“Toni?”Stacy was aware she screamed the name, but her voice seemed to come from a million miles away.“Toni?”
“Alive and kicking.Well, alive at any rate.”The whisper was hard to hear.
Stacy was dimly aware of her legs giving out, of her promised clan catching her before she could crash to the floor.A hot flood of tears poured down her cheeks.And still, all she could say was, “Toni?”
* * * *
Earth II
Toni Nichols clicked off the com after fifteen minutes of speaking to Stacy.By then, the room had blurred to a white smear, and she couldn’t emit more than a hiss of breath when she spoke.Though some fear wormed in her heart at the idea of going to sleep again and perhaps not waking, exhaustion had its way and darkness descended.
When her eyes opened again, it took perhaps a minute to remember why she was in what was obviously a hospital room.Machines chirped at her in the voices of hesitant birds.Monitors wrote incomprehensible lines of vital signs.Slowly, the mists in her brain cleared.She inhaled and smiled.
Alive.
She had just ordered the medi-bed she occupied to a sitting position when a figure draped in a white suit and clear headpiece walked in the room.The creased face peering through the visor at her looked tired, but he smiled.“Ms.Nichols, it’s wonderful to see you awake.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s good to be awake.The world didn’t end while I was gone, did it?”She recalled his name was Dr.Bowen.When they’d spoken earlier, he’d told her she’d been unconscious for two weeks.
“It would be depressing for your sister if it had.Tough to govern when there’s no Earth to do so.”
The joke was weak, but Toni managed to laugh.“You don’t know Stacy very well.She’d boss a blade of grass for not growing tall or green enough.”
His chuckle was real.“How do you feel?”
She evaluated.“Tired.But my chest doesn’t bother me the way it did before I went AWOL.How bad do I look?”
“I hate to tell a lady the truth when it comes to such questions.You took a beating from the virus.Does it help if I mention how svelte you are these days?”
“Only if I can tell you how much it looks like you need to do a Rip Van Winkle and sleep a few years.”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” he sighed.“We’ve lost a quarter of our personnel to Dark Death.The rest of us are living on coffee, stim tabs, and anything made with a high sugar content these days.”
“I’m so sorry,” Toni gasped.
“The perils of being on the front lines of this thing.Fortunately, we win a few.You, for instance.”
“No doubt thanks to you.”Her appreciation was heartfelt, especially in the wake of his loss.He’d buried too many friends and colleagues.Perhaps even family.
“You’re returning the favor,” Dr.Bowen said.“When you held off the virus despite it doing its best to kill you, researchers asked for your blood.They did so for anyone whose immune system fought so hard.Your antibodies are among those that are the basis for the vaccine they think will cure Dark Death.We owe you a debt of gratitude, young lady.”
“Really?Wow.Yay me and my refusal to drop dead.”
“Indeed.”He chuckled.“Are you up for visitors?”
“Is it safe for them?”Damn Clan Rihep.If they’d allowed Stacy to return to the planet too soon, Toni would rip their arms off...as soon as she could summon the strength, which was already waning.
“Your guests are immune to Dark Death.I’ll give them five minutes.Send them off if you get too tired.”He headed for the door.
“Wait, I’m not sure I want to be seen like this,” she sputtered a moment later, but he’d already left.
“Damn it.”She felt her hair.Had anyone washed it during the two weeks she’d been unconscious?The usually springy curls felt flat to her touch, particularly those plastered to the back of her head.“A mirror would be nice!And a comb,” she called to no one.
She fluffed her curls as best she could by feel.She examined her fingernails and blinked.Her fingers were skeletal, the knuckles prominent.Dr.Bowen had mentioned her being svelte.Toni had a feeling the description had been kind.
The door opened.Despite her growing fatigue, her pulse sped as Clan Imon walked in.The trio hesitated a scant moment, then swept to her.They exclaimed greetings as they descended.
“What are we going to do about you?You didn’t tell us how sick you were when we last spoke,” Dramok Imon demanded.His intense looks, heightened by a devilish goatee, were often gentled by a roguish bent.Such was the case now, but his bright grin was tempered as he examined her features.
