by Clyde Key
* * *
Ed was in a bed when consciousness returned. The bed was soft and the cool sheets felt good, but he was weak. He could hardly move his body and both arms were numb. Ed’s glasses were gone so the room was only a blur, but he could see the light colors around him. “Ah, we’re coming around,” he heard a pleasant female voice say. “How are we feeling now?”
“Huh? Have you been out too?” Ed strained to see the person who spoke to him, but could not.
“How are we feeling?” the voice repeated. “If you won’t talk, it’s going to be hard to care for you, you know!”
“I don’t know how you’re feeling,” said Ed, “but I feel like crappy.”
“Now, now! There’s no need for that attitude!” The person stepped next to Ed’s bed and he could see her but couldn’t quite make out the features of her face without his glasses.
“Where am I? What am I doing here?”
“You’re in SecureCare. It seems you had a fight with two Veezee, and you lost! You ought to know better at your age! And in your shape, at that!”
“SecureCare? That’s the prison hospital, isn’t it?”
“That’s right,” the voice said pleasantly. “But we’re not all that bad if you just give us a chance. You’ll be well before you know it!”
“Hmpf. I don’t guess there’s any point to getting better. I go from here to jail if I recover. Last I heard, subversives aren’t ever released. Unless maybe President Litton gets better soon and corrects this mess.”
“Oh! That’s right! You couldn’t know. President Litton is dead! That was two days ago and Jerrold Macklin has already been sworn in!”
“Oh no! That’s the worst that could possibly happen!”
“Well, I wouldn’t know about that. My department is medicine.” She picked up Ed’s glasses and put them on him and her features came into focus. This woman was much younger than Ed, probably only around sixty-five. She was pretty, slender, and moved with an ease that Ed envied. “I’m Doctor Santos. Anna Maria Santos.”
“Doctor—Doctor Santos. What’s the deal with my arms? Why can’t I feel anything?”
“We’re not sure. There’s no medical history to deal with people injured by aliens. We figure it’s some kind of toxin. I’m afraid it’s too early for a prognosis. But on the other hand, we can do wonders for your heart. You’re probably good for another twenty years!”
“Yeah, great! You can keep me alive for years but I spend the time in jail and I can’t do anything! It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll never be released.”
“Don’t worry about that right now,” said the doctor. “You must have your rest.” Doctor Santos took a hypodermic from the tray beside the bed and leaned over toward Ed. “This will put you out for a while.” Ed especially didn’t want to be put out again, so he tried to pull away from the doctor, but he could not. The injection took effect within seconds and the world faded around Ed once more.