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With a hand, I probe where I estimate the wound in my chest should be. How long has it been since they put me under? Days? Weeks? Certainly not months. Recovery, I imagine, would take a while, but the Morts, even here at the outdated satellite post, have incredibly sophisticated tools. My fingers find the puckered edges of a freshly healed scar through some gauze. Once I assure myself I’m not in any danger of aggravating the wound, I push myself to a sitting position and look around, eager to find Calix.
But the room is empty.
Save for the medical equipment and the table on which I’m sitting, there’s nothing else.
The sense of unease increases. Prior to the surgery, it would have sent me into a fit of epic proportions, ending with me passing out, but now, I only begin to breathe more heavily.
Where is Calix?
Glancing around, I note several things that don’t seem to make sense. Wouldn’t they have put me in a room to recover and monitor me? They wouldn’t have left me on the operating table in the surgical room. My eyes focus and my vision fills with blood. On the table where I lie, on the outfit I’d dressed in before the surgery, even on the floors.
But that doesn’t make any sense. How could there still be blood if my wound has already turned into a scar? I scoot to the edge of the seat, careful to not step in blood, and slip as I stand on wobbly legs.
“You’re awake,” comes a voice that makes me do just that.
I yelp and hold on to a monitor of some sort to keep myself upright. My eyes go to a figure in the doorway, but I know before my eyes focus on him that it’s not Calix. “Lox?” I ask, my voice hoarse as a frog croak. “Where’s Calix?”
His eyes are brighter and more unfocused than ever. At first, I think maybe the surgery took many hours and he needs some rest. “Phalix isn’t here anymore. Come with me, we must get to the terrainster and return to the facility before it’s too late.”
Confused, I follow him as he turns abruptly and marches away. Not wanting to be left behind, I hobble down the hallways barefoot and in my bloody gown. From what I can recall, he’s going back to the staircase that leads into the bowels of the mountains.
“Come,” he says over his shoulder. “We must hurry.”
“Lox, where’s Calix? Lox!”
He’s muttering to himself, but not answering. It’s as though he only barely recognizes I’m there. Fear spears into my chest. Did he do something to Calix? I’m afraid to stop following him. What if he has? If I run away, will I ever be able to find my way back? My head is still cloudy from the drugs and my body is weak, but I have to be strong.
I strain to listen above the sound of our feet slapping against the steel floors, but I don’t hear Calix anywhere. There’s only me and the mad rantings of Lox.
“No matter how many times I kill him he keeps coming back. No matter, I’ll kill him every solar from now until eternity if that’s what it takes.”
My stomach drops. Is he talking about Calix? If he is, what he’s saying isn’t making any sense. He couldn’t kill Calix more than once, unless he hadn’t done it properly the first time. “Kill who?”
But Lox isn’t paying any attention to me other than to reach behind and grab my hand when I slow down. His fingers lock around my wrist like shackles and he nearly pulls my arm from the socket. My feet scrub against the slippery floors without finding purchase.
“Lox, stop! Stop!”
“Get the ship and leave this planet for good. I’ll make it through the storm if I have to.”
He’s much bigger and stronger than me. Even with the ability to breathe normally, I’m no match for him. He tugs me down the corridors until we reach the massive outer doors. There, he shuts us into the airlock and puts on his rebreather. When I fight him, he cold cocks me without a moment’s hesitation and everything goes dark for a few seconds.
Lox is keying in the code to open the outer door when my vision comes back. The mask is secured on my face and he somehow got me wrangled into some oversized zu-gear that feels scratchy against my skin without a minnasuit underneath. It wasn’t the same zu-gear I was wearing before. This one is too long in the arms and legs.
Once the door opens he takes me by the arm again and jerks me down the long descent into the red-dark haze of the tunnels. I can’t help but feel like he’s leading me into the depths of hell. I survived surgery on an alien planet, but will I survive this?
