by D. L. Orton
I look up into his tired eyes. “I won’t abandon her,” I say, shaking my head. “D-don’t ask me to do that.”
“I’m not. I’m asking you to wait for a week or two. Kirk said he’d get her back, and you’ve barely even given him a chance to try. Look around you. People are dying right here, right now.”
I push him away, unable to listen to any more.
“What about Jack?” he says. “His leg is going to require multiple surgeries—you told me that yourself. And what about the others who are injured? Who’s going to take care of them while you’re gone?”
I don’t meet his gaze. “Lucy and Becky can fill in while I’m away.”
“Lani, they think the world of you,” he says, “but we both know they’d be lost without you. You can’t abandon all the people in the Bub.”
I shake my head. “My daughter needs me.”
“Right now, we need you more.”
“After what you did to Shannon, you have no right to say that to me.” The words come out like a curse.
He turns me around, looking old and worn down. “I know you, Lani. You couldn’t live with yourself if you let something happen to all these people—and neither could I.”
“And if something happens to Shannon, how am I going to live with that?” I pull away from him and hurry into the clinic, wishing for the first time in my life that I wasn’t a doctor.
∞
A cold breeze bites into my exposed face as I watch Madders take off into the early dawn sky, Mindy in the copilot’s seat. When I talk to David this morning, I plan to beg him to send out a plane to pick me up. In the twenty years since we were lovers, I’ve never asked him for anything, and I’m hopeful he’ll say yes.
In the meantime, I’m doing whatever I can to help here at the Bub.
I turn toward the people dressed in black inside the biodome, and someone raises a hand in acknowledgment. I toss the bouquet of flowers from Lucy’s garden on the mound of newly-turned earth and bow my head.
Goodbye, friends.
A minute later, I see the plane disappear over the snowy peaks to the west and get to work.
David asked for a look at the biodome damage from the exterior, and I was the obvious choice.
I trudge across the frosty ground toward the damaged sector, shivering in my thin jacket. I wonder how my life could have been different if I’d found out I was immune nineteen years ago, before everything fell apart. I stop and stare at the ridge where my brother was waiting for me the day he died—the day I got him killed.
Was he immune? Did he run into that flamethrower for nothing? Could the two of you have survived Outside for all these years? Would you have wanted to?
“The three of us,” I say to the wind.
You were pregnant with Shannon.
I imagine giving birth as a seventeen-year-old, alone in a cold, dark warehouse, not knowing if my baby would die with her first contaminated breath. And if she does turn out to be immune, I envision raising her with no medical supplies, no schools, and no bed to sleep in on snowy winter nights.
The thought makes me shudder.
I couldn’t save Sam, but so help me God, I’m going to save Shannon.
When I’m out of sight of the airlock, I stop walking and turn toward the rising sun, the rays touching my face for the first time in twenty years. Shannon is out there, fighting for her life, and I’m stuck here, letting the atrocities pile up.
I take one of her ribbons out of my pocket and bring it up to my nose, trying to remember what she smells like, the soft feel of her hair through my fingers as I braid it before bed, listening to her chatter about her day. The last few nights have been the worst of my life—even harder than the ones after I was burned—and it’s all I can do to keep up my doctor facade during the days.
All the worry and fear and frustration overwhelms me. I drop down to my knees and let the tears flow, knowing it won’t do any good but unable to fight the despair any longer.
I’m sorry, baby.
When I have no tears left, I force myself to stand and keep walking, silently praying to Pele that Shannon is alive—and unharmed.
The damaged area isn’t visible from the ground, but the ribs of the biodome are numbered sequentially, and it doesn’t take me long to find the one adjacent to the breach.
After I pull myself up on the lowest rung of the external access ladder, I switch on the radio. Mindy’s sister, Allison, has taken over radio duties while their dad, Jack, recovers.
“Ally, this is Dr. Kai. I’m up on ladder forty-two now. Do you read me?”
“Loud and clear, Doc,” she says. “How are things out there?”
“Cold and breezy. Hang on, I’ll set up the camera.” I take off my gloves, take the camera headset out of my pocket, and fit it over my stocking cap. “Are you getting the live feed now?”
“Yep. Be careful out there!”
“Will do. I’m going to get closer to the hole.”
“Roger that. I should have you patched through to Mr. Kirk in a jiffy.”
“Thanks, Ally.” I put my gloves back on and start climbing.
A minute or two later, David’s warm and confident voice fills my ears. “Hey, babe. I hear you’ve been hiding superpowers from me. I always knew you were one of a kind.”
I force a laugh. “Wish I would have known sooner, back before my brother—”
“Don’t we all,” he says. “What have you got for me?”
“I’m about halfway up. Are you getting the video feed?”
“Yeah. Looks good so far. How’s the ladder holding up?”
“Fine. A little rust in spots, but not much.” I keep climbing, being careful not to slip. “Any news on Shannon?”
“I expect to hear something today. And don’t worry, Lani, I’ll get her out of there.”
I stop for a minute to catch my breath. “David, I know this is asking a lot, but can you send someone out here to pick me up? I’ll donate tissue so C-Bay can investigate my immunity—and then I’ll go with you to get Shannon.”
“Sure I can, Wonder Woman, but it doesn’t make any sense. The Catersville guys are trigger-happy as hell, and they’d just be itching for a reason to open fire. That hot temper of yours—and the fact you’ve got a pair of tits—could end up getting someone killed. Trust me, it’s not a good idea.”
“What about sneaking in?” I start climbing again, going over my plans in my head. “Madders says there are manual airlocks that can be operated from the exterior. I could go with you, sneak in at night, and take a look around. I’m small and quick—and I can survive Outside without a suit. It would be eas—”
“You’re right about the airlocks, babe, but that biodome is huge. The chances that we could find Shannon without getting caught are negative zero percent—and the moment they know we’re inside, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. I’ve been through all the options, princess, and the best way for you to help Shannon is to stay put.”
“David—”
“Lani, you can’t do anything to help Shannon right now. The moment that changes, you’ll be the first to know. And as far as your immunity goes, we have your genome on file, so there’s nothing more you can provide right now. I double checked. The Bub needs you—especially now that you can go Outside. Christ, you could be the one who ends up saving everyone.”
“I don’t want to be the hero, David. I want to get my daughter back before something horrible happens to her.”
“Look, I know I can’t stop you—she’s your daughter—but I’m asking you to make the right decision.”
“I can’t abandon her—”
“Work with me on this, Lanikins. You know me well enough to know that when I say I’ll get her out of there, I’ll damn well do it.”
I wipe my face on the back of my glove and continue climbing.
“You okay, babe?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You always were a fighter. Can you give me a shot of the wall to
your right?”
I’m almost to the top now and climbing horizontally. I sit on a ladder rung and sweep my gaze across the top of the dome.
“A little slower. Yeah, that’s good. From where you are, can you see any cracks or buckles?”
“No.”
“Okay, good. Let me see the damaged area.”
I shift my position and scan the other side.
“Shit.”
“What is it, David?”
“Well, it’s not fucking good.”
There’s a loud pop on the radio, and Ally’s too-loud voice breaks in. “Dr. Kai, you have to get back to the clinic immediately! We think Miss Lucy’s had a heart attack, and Mom is just sitting on the floor next to her crying.”
“Go,” David says. “Leave the camera pointed at the damaged area. I’ll catch up with you tonight.”
“Ally, I’m heading back in now,” I say. “Is Lucy conscious? Is her heart beating?”
“Yes,” she says, “but she’s in a lot of pain—and she’s having trouble breathing. What should we do?”
“Crush up an aspirin—there’s a bottle in the desk drawer—and have her swallow it.” I rip off the headset, disconnect the camera from the radio, and put it back on. “Then get her into a bed and put her on oxygen.” I use a strip of Velcro to attach the camera to a rung of the ladder, do a quick check in the viewfinder, and start climbing down.
“But we don’t know where anything is,” Ally says, crying now. “Mom’s gone all wonkers, and Miss Lucy is going to die!”
“Damn it, Ally, pull yourself together!” My foot slips on a metal rung, and I almost fall.
Slow down. You can’t afford to get hurt.
I continue stepping down. “Nobody’s going to die, Ally. Everything you need is in the storage cupboard. Who else is there with you?”
“All the D-1s are here. We were helping Mom and Miss Lucy pack up medical supplies.”
I force myself to slow down and pay attention to the ladder rungs. “You’ve all had a rotation at the clinic and know how to do CPR. So don’t panic!”
“Okay, okay,” she says between sobs. “We’re giving her the aspirin now.”
“Good. Put your mother on the radio. I want to speak to her.”
“Here she is,” Ally says, and then I hear her say, “Mom, Doc wants to talk to you…”
“Rebecca Lofgren Moynihan,” I say in my sternest doctor voice, “you get your ass up off that floor and get an oxygen mask on Lucy. That’s an order.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Becky says, her voice flat. “We’re all gonna die.”
“Not if I can help it,” I say. “Madders is going to find that underground city, and you’re going to drive us right up to it in one of those big trucks you brought back from Dulce Base. Now get up, blow your nose, and help the kids with Lucy. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I jump down off the ladder and run across the frozen ground, knowing what I have to do.
I need to help Madders find the Magic Kingdom and figure out a way to get everyone safely inside.
Forgive me, Shannon. I’ll come after you as soon as I can.
11
Alone Again (Naturally)
Diego
A couple of days after Soleil tosses me out of her office, Kirk stops by my hospital room while I’m finishing breakfast. He tells me he’s attempting to set up an exchange with Catersville: Shannon for a planeload of parts, medicine, and what he calls bling—coffee, liquor, chocolate and such.
“I’ve sent them the offer, but they’re not jumping on it,” he says. “They claim they’re keeping Shannon for her own good—that you’re mentally unstable and should be kept away from her.” When I start to protest, he holds up his hands. “I’m not saying I believe them, I’m just stating what they told me.”
We end up having a discussion about what happened on the tarmac at Catersville, and when I tell him about their request for me to “walk through Eden in the fashion that God intended,” he takes out his phone and shows me the video they sent him.
It’s quite eye-popping.
It’s shot with a camera phone through a dirty windshield, and the image is shaky and small. I’m out on the tarmac, buck naked, apparently singing and dancing in the rain. There’s no sound, but it’s clearly me.
“It’s been edited,” he says. “I had one of my men take a look, and there are pieces missing and a section that repeats three or four times—to make it look like you’re dancing.”
I can’t imagine what Lani would think if she saw this. “If you didn’t know the truth,” I say, “you’d think I was mad as a hatter.”
He crosses his arms. “So you’re sticking to your story? They took her unprovoked?”
“It’s not a story, it’s the truth.” I fight to keep my temper under control. “She was hiding under a blanket in the backseat.”
“And you didn’t do anything to piss them off?”
I stare at him for a couple of seconds and then look away. “Besides landing on their runway, begging for fuel, and pleading with them not to shoot up the plane, no.”
“But you realize that trying to trick them into thinking you were Jesus could be seen as provocation?”
“What are you saying?” I stand up. “That it’s my fault they kidnapped Shannon?”
He scoots his chair back. “Of course not, but you do seem to have a talent for pissing people off.”
“I didn’t have a choice, Dave. If we wanted fuel, they insisted I take off my clothes and walk around in the goddamn Garden of Eden.”
“Okay. That’s what I thought, but I wanted to make sure I got the full story.” He stands up and replaces the chair in the corner. “Anything else you’ve left out?”
I shake my head. “We did everything they asked, cooperated to the fullest, right up until they forced Shannon out of the plane at gunpoint.”
“Okay. Let me see what I can do—maybe turn the heat up a bit.” He walks to the door. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have more information.”
“Thanks. Anything I can do to help?”
“Best thing would be to assist Soleil in unraveling the mystery in your blood. I heard she isolated the biotechs in your blood last night. It’s a good start.”
“She did?” I say, wishing Soleil would stop by and give me a chance to explain myself.
“Don’t worry,” Dave says and pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll get Shannon back.”
He strides out just as Nurse Ratched—whose real name turns out to be Nurse Sweet—peeks around the doorframe. Bella seems to have taken me off the torture list, and things have improved dramatically here in the hospital. Nurse Sweet has even taken to bringing me actual food and smiling at my jokes occasionally.
“Morning,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
“Dr. Nadales needs more of your blood for analysis,” she says as she collects my empty tray, “and an MRI for comparison purposes. I wasn’t planning to go with you, if that’s okay?”
“Yep. Just point me in the right direction.”
After another stint at the Vampire Lounge—as Nurse Sweet calls the blood lab—I finish filling out Soleil’s long set of questions on my genetic background and set off for the MRI lab. I end up sitting in an empty waiting room for two hours, twiddling my thumbs and wishing I had a cell phone to play games on.
I’m feeling exhausted and morose when I get back to my room.
At dinnertime, Nurse Sweet stops by, but her hands are empty. “Dr. Nadales has requested that we get a spinal fluid sample,” she says. “She wants to know if you’re willing to undergo the procedure tomorrow, and she asked me to convey to you that it’s important.”
“Why doesn’t she tell me herself?”
“She’s been busy in the lab all day, Mr. Crusoe. I’m sure you’re aware of how important her work is—to all of us.”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll need you to sign this.” The nurse hands me a consent form—which is the first of its kind I’ve
seen since I got here. “And don’t worry,” she says, “the procedure can be painful, but it isn’t dangerous.”
“Sounds delightful. Could you ask Dr. Nadales to stop by and explain it to me, please?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she says and then hesitates.
“What is it?” I ask, getting a bad feeling about this whole thing.
“Unfortunately, she wants to do it first thing in the morning. You won’t be able to eat dinner tonight. But you should be done in time for lunch tomorrow.” She places her hand on my arm. “I apologize for not bringing you something earlier, but I just now saw the orders.”
“No worries,” I say, trying not to look as hungry as I feel.
She squeezes my arm. “You’re a trouper.”
I pass the evening reading about spinal fluid taps and hoping Soleil will stop by to answer my questions—or even chide me for being a delusional psychotic—but she doesn’t.
I wait up until midnight, my empty stomach getting steadily worse, and then give up and go to bed.
But I have trouble falling asleep.
I’ve been stuck in this universe for over a year, and my past life is starting to feel less solid, less real.
Am I crazy? Is this whole time travel nonsense a figment of my imagination?
When I finally nod off, I dream about rescuing Isabel from the hotel fire—only when I lift the rubble from her trapped body, she’s a skeleton. Standing behind her body are Lani, Shannon, and Soleil in punctured biosuits, their panicked faces begging me to save them. I glance up and see the pod from the time machine falling down through the flames.
I jolt awake, covered in sweat.
Christ, maybe the operation will kill me, and I won’t have to face the mess I’ve made of things.
“Good morning!” The light in my room comes on, and I blink back the affront.
A male doctor I’ve never met walks in wearing scrubs.
“I heard that you were a little worried about the procedure, and I want to assure you that it’s perfectly safe.”