated by her collision with the ground. She attempted to recall the objectives of her mission, but it was to no avail. Her head held only fleeting pictures of where she had come from. She did not know the name of her ship. She could not visualize the faces, or recall the names of any of her crew. Even the images of their ruined bodies seemed to be disappearing from her thoughts with unusual ease. Her mind felt like an empty void.
Oh my god. I’ve lost my memory.
Sera rubbed her forehead and then rose to her feet, stretching her back and limbs. Every muscle in her body tightened and pulled in the opposite direction. She was incredibly stiff and sore. She took a deep breath. Her nausea was subsiding, but her brain was still banging against her skull.
Sera smacked her lips, looking toward the water, hoping it wasn’t noxious. When she bent to pick up her jacket, she heard a whinny, and froze in her bowed position, her sense of hearing perking to full alert. She heard it again. It was the unmistakable sound of a horse. Her eyes widened as she lifted her head only slightly without rising--four hooves. Her head tipped back and Sera looked up. There before her, a horse and its rider stood motionless.
Sera blinked.
Maybe it would disappear again.
It didn’t. This was not a mirage. Sera straightened apprehensively, unsure if the nature of the encounter would be passive or aggressive. She quickly put on her jacket, the sudden motion causing her to sway in her upright stance. An intense feeling of blood rushing from her brain overcame her, but Sera fought to sustain her equilibrium. She needed to maintain control. It was imperative that she not alert the stranger that her physical condition might make her vulnerable to capture.
There was no movement between either of them for quite some time. It was as though one was attempting to ascertain the other’s purpose. Sera observed that he was definitely male, or an unusually masculine woman. On his head he wore a black, cloth hood and a heavily meshed mask that hid his face. The bib of the hood draped his collar bones and was fastened in place by a leather gorget. The remainder of the hood protruded from beneath it. His gauntlet style gloves were thick and black. They, like the gorget, appeared to be made of leather, and were fastened with a single buckle. He wore a sea blue, hip length doublet, opened in front, and a tattered white shirt beneath. His colours were displayed on the left, upper front section of the overcoat. There was a darker blue crest of some sort, with a golden band angled across it. The band bore a lavender bloom that resembled a rose, and one of its pedals was pierced with an embroidered gold ring.
Sera slowly moved around him. His horse shuffled from side to side, and whinnied. There was a larger emblem, a coat of arms, centered on the back of the vestment, an oval frame entwined with ivy and a heraldic escutcheon centered on it. Three bands angled across it, one gold, one green and one red. Five blooms were positioned around its border. A lavender bloom, the same as the one on the front, was placed at the uppermost point. On the left point, the bloom was yellow, and a white one at the right point. Closer to the bottom tip, where the emblem bowed inward, there was a red bloom on the left, and an orange bloom on the right. Just below the bottom tip, there were three overlapping gold rings.
Around his waist, he wore a military belt. It was black and wide. An immense, double-edged sword and a smaller dagger, nestled in their sheaths, were hooked to the belt. His thickly woven trousers were ashen colored, and hugged powerful looking thighs. The trousers were tucked into heavy, calf length, black leather boots, buckled with three straps. More of the stranger’s equipment was hooked to the saddle. A loop held a lance, broken and splintered nearly to its handle. There was a sack, a canteen, a bow and quiver with arrows. A badly dented breastplate and metal shield were both embellished with his crest. The ensemble looked antiquated. It had a medieval quality, and was definitely worn for battle.
His horse was a mighty brown charger, with a dense flank that was supported by sturdy, robust limbs. Its back was higher than the top of Sera’s head. The bridle on the horse was trimmed in similar manner as the stranger’s clothing. The headband was blue adorned with a lavender bloom patch. An actual gold ring pierced the embroidered flower. The cheek straps were gold colored with fringe gracing their length. Beneath the saddle, the body of the horse was draped from shoulder to tail in an elegant, but frazzled blanket, colored in a lozenge of blue and gold.
Sera carefully considered her options. Should she try to communication, or should she retreat? Did he want something from her? At first, Sera found his stillness baffling, until she noticed that the knight was wounded. A large tear in the right side of his jacket was saturated with blood.
The horse neighed, and pounded its hoof into the ground, bucked slightly then pounded its hoof again. It appeared distressed. Sera was about to speak when without anticipating it, the horseman suddenly began to sway, and he fell, hitting the ground with such force that Sera was sure he had broken his neck. The stranger lay immobile, flat on his back. For several moments, Sera stood still. She couldn’t abandon him. Whether or not he was friend or foe, didn‘t matter. He clearly needed help. She approached him cautiously however, suspicious that his actions might be feigned, watching his chest expand and def
late. His breathing was rapid, but shallow, a clear indication he was in distress. Stooping, Sera started to remove the hood from his head, but his hand suddenly clasped her ankle, startling her. Sera shrieked and yanked away from him. She fell to her bottom and scuttered backwards, stopping when she was out of his reach.
"ydor to..." He held out his arm pointing toward his horse.
Sera understood his words but it was a language different from her own. She turned her attention to his horse and approached it.
Nice horsey. Now be still a moment. Sera stroked its mane cautiously, hoping it didn’t bite. When the beast shifted its head to merely look at her, Sera reached up and pulled the canteen from a clip at the side of the saddle. She yanked the cap and the corked cap sealing it popped free. She shook it and then tipped it sideways. The canteen was empty.
Well, I hope that water is safe.
With the canteen in her hand she started for the bank. The charger followed along side her. I’ll just have to assume it is. Maybe it’s why the knight came this way.
When they reached the water’s edge she found a rocky stream perhaps ten feet wide and about three or four feet in depth at its deepest part. The water was crystal clear.
It looks clean enough.
The horse dipped its head and started to drink, and Sera nodded, taking it as a sign that the water was safe, at least for the beast, probably for this land’s inhabitants, and hopefully for her, as well. She filled the canteen, catching water streaming over one of the rocks, and returned to the knight.
He was pale and his lips were chalky, and he wasn’t breathing.
Sera felt for a pulse.
There was none.
She dropped the canteen, and briefly began to panic. But then, without even realizing it, her reactions became automatic. She pulled off his hood, checked his mouth for obstruction and then sealed her mouth against his, pumping her breath into him. She then laboriously compressed his chest, counting…
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