Paradox (17 page)
Authors: A. J. Paquette
Ana stops, suddenly realizing that the sunsmeet is already here; the colony is empty and in ruins.
So … what has the countdown been for?
The worm shakes itself, and Todd crashes to the ground in front of the monster, his left leg bent awkwardly under him. One dagger stays lodged in the worm’s hide, a seep of dark liquid dripping in its wake. The other has fallen out of his reach in the sand. Todd looks up at the creature, and even from this distance Ana can tell he’s lost to the worm’s trancelike pull.
“Hey!” Ana screams. “I’m over here!”
There’s an instant where the worm turns its head to look at her, and she feels the crush of its bottomless stare. Then the worm’s tail whips around and smashes into Todd, tossing him into the air like a piece of driftwood.
“NO!”
Todd hurtles out toward the sea.
The worm bears down on her.
Ana’s head jerks back as though it’s been caught on a fishing hook. There’s a tearing sensation, as if someone has hold of her skin and is pulling it off.
Then a sheet falls over her mind and everything goes white.
Galaxy Voice
After the return Sunday of the shuttle containing just eleven survivors out of the sixteen original APEX2 colonists, scientists can no longer rule out the possibility of an alien virus. “We are focusing every effort on analyzing the available information, and are confident that we will soon be able to make our findings public,” said Dr. Rick Paolo of the Global Infectious Disease Group. The returning colonists are being held in an undisclosed quarantine facility, and reports confirm that several among them are now also showing signs of infection.
“There is some evidence that an infectious entity may have been carried back from Paradox by the APEX2 survivors,” admitted Dr. Paolo, stressing that the disease has been fully contained and there is absolutely no danger to the public. Crew members of APEX2 were not available for comment.
In an ironic twist, the most controversial part of this space mission—the inclusion of teenage crew members from Savitech’s prestigious ExtraSolar Youth Science program—has delivered a hopeful result. A source inside Savitech confirms that the only crew members showing no signs of infection are the four teenagers.
This is how she wakes. There is a heavy pressure on her chest and a dull weight in her legs. Her mouth feels like cotton, and her eyes are glued shut.
No … not glued. She thinks they might open, if she tries.
She tries.
Everything is white. And somewhere nearby, a very faint sound:
beep … beep … beep …
To her left there’s a wall and to her right a paneled screen. Overhead, fluorescent lights shine from a painted ceiling.
Where am I?
Lights … a ceiling … She’s indoors, lying on a bed. But how?
She remembers the worm … the overlapping suns … the end of the countdown …
And then nothing.
What’s happened to me?
Ana tries to sit up, but there’s something on her forehead, holding her down. There’s a wide strap across her hips. And when she tries to lift her arms, she finds them restrained, too. Ana forces herself to take slow, steady breaths.
One thing at a time
.
She wiggles her arms, which slide easily out of the loose restraints. Then she brings her hands up to her head, feeling a thick band across her forehead. Fumbling a little, she finds a button, which she depresses. The band splits open and falls off to either side of her head. As it pulls away she hears little suction sounds coming from her forehead, as if a series of connections is coming loose.
A second time Ana tries to sit up. This time she gets halfway before the room begins to spin. Black spots lace her vision.
She drops back onto the bed.
I need to take it easy, slow things down
. Even though that’s the last thing she feels like doing.
She touches her tongue to her lips and discovers they are sandpaper rough. So she’s been here awhile. Unconscious.
Captive?
Trying to steady her pounding heartbeat, she starts over. She moves slower this time, easing herself gradually to a sitting position. But there’s still that band on her hips. She realizes after a moment what it reminds her of: the belt on her seat, back inside the rocket. But a cluster of wires and cords snake out of this belt and twine away below the bed.
Under her trembling fingers, the band comes apart as easily
as the one on her forehead did. And sure enough, just like back in the rocket, rows of acupuncture-like needles withdraw from her midsection, leaving a dull, pulsing ache.
So wherever she is, they’ve got equipment. Technology. And for some reason, her bodily needs have been taken care of—fluids, elimination, nourishment.
But why am I still alone?
Ana looks down at her body. Her jumpsuit is gone. She’s wearing jeans and a tight cream-colored shirt with long sleeves and a red embroidered flower pattern. Somehow she knows that the jeans are Olive brand size 29, and on the shirt there’s a—no, that’s ridiculous. But Ana lifts the hem of the shirt anyway.
