by J. N. Chaney
“Right,” muttered Terry. “Thanks for the help.”
The stranger tilted his head, a confused look on his face. “Bfec?” He pointed at his own chest and again at Terry. “Wnaaq!”
Terry opened his mouth to say he didn’t understand, but paused when he felt something warm sliding down his chest. He glanced down and saw a patch of blood expanding beneath his shirt. He covered the gash with his hand, trying to put pressure on it. But the blood washed over his fingers, dripping to the ground.
Suddenly, he was dizzy. He wanted to lie down. The light of the valley was growing darker, as if a thick cloud had passed overhead, blocking out the suns. He stumbled back, then fell on his side.
The man in red rushed to him. He muttered more nonsense before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small vial of purple liquid. He showed it to Terry and pointed at his chest. Terry nodded, and the man poured half the bottle on his wound and motioned for him to drink the rest. Terry did, and it tasted like fire, burning his chest and igniting his throat. He coughed and screamed. The pain filled every piece of him. This wasn’t medicine. It was poison. He should have listened to Janice when he had the chance.
Terry gripped the man’s sleeve and pulled him close. “What did you do?” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “You bastard! You’re killing me!”
******
Ortego Reconstruction Outpost
April 25, 2350
Mei drifted in the night like a ship lost at sea, immersed in the void for what felt like an eternity.
She wandered in it for a while, alone. There was a fog there, too, invisible, but thick and choking the air from her lungs. She cried desperately for some relief, feeling for a hand but never finding one.
Buried in the night, however, she thought she saw a figure, always at the edge of her sight. He eluded her, a child with a shrouded face. “Abandoner,” he said with a voice like running water. “You killed me in that tower. Left me there to die.”
“No…” she said, knowing it was a lie.
The figure appeared before her now, a blurry face in an old school uniform. Next to him, another child, this one with blood on his chest, oozing out and dripping on the ground. “Mei the Killer,” they said together. “Murdered us both and now we’re dead.”
She ran toward them, but no matter how fast she went, she never got any closer. “I can save you,” she said, trying to scream.
The boy with the blood in his chest laughed. “Bullet for the bitch,” he cackled. “Stabbed me in the chest and threw me off a rafter.”
Alex, she thought, but before she could say his name, he disappeared, leaving the other boy alone. “Who are you?” she begged to know.
The boy with the blurry face laughed, and suddenly the darkness behind him opened, and the machine from the Ortego building appeared. “I have to go away,” he told her. He walked to the console at the base of the machine and flipped the switch.
Mei’s eyes widened. She screamed at him to stop. “I can fix it,” she cried. “Terry, wait!”
But it was no use. The rift expanded and consumed him, filling the sky and eating the world. She had killed them all.
Mei awoke, drenched in sweat. The blanket and the bed were soaked, and it smelled foul and sour. She looked down to see a puddle of urine in her lap. Fantastic.
She climbed out of the sheets and gathered them together, along with the clothes she was wearing. She hadn’t peed the bed since she was six.
How embarrassing.
But at least she felt better now. She rolled the sheets and blankets along with her clothes, then placed them in a laundry bag. She’d wash them after she showered. Hopefully no one would find out about this.
She slipped on some fresh clothes and flipped the mattress to hide the stains. First stop was the latrine tent. She couldn’t wait.
With a robe on and a towel in her hand, she walked briskly across the camp to the showers. As she approached the tent, however, Sophie emerged.
“Doctor Curie!” exclaimed her assistant. “When did you wake up? Doctor Tabata was supposed to keep me updated.”
Mei stopped cold in her tracks. “I’m okay, thanks,” she said quickly.
Sophie examined her. “You look much better, ma’am. I’m so relieved.”
“Thank you,” said Mei, trying to keep her answers short and to the point. Let me by, Sophie, please.
“We were about to have a meeting, actually. I was getting ready to head there now. Did you want to join us?”
“Go ahead without me. You and I can go over the details later. Right now I need to shower and use the bathroom.”
“Oh,” said Sophie, looking her over. “I apologize for keeping you. Please go ahead, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” said Mei, sliding past her. “We’ll talk later.”
Mei ran into the shower and turned the water on. She didn’t bother waiting for it to heat up all the way. The sooner she got rid of this filthy stench, the better. She pressed the soap dispenser button and a small glob eased onto her palm. She clasped her hands and scrubbed her body. Consumption policy stated each person was only supposed to consume an ounce of soap per shower, but Mei didn’t care right now. She used the dispenser half a dozen more times before she was finished. Even then, she didn’t feel clean.
After the shower, Mei grabbed her towel and returned to her tent. She dried and dressed herself, then sat in the chair facing her bed. She could still smell the piss. It filled the entire room with its pungent musk, a persisting reminder of what she’d done.
She grabbed her pad and called Sophie. It only rang twice before her assistant answered. “Ma’am, is everything alright?”
“Fine,” said Mei. “What time are we meeting to go over everything?”
“How does 1700 sound?”
Mei glanced at the clock in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. It currently read 12:57. “Make it 1330. I’ll meet you in the conference room.” She ended the call before Sophie could answer, placed the pad on the small table nearby, and covered her face with her hands.
A brief moment later, John came running into the room. “Mei?” he said, barreling in. He spotted her in the bed. “It’s true! You’re awake!”
He ran to her side and embraced her tight, squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe. She patted his back. “Okay, okay,” she managed to say.
He released her, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” He had the widest smile she’d ever seen on his face.
It made her laugh. “Thanks, dear.”
He hugged her again.
“What’s the deal with everybody today? You’re acting like I disappeared.”
He frowned. “You were sick. You had a fever, and it got kind of bad.”
This was news to her. “How long was I asleep?”
“A few days,” he said.
Her mouth fell open. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “Tabata suggested a blood transfusion, but he wasn’t sure if it would work, but it looks like he was right. You seem great!”
A blood transfusion? Had it really been so serious? Mei grabbed her pad and looked at the date. April 25, 2350. She could hardly believe it.
“One sec,” said John, still grinning. He ran outside and returned a few moments later with Doctor Tabata. “Check it out, Doc.”
Tabata nodded. “Good. Let’s have a look at you, Doctor Curie.” He retrieved a digital thermometer. “Open wide.”
She grabbed the thermometer out of his hand. “I’ll do it, thanks,” she said, placing it under her tongue. A few seconds later it beeped. She handed it back to him.
“Looks good. I’ll have to run a few tests on the rest of you, but overall you seem to be doing much better.”
“I should think so, since I’m no longer in a coma,” she said.
“It was hardly a coma,” said Tabata.
A loud thunderous boom shook the ground, startling
everyone.
“What was that?” asked Mei.
Another identical sound followed. Mei nearly fell out of her bed.
“What the hell is going on?” she yelled, getting to her feet.
She and John ran outside, and there was another sound, which shook the ground. It seemed to be coming from Bart’s workshop. Sophie soon emerged from the conference tent, where she had presumably been waiting for Mei to arrive. “What was…” said Sophie, but her words were drowned out by further noise.
“Sounds familiar!” yelled John. “Don’t you think?”
“Huh?” she asked.
“Listen to it! Don’t you remember?”
Mei tilted her head, trying to think. Thump. Thump. Thump. Ksst. The noise had a rhythm to it, like a machine. Yes, of course. It was the same sound she and John had heard when they first discovered this field all those years ago. “It’s a Fever Killer!”
John nodded. “Come on!” He grabbed her hand and led her to the back of Bart’s tent. Sophie followed behind them, a clueless look on her face.
They found Bart standing before the Fever Killer. It stood several meters tall, lording over them, pounding repeatedly into the ground. Bart kept his distance, wearing a pair of protective goggles. He didn’t seem to notice the others’ arrival.
“Bart!” yelled John.
He flinched at the sound of his own name before turning to see them. Clenching his teeth and clearly embarrassed, he grabbed his pad and powered off the machine. “Sorry! I didn’t think it would be this loud.”
“You nearly gave us all a heart attack,” said Sophie.
Doctor Tabata came jogging toward them. “Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Everyone’s fine, slow poke,” said John.
“I’m not as spry as you kids,” said Tabata.
“Always full of excuses,” said John. “Tsk tsk.”
“Are you sure it works now?” asked Mei.
Bart shrugged. “Maybe. It was only on for about thirty seconds.”
“Thirty seconds too long if you ask me,” muttered Tabata.
Mei examined the Fever Killer. Standing about four meters tall and towering above her, she could see how the rough metal casing was still worn from the events of three years ago. The coils themselves looked fairly new, which wasn’t surprising. She’d seen the originals shatter into pieces. Bart had scavenged what he could, but some parts had to be built from scratch.
This device had been the perfect excuse Mei needed to convince the board to let her bring a team here. Did this mean her work was finished? The mission certainly had other goals besides the Fever Killer.
Mei touched the device, sliding her hand against its rough surface. The radiation levels were rising, and they would soon swallow this entire area. With such a risk in sight and with the coil now secure and operational, the board might decide to recall her team sooner than expected. There was a very good chance she’d be on her way home tomorrow, all because of this machine.
“What is it, Mei?” asked John.
Sophie pointed to the coil. “She’s worried we’re going home early, because of this.”
Bart removed his protective goggles. “Hey, don’t blame the machine. It’s not the coil’s fault.”
“Yes, but the Framling Coil was the main reason Central greenlit the mission,” said Sophie. “With the rising risk of radiation, they’ll undoubtedly call us home.”
Bart frowned. “I worked really hard on this, and now you’re making me regret it.”
John put his arm around Bart’s shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. I can break it if you want. We can throw it on the ground and smash it together.”
“Or wait a few more days to tell them about it,” suggested Sophie.
John nodded. “Sure, sure,” he said, agreeably. He looked at Bart again. “Think about my offer and get back to me.”
“I’m confused,” said Tabata. “Has anyone solved the radiation problem? Because if not, there’s not much use in stalling the board.”
“We’re delaying in order to find a solution, sir,” said Sophie.
The doctor stroked his chin stubble. “My point is that even if you somehow manage to find one, you still need to implement it, which takes time. How long until the radiation reaches this campsite?”
Sophie pursed her lips. “Another ten days, maybe.”
“He’s right,” muttered Bart. “There’s not enough time.”
Nobody said anything for a few seconds. No doubt, their brains were hard at work trying to come up with an answer. Mei couldn’t help but do the same. Stalling. Maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s not enough time, she thought. The words swirled around in her mind. There was never enough time. If only she had a way to slow it down. If only she could halt the spread of the radiation for a while. She glanced at the coil again, saying nothing. The Fever Killer was a marvel of technology, capable of absorbing and redistributing energy more efficiently than anything to date. All it needed was heat energy and—
Her mouth fell open. Heat was part of the electromagnetic scale, just like gamma radiation. Depending on how the machine worked, it might actually be possible to…
John nudged her side. “Hey,” he whispered. “Got anything?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” she muttered.
“Ma’am?” said Bart.
She cast a sideways look at him. “Tell me, would it be possible to reconfigure this device to absorb something other than heat?”
He seemed confused. “I don’t know what you…” He paused, a look of realization overcoming him. “Yes…yes, I think so. It only depends what kind of energy we’re dealing with.”
“Would high frequency electromagnetism work?” she asked.
He thought for a moment. “Yeah, it should,” he said.
“What the hell are we talking about right now?” asked John.
“The solution we’ve been looking for,” said Mei. “Only it’s been here the whole time, staring at me and my big, stupid face.”
She flicked the case of Fever Killer, and it dinged.
Chapter 10
Doctor Mei Curie’s Personal Logs
Play Audio File 145
Recorded: April 25, 2350
CURIE: After hashing out the details, Bartholomew thinks my plan to use the Framling Coil to absorb gamma radiation instead of thermal may actually be sound. Given how they’re both electromagnetic energy, albeit on completely different ends of the spectrum, I’m honestly surprised I didn’t think of it sooner. I guess I’ve been a little distracted with everything that’s happened lately.
Regardless, Bart seems confident enough. I’m a little worried he’ll have trouble getting the coil to go from absorbing non-ionizing to ionizing radiation, but it might not matter at all. Right now it’s unclear whether this difference will affect how the coil operates. For all I know, it might not do anything at all.
I’ve asked the entire team to assist with the project. We only have a few more days before the board pulls us, and we’re forced to vacate the camp. We don’t have a lot of time here, which makes this our only shot.
End Audio File
Unknown
April 25, 2350
Terry awoke in the dark, tucked in a bed and unable to move. The pain was gone, but he could barely move his arms and legs. Sweat covered his forehead and cheeks, but it was somehow freezing cold.
He scanned the area and found he was indoors, alone in a small room with only a bed, a stool, and a window. Where the door should be, there was nothing but an open hallway.
He tried to speak, but coughed instead as he struggled to catch his breath. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “Hello?” he asked in a raw, hoarse voice that surprised him.
A small light appeared far in the distance. It moved along the hallway walls, bouncing and flickering while drawing closer to his room. “Who’s there?” he asked as the figure approached the arch
way.
The light bent and reflected off its wielder’s face, revealing the curves of a woman. She appeared to be bald.
“Where am I?” asked Terry.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she took a piece of dripping wet cloth from under Terry’s bed and dabbed his forehead. She worked her way along his neck and pulled the blanket down. There was a bandage covering the wound, which she avoided with the cloth, wiping the skin around it and returning the blanket to where it was before. She avoided looking at him, so he stared at her scalp. To his surprise, there were markings all over—tattoos by the look of them. None of the men had anything remotely similar, nor were any of them bald, so why this woman? Was it customary for the females of this world to shave their heads and wear such elaborate markings? The more he learned about these people, the stranger they seemed.
Once the woman finished cleaning him, she grabbed the small pail from under his bed and left him alone. Terry watched her go, not knowing what to say. He had to find a way to communicate with her, with all of them.
He closed his eyes, inviting sleep. It was the first time he’d been in a bed in three years. He might as well enjoy the experience while it lasted.
******
Unknown
April 26, 2350
Terry slept late into the morning. The light from the open window struck him hard as he opened his eyes. He squinted and flinched, turning on his side toward the wall next to the bed. He could hear what sounded like dishes clanking in the room down the hall, and amid the noise, a man’s voice speaking nonsense.
He planted his feet on the floor. He expected his chest to hurt from the wound when he moved, but nothing happened. Not even numbness from the medicine. When he touched the bandage around his wound, he felt it. Only the pain was gone. Remarkable.
He already knew his body could heal rather quickly, but it usually took a few days, and the pain always lingered for a while. A wound this size never healed overnight. Whatever the Man in Red had given him must have really done the trick. What else could it have been?
