Chapter Twenty
Michaela couldn’t move her arms or legs. It felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest.
Her chest hurt with every inhalation, and something covered her nose and mouth. Was that why she couldn’t breathe? Moaning, she thrashed her head from side to side to dislodge the object on her face.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Ruyn’s voice. He clasped her hand.
Her eyelids were so puffy, she could barely open her eyes.
“Whassss…appening?” she slurred in an unfamiliar voice. Her lips seemed to have doubled in size, and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. “My fayss…sumthin wrong with my fayss…can’t breeth.”
“You’re on the way to the hospital.” A uniformed man stepped up. “We’ve given you some antihistamines. You have a breathing mask on. You’re secured in the hover litter so you don’t fall. We’ll be arriving soon.”
The medic retreated to his seat, and she looked at Ruyn.
“You weren’t breathing when I found you. I used the injector Dr. Adanna had given us for the flight home. Then I performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until the medics arrived and took over.”
I needed mouth to mouth? She remembered waking up, having trouble breathing. Ruyn had been gone. But then what? She had no recollection of anything after that.
“They gave you another shot, conferred with Dr. Prymr, and put you on an emergency transport.” Worry etched lines into his face, and his skin seemed to have grayed and aged ten years.
Because of me. “I’m sorry…sorry…for all of this.”
He shook his head. “No. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He bent his head and kissed her knuckles. “You’re going to Luturna Medical Center where Dr. Prymr sent your blood sample. His colleague Dr. Kurur is expecting you.”
She’d fallen asleep feeling fine—more than fine after making love—and then woke up suffocating. She’d tried to call for him, but he was gone, and that was the last she remembered.
“I never should have left you alone.” His eyes looked haunted.
“Waaaat…do you mean?” She gasped even with the breathing mask.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went into the other room to think. When I returned to the bedroom, I found you…”
“Not your fault.” She’d never tell him she’d awakened and called for him. Not now.
“Waaaat were you thinkin’ ’bout?”
He shook his head. “Not important. Doesn’t matter right now. You shouldn’t try to talk.”
“He’s right. Save your breath for breathing,” the medic said. “We’re here now. Hang tight.”
The extended hovercar swooped into a vehicle bay, and its back doors opened. Ruyn moved out of the way as her litter floated out, guided by the medic. With Ruyn following, she drifted into a well-lit, muted-green medical lobby.
The medic handed her off to a tall, bald, thin man with gray-blue skin, his color an instant giveaway he wasn’t Luturnan.
She couldn’t even guess at his species, and it caused a little trepidation.
How much did these alien doctors know about human anatomy and physiology? She was trusting them with her life.
It’s not like I have many options. She reached for Ruyn’s hand and clung to it.
“I’m Dr. Kurur,” said the tall, thin, gray-blue man. “We need to draw some blood and run a scan in our analyzer to get more data while you’re still in the throes of the allergic reaction. We’re not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
That gave her a little more reassurance. “Just…hurry.”
He smiled. “We will.”
Two staff members shifted her to a hospital litter. The medic took his back. “You’re in good hands,” he said and departed.
She hoped so.
“I’d like to go with her,” Ruyn said.
“I promise we’ll take very good care of her, but we need room to work, and scanning bays are tight. Please wait in a comfort station. As soon as she’s stabilized, someone will get you.”
Ruyn squeezed her hand and kissed her forehead. “I love you. Don’t worry.” Despite his calm tone, his tense face betrayed his fear.
“Love you, too. You don’t worry.” She hated being parted from him, and she wished he could have accompanied her for his sake and hers. But there was nothing either of them could do at this point. Everything was out of their hands. She had to put on her big-girl panties and suck it up.
She watched Ruyn watch her as they took her away. Don’t let this be the final goodbye. A tear slipped out of her eye. How can this be happening? It isn’t fair!
The doctor hadn’t underestimated the tightness of the space. She was taken to a closet-sized bay occupied by an enormous gleaming tubular machine with a glass window across the top half. There was barely enough space for the staff to squeeze by.
“I’m going in that?” When he’d said run a scan in the analyzer, she’d assumed he meant her blood, not her. Good thing I’m not claustrophobic.
“Shortly,” Kurur replied.
A phlebotobot withdrew at least a bucket of blood and then whisked it off to a lab somewhere.
“The scan will take about thirty minutes,” Kurur said. Thirty minutes? Scan to her meant short. Thirty minutes wasn’t short. “You’ll be injected with tracers, nanobots that can diagnose at the cellular level.” Injected? Nanobots? She bit her puffy lip, anxiety spiking.
“The nanobots will transmit information. When the analysis is complete, you’ll be treated.”
“More injections?”
“Yes.”
I’m going to be probed by alien microbots. She found no humor in her own joke.
“I will see you again after the scan. Do you have any questions?” Kurur said.
Can I go home? “No.” The experience was so overwhelming, she didn’t know where to begin to ask questions.
Dr. Kurur left, and a nurse-tech helped her into the “analyzer.” The scanner bed was padded, as was the frame immobilizing her head.
“Comfortable?” the nurse-tech asked.
“Enough,” she replied, but then the nurse-tech proceeded to cuff her wrists and ankles. “Do you have to do that?” She hated being restrained.
The nurse-tech settled goggles over Michaela’s eyes. “The injections are quick, but so are your reflexes, and we can’t have you jerking at the wrong time. Music or no music?”
There were many things to like about Luturna, but its screechy, nails-down-the-proverbial-chalkboard “music” wasn’t one of them. “No music.”
“All of our alien patients seem to choose that option.” She patted Michaela’s shoulder. “We’re ready to begin. I’m going to remove your oxygen mask. It will only be off for a few seconds. When the lid closes, you’ll get a new mask. Ready?”
She tried to nod, but her head was immobilized. “Yes.” Let’s get this over with. Ruyn was probably wearing out the floor in the waiting area. He tended to pace when he got anxious or worried.
The nurse-tech removed her mask, and instantly her chest tightened and breathing became much harder. Panic threatened. Hurry. Hurry.
The lid closed.
One Mississippi, two Mississippi. A robotic arm shot out and clapped a mask over her nose and mouth. Oxygen flowed into her lungs. Panic receded with each breath.
“Injections to commence,” said a robotic female voice, startling her. She would have jumped if she hadn’t been immobilized.
Moments later, a robotic arm delivered an injection at the base of her neck on the right side. “Ow!” Another one on the other side. Double ow.
“Light scan to commence.”
A blueish-purple beam crawled over her from head to toe and then reversed. The light scanning continued for long minutes. As she started to relax, she got another jab.
Shortly after that, she felt a crawling sensation inside her body. Like tiny robots were moving around. Not painful but weird and disconcerting. I really am being probed by an alien. At least there’s nothing anal.
Yet.
Still not funny.
“Diagnosis and analysis underway.” The light scans ceased, and so did the injections, and for the next fifteen or twenty minutes, as the crawling sensation continued, she lay worrying. What would the tests reveal? Could she be cured? What if she couldn’t? What was Ruyn doing?
She wished he was with her. Wished she had her mom and dad, her brothers. Wished she wasn’t here at all. Wished none of this had happened.
“Analysis complete,” the voice announced.
What did it find?
“Neutralizing now.”
“Ow!” She got another injection. “Ow!” Another one.
Nothing else happened for about five minutes, but then she realized she felt better. Less itchy, less panicky. The crawling sensation tapered off, too.
“Scanning.” The purple-blue light moved over her for a couple of minutes.
The oxygen mask was retracted. She took an easy, painless breath. I can breathe!
The lid lifted, and the nurse-tech peered at her. “All done. Ready to get out?” She removed the goggles and unbuckled the cuffs, allowing Michaela to climb out. “How do you feel?”
“Much better. I’m not itchy at all. I can breathe.” She patted her face and throat. “I think the swelling has gone down?”
“Quite a bit.”
“What’s the verdict? What was wrong with me? What am I allergic to?”
“Dr. Kurur will relay the results.”
She hadn’t expected the nurse to tell her, but it had been worth a shot.
“Follow me, please.”