Authors: Rinelle Grey
T
HE RHYTHMIC
CLACK-CLACK, CLACK-CLACK
pulled Tyris from sleep.
He lay in a hard, scratchy bed, the light dim. He couldn’t see much, but his eyes were drawn to the only movement—a shape in the corner of the room. A girl sat at some sort of wheel, her hands moving surely, engrossed in her work. He watched her for a moment, his mind blank except for the sight in front of him.
Her dark hair hung past her shoulders and her young face, lit only by the light of a single lamp, was absorbed on the wheel in front of her. There was something appealing about the way she was completely focused on her work, not even aware that he was awake. She didn’t pause to check her phone, didn’t glance up at a television.
Memories crashed in on him. Milandra walking out, discovering the anysogen planet, the asteroid, and the Hylista’s power failing all flickered through his mind in seconds, tumbling over each other in a confused jumble.
He struggled to sit up, his hands tangling in the blankets. “Where am I? Where’s my ship?”
The girl’s hands dropped from the wheel, and she hurried to his side. “Shh.” She eased him back onto the pillows, her skin cool where it touched his.
The pain that had flared when he moved convinced him to lie back on the pillows. He reached up to feel his head, encountering a bandage instead. “What happened?”
“You bumped your head quite hard. Don’t try to get up. You’re safe here.” Her soothing words were at odds with the excitement in her voice.
“My ship, the Hylista, is it in one piece?” He couldn’t remember the final landing. Had the shields protected him, or had the power cut out again?
“It’s… all in one piece,” she said carefully.
“But?”
She frowned. “But what?”
“I sense a ‘but’. It’s all in one piece,
but
…”
She hesitated. “Nerris thinks it’s badly damaged. He can’t get the power to come on.”
Tyris tried to ignore his heart sinking. He had no idea who Nerris was. It was impossible to judge if he was qualified to assess the damage. “Where am I?” he asked instead.
He looked around the room, searching for clues as to his whereabouts. The walls were dark and gritty like mud, and the floor was bare dirt, brightened only slightly by a round, plaited rug. Through the open doorway he could see a fireplace with a large pot hanging over it.
This had to be the village he had flown over, the one that shouldn’t have existed. People actually lived here. What were they doing on this planet? Were they hoping to sell the anysogen on the black market?
That idea didn’t fit. This wasn’t a temporary settlement, where people lived in tents while they mined the valuable fuel. No, it had taken time to build a house like this.
“You’re on Zerris,” she said.
That didn’t tell him much. Zerris must be the name of the second planet, the one with the anysogen. But it didn’t answer his real question—what were people doing on this planet, and did they know about the anysogen?
When he remained silent, she said, “If you are okay for a minute, I’ll just go get Karla.”
“Karla?”
“Karla’s our nurse. She said to call her when you woke up.”
He nodded, and before he could think of anything more to say, she disappeared.
The silence reached out and enveloped him. He strained his ears, but he could hear nothing, no footsteps, no electrical hums, no motors, no sounds at all. Nothing but the sound of his own breath, unnaturally loud in the silence. He heard a faint ringing, and stared around the room searching for the source, until he realised it was his own ears, protesting against the lack of input.
He had spent his whole life surrounded by sounds. The hum of the air conditioning, the fridge, the computer. Here there was nothing but him. It was disconcerting.
His head hurt. Maybe if he closed his eyes for a moment the dull throbbing would fade. Anything that might prevent the stabbing in his head from returning was worth a try. He lay back, trying to block out the lack of sound.
The door slammed. His head jerked up and his eyes flew open, sending a searing pain through his skull. The girl ran back into the room, breathless. She hung onto the doorway, catching her breath. Her hair had blown across her face, and her cheeks were pink. “Karla’s here.”
An old woman appeared in the doorway behind her. Her leathery face, framed by hair going grey around the temples, was a stark contrast to the other woman’s youth.
The young woman moved the lantern closer to his bed, and the nurse leaned over him. She pulled out a flashlight, cranked a small handle on the side a few times, and shone it into one eye, then the other. He blinked, and tried to keep his gaze steady. She lifted the bandage around his head and looked at the wound. “Can you sit up?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I think so.” Tyris pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain. His head pounded, but he didn’t think he would fall.
“Good. How do you feel?”
“I have one hell of a headache, but otherwise, I seem to be all here.”
She nodded, and exchanged a glance with the girl. “You’ve been unconscious for most of the day. If all you have is a headache, I’d say you got off lightly. I was beginning to be quite concerned.”
Tyris swallowed. “All day? That seems like a long time. Will…” he had to force the words out, “will there be any permanent damage?”
“Only time will tell, but the fact that you woke up on your own and appear lucid is a good sign. Tell Marlee if you feel dizzy or if your vision is blurry.”
Tyris nodded, then immediately began wondering if it was blurry vision or the lamplight making her face seem indistinct.
“Marlee?” Karla said.
The girl, who had been hovering in the background, jumped forward. “Yes?”
“Give him some feverfew tea and some food. He can get up when he wants to, but don’t be surprised if he is a little unsteady on his feet. If there are any problems, come and get me.”
The girl nodded obediently and followed the old woman from the room. A few moments later she returned with a pottery cup and held it out to him. “It tastes awful, but it will help the pain.”
He took the cup, his fingers brushing hers for just a second. She pulled back quickly.
“I’m sure I’ve tasted worse.” He raised it to his lips, grimacing at the smell. Bitter, but with a hint of honey. He downed it swiftly, handing the cup back to her, and lay down again with relief.
She put the cup on the table beside the bed then stared at him for a few moments. He thought she was going to say something, but she just crossed to the window and fussed with the curtains for a moment. She turned and came back to the bed and straightened the quilt near his feet.
Tyris waited, hiding a smile, and sure enough, eventually she asked, “What are you doing here?”
“On this planet? I crashed. I thought you would have noticed.”
“Yes, I know that. I found you in your ship, the Hylista.” The name sounded strange the way she pronounced it. Wrapping a strand of hair around her finger, she stared at him. “But why were you out in this part of space? It’s a long way from the central planets.”
How much did she know? How could he find out without giving away his reasons for being here? “I could ask the same question of you. I thought this planet was uninhabited.”
“We came from Semala when the meteor hit.”
The total devastation of the neighbouring planet, still deep in the grip of an impact winter even after all this time, flashed in front of his mind. He nodded. “Why come here though? Don’t you know this planet is polluted? Why not go back to the Colonies?”
A shadow of pain crossed her face. “The Tenacity, our ship, wouldn’t have made it back to the Colonies. It took us nine months just to reach this planet.”
His heart sank. Any hope that he could leave in the second ship receded. “So you’ve been stranded here all this time?”
She nodded.
“Wow.” It was woefully inadequate to describe his feelings. He couldn’t imagine living in these squalid and primitive conditions for a week, let alone years. He didn’t want to imagine it.
Looking at his surroundings made him wonder why he was here. Was this some part of the nurse’s house? Was the girl her assistant? He looked at her surreptitiously. She couldn’t be very old. Her demeanour suggested late teens, but even under the bulky clothes, her curves suggested she’d hit womanhood.
“Um. Marlee? Is that your name?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have a bathroom?” She looked at him blankly for a moment, so he repeated his request. “I need to use the toilet.”
Understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, of course. Here.” She held out a small round earthenware pot to him.
He took it, looking at her incomprehensibly for a moment. Then he felt a flush steal across his face. “I think I could probably get up…”
“Are you sure?” she asked doubtfully. “The bathroom isn’t far,” she said, and waved to a curtain against the side of the wall, “but I’m not sure how much help I could be.”
Tyris was torn. The idea of taking a fall in the bathroom, his pants around his ankles, wasn’t appealing. But neither was the pot. “I think I can manage.”
Marlee nodded, and stood near the bed. Tyris took a deep breath, ignored the pain in his head, and swung his legs over the side. He was glad of Marlee’s presence as he struggled to his feet, clutching at her shoulder as the world tilted.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded then immediately regretted his actions as the world spun again. “Yes, just give me a minute.”
She stood beside him patiently as he closed his eyes, waiting for the spinning to stop. By the time he’d taken three steps towards the curtain covering the bathroom, he was regretting not using the pot. When Marlee pulled aside the curtain and he saw the wooden toilet seat above a low bench, he regretted it even more. He braced himself for the smell, he’d used enough camp toilets to know what to expect, but there was none.
Marlee waited at the door, and Tyris used the walls of the room to steady himself as he sat down and did his business. When he came outside again, Marlee helped him back to the bed, and gave him a bowl of water and a washcloth.
Feeling much more comfortable, he could think about more than just the immediate necessities. This time, when Marlee wordlessly picked up the bowl of water, he put a hand on her arm, surprised to find it was far slimmer than the bulky clothes indicated. “Marlee?”
She froze for a second, looking down at his hand. And he wondered if he had committed some social blunder. As he looked up, she coloured slightly, but met his gaze. “Yes?”
Suddenly, he couldn’t remember what he had been about to say. “I’m Tyris,” he said instead.
“Hello, Tyris.” A smile transformed her face, and he stared at her, holding his breath. It was wide and unaffected, and her eyes sparkled. He’d thought her plain and dowdy, no doubt partially because of the shapeless clothes she wore, but he’d been wrong. The clothes hid her attractiveness, but they didn’t detract from it once he’d noticed it.
He was left with just one question—why had they left an unknown man alone in a house with a beautiful young woman? There was something wrong about the whole situation.
His hand was still on Marlee’s arm, and he withdrew it self-consciously. A million questions rocketed around in his brain, and he couldn’t even figure out where to start. Since he remained silent, Marlee smiled at him and left the room with the bowl.
Maybe he was wrong, and someone else lived here with her. The nurse, a parent, or a husband. There were no obvious signs of other occupants, but then again, the room held very few personal touches. Very little at all, actually, other than the bed. A double bed, he noted.
Was this someone else’s bed, or hers? Discomfort tugged at his thoughts. He shouldn’t be in a strange woman’s bed, even if he had been injured. What would Milandra think? He decided then and there that he wouldn’t tell her about this. She didn’t need to know.
Whatever was in that bitter brew, it seemed to work. The headache had almost disappeared. The pain that returned when he sat up was only a shadow of what it had been.
Marlee came back into the room holding a steaming bowl. A rich, spicy smell wafted from it. His stomach growled.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, offering it to him.
“Starving.” He took the bowl of strange orange sludge with flecks of green, and hid a grimace. Pumpkin, his mind registered. He didn’t like pumpkin. His mother had insisted he and his brother clean their plates as a child, whether they liked it or not. He’d made a point to never eat the stuff again.
He was starving though, so he cautiously lifted the spoon, blew on it, and brought it to his lips and tasted it experimentally. She watched him, so he smiled and made an appreciative sound. Pumpkin or not, it tasted wonderful, and he emptied the bowl in record time, almost burning his tongue in his haste.
He gave her what he hoped was an engaging smile. “Can I have some more?”
She smiled in return, and he was startled again at the way it transformed her face. She refilled his bowl, and this time he ate more slowly, savouring the rich blend, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she sat on the side of the bed. When he had finished the last mouthful and Marlee had taken the plate, he settled back on the pillows, head sinking into the softness, feeling something approaching contentment.
Until thoughts of the Hylista intruded. General Kendal would kill him if it was badly damaged. Worry pushed out contentment, and when Marlee returned, he asked, “How soon can I get to the Hylista to take a look?”
Her nose wrinkled. “It took a couple of hours for me to reach it last time. I don’t think you’re up to it yet.”
He wanted to object, but though the throbbing in his head had eased, he knew she was probably right. In a few days then. He could wait that long.
For a moment, he mourned the lack of a television or computer to pass the time. His eyes watched Marlee as she fussed with the blanket, smoothing it carefully. On his previous stays in hospital, flirting with the nurses had taken his mind off being bedridden.