man smiled. “Nobody has ever seen anything quite the like what you did. You’re the talk of the station.”
“The station?”
“You’re on the space station.”
“I am?”
“Yes... Freedom fifteen.”
“People... are... talking... about me?”
“Oh yes. You’re almost certainly the most famous person on the station right now.”
“I am?”
“The first true Earth representative to visit the station in: well a very long time; and what an arrival. Everybody from the Procul to the news services are fighting each other to talk to you.”
“To me?”
“Such excitement.” He seemed to remember, and his voice became sadder. “Such a shame; all those people died: and you almost. It’s amazing that your craft didn’t explode.”
“Basilisk?” He said anxiously.
“Who…?” The man said in a puzzled voice.
Nicholas’s head was aching; each word seemed such an effort to utter. “My space ship.”
“Your spacecraft?” The man said nodding. “It was very badly damaged. It was taken to one of the maintenance areas. I’m told it looks: like a heap of scrap… Sorry you probably don’t want to know that, do you? I’m told the maintenance crews are amazed it held together, apparently nobody has ever seen anything like it. They want to know where it came from?”
He felt strangely sad; it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he could do nothing about it now. “Were there any other survivors?”
“Some. It’s a miracle that there were any at all. Your shot was unbelievable luck… I mean it was amazingly accurate. They say that the stations duty flight controller was screaming at the Drakken to stand down so much, that he lost his voice. Everybody was absolutely certain you were a goner. Then you put that last shot in and, poofff no more Drakken…” His attitude changed as if he realized his indiscretion. “Not that that’s a good thing… it’s really very bad, but…. it was quite a show.”
A more authoritative voice interrupted. “I see the patient is conscious.”
Nicholas saw an older man step up behind the medic. He took hold of Nicholas’s wrist and looked at his arm intently before he looked at Nicholas. “Well Mr. Day, your arm looks as if it’s on the way to mend. Initially there will be a bit of tenderness, and it may be extra sensitive to heat for some time to come, but hopefully there should be no lasting problems.”
“Thank you,” he said meekly.
“I will write a script for a lotion, and you will need to keep the wound clean and dry. I will make an appointment for you to have it checked in four days’ time.”
“Thank you,” Nicholas said again.
“Oh...” The doctor seemed to remember. “There’s a visitor outside; if you feel well enough to having one?” He walked to the bottom of the bed and picked up a data tablet.
Nicholas immediately thought of Reigel. He suddenly felt proven; he had faced the Drakken, and won. Then the thought of having to tell him that he had destroyed Basilisk entered his mind. He didn’t relish that, but most of all he wanted to thank Reigel for having faith in him. “Yes, send him in.”
The doctor tilted his head to the medic. “I want him to stay here overnight.” He looked at Nicholas. “I’ll be back in the morning, and if nothing has changed I’ll probably discharge you. In fact I may have to anyway; apparently a lot of people are waiting to talk to you.” He replaced the pad, smiled and walked away.
Nicholas gingerly put his hands on the mattress and pushed himself up so that he had his back to the bed head. He straightened the sheet, and looked at the door. A young woman was stood watching him in undisguised amusement. She smiled, and his heart felt as if it stopped. “Harriet?” He said in disbelief; that was quickly swept away by overwhelming joy.
The smile on her face chased away all the doubts that were in his mind. “You were expecting someone else?” she said mocking him.
“No, no, Yes... I thought?” He pulled back the sheet and was swinging his feet over the side of the bed.
“Stay where you are.” She said sternly as she walked over to him and pushed his feet back before she sat on the edge of the mattress. For several seconds they just looked at each other; then she reached out her hand and tenderly touched his cheek. Nicholas took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “I heard what you said to me,” she almost whispered.
A feeling of embarrassment flooded him, but almost immediately it was gone. He didn’t care that she had; in fact he was glad she had. The years of awkwardness around girls: the times he wanted to impress and just felt too shy melted away. “I meant every word,” he said seriously. “…And I will tell you again and again; every moment, of every day, if you only give me the chance.”
“I will, and I expect you too keep that promise,” she said softly.
He pushed his returning shyness aside. “I used to doubt my mother when she told me that one day I would meet someone, and instantly know that I had found the one: but she was right. Harriet...” suddenly he was losing courage. “…I know we have barely had time to start to know each other but, I have fallen in… love with you.”
She said nothing, but her look told him everything he wanted to hear. Then she leaned towards him.
It was some time before their lips parted, and then he could not let her go; and just pulled his shoulders and head back away enough that they could see each other. “I wanted to die, when I thought you were….”
“Dead?” she said pointedly. “Apparently I was, or as good as.”
“Then how….”
“I don’t know, other than by amazing fortune. I remember the pain of the sword, then everything became very hazy; it was as if only fragments happened. The only thing I remember with any clarity was you leaning over me. You were putting the ring on my finger and I felt a warmth seep up from my hand that seemed to nourish both my mind and body. If felt no more pain or fear and I remember thinking that I would not die. I wanted to tell you, …you sounded so sad, and then you said…” She stopped and looked coyly at him. “I desperately wanted to kiss you.”
Nicholas went to pull her face to his, but smiling she drew teasingly away. “When you had gone, it was all I could hear in the dark. I kept hearing you say it over and over for a long, long time. Then I woke up and Victoria and Malcome were tending me. Oh…Malcome is a physician, and Victoria is...” She hesitated, partly to take a breath. “She calls herself a paramedic; apparently that is some special type of physician.” She looked at him for recognition, but there was none. “Maybe she is some kind of surgeon? But the amazing thing, the really amazing part is that Victoria is related to me.” Harriet stopped shaking her head in bewilderment and then smiled in a conspiratorial way. “Do you think a paramedic could be a more experienced physician? I formed an impression that it was Victoria who was leading Malcome.” She shrugged again “Whoever was leading whoever, together they worked a miracle.” She felt him go tense. “What’s the matter?”
Nicholas’s mind was suddenly in turmoil. One miracle of resurrection was indeed a miracle, but two were beyond a coincidence. “I don’t want to think of you…. Dying.” He said truthfully.
She squeezed his hand and smiled.
“I was so certain…” His words were cut short as he felt the ring in his palm. “Here.” She said folding his fingers clenched shut. “It was your mothers?”
“No.” He said grasping her hand by her thin fingers and placed the ring back on. “I want you to have it. I want to share everything with you.” He tried to put it on her marriage finger but it wouldn’t fit so he slipped it along her index finger. In the shadow between their bodies the stone suddenly blazed in colour.” The noise that came out of his throat was not a word, but more a reaction as he looked quickly up into her face. “It’s you?”
Harriet looked up at him almost apologetically. “I’m sorry Nicholas. Victoria told me when I awoke; please understand…”
He was smil
ing. “I don’t mind that it was never me?” but then his smile faded.
“Then what’s wrong?” She said anxiously.
“If your… I can’t... I am only a provider’s son, and I am no longer that. I have nothing.”
Harriet looked at him sternly. “Do you love me?”
“Yes, I do.”
Her lips showed a smile. “Then you should know how serious it is breaking your word to me? If you don’t ask me to marry you, then I will have no option but to have you arrested for treason.”
“But I...”
She pressed her finger to his mouth. No buts; no talking; lips are just for kissing.”
Other novels and stories by John Stevenson can be found by visiting
www.caelin-day.com
www.Australianstoryteller.com
www.Australianstorywriter.com
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