Concisus (2 page)

I throw up my hands. “I can’t give you what you want. We weren’t out on a field expedition. I was more concerned with survival than the details of what we encountered.” Kevin narrows his eyes and huffs. I’m out of patience. “This is ridiculous—where’s Dr. Wickerham?” I demand.

Kevin’s crooked lips grimace. In a tone that states,
Everyone should know this
, he replies, “Field managers don’t enter quarantine areas.”

“Then you can convey the message for me. Tell Dr. Wickerham I’ve finished answering questions because I’ve reported everything I know.” I cross my arms and clamp my mouth shut.

Kevin leans close and I see the specks of green in his dark hazel eyes. I shiver when his cold, gloved hand comes up to rest on my arm. Loud enough for only me to hear, he says, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your tests. Things would be much easier if you cooperate.”

I refuse to appear intimidated, so I match his glare. His mouth curls in a snarl before he turns and storms away. He pauses at the door. “You can continue collecting your samples,” I sigh, relieved to not deal with him any longer, but then the remaining doctors descend with their vials and needles.

To ease the lingering tension, I joke with the doctors. At first, they tease and joke back, but as the day progresses, more and more of them ignore me as they go about their work. I’m annoyed, but I give them the benefit of the doubt—I’m not familiar with the isolation suits. The helmets limit the wearer’s vision, and I wonder if they need to press a button or something in order to hear me, which is hard to do with both hands busy.

By the next morning, my patience has worn thin. When Gina, one of the doctors, wordlessly attaches electrodes to my forehead, I wave my hand in front her helmet. “Hello?” I call. Gina jumps back and holds up her hands defensively. Immediately the soldier positioned by the door steps between us. Jeez. I feel bad for frightening her, but the soldier’s reaction was uncalled for, as if I’d attempted to hit Gina.

Locking eyes with Gina I explain, “I just wanted to get an explanation of what you’re doing.” The soldier steps back and Gina silently resumes her work.

I’m miserable. The doctors continue taking their samples and running their tests in silence. After a few ignored hellos, I remain silent and watch everyone work. I am alarmed because they seem tense and worried. They only speak to dole out directions, and the way they handle me is both guarded and rough.

I know something is wrong. They must have found an anomaly in their initial tests. Am I sick? Did I bring something back that’s contagious?

I tell myself I’m overreacting and that the doctors are merely cautious, but another rough jab in my arm quickly ruins that train of thought. He’s not the first doctor to miss my vein, but he’s certainly the farthest from the target. I could have done a better job with my eyes closed. He didn’t even angle the needle properly.

“What the heck?” I growl and pull out the needle before it can do more damage.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and turns to get a fresh needle.

I open my mouth to argue against a second attempt, but then I get a good glimpse of his face. No wonder he’s so bad with a needle. He’s not a doctor but a fellow scientist, Dan. Something is seriously wrong if scientists are running tests on me. I motion for Dan’s attention, but he is suddenly blind as well as deaf. I catch hold of his arm and force him to look at me. The soldier at the door tenses but doesn’t intervene.

“What is going on?” I demand. My voice is calm, but inside I’m screaming, as my fears threaten to push me over the edge of all reason.

Dan’s eyes widen and his mouth flaps open like a trout. “I…I…I gotta go.” He rips his arm out of my grasp and dashes from the room.

I pace the room. The well-armed soldier never breaks his watchful stare. His stance is as tense as Austin’s was when he first met me in the woods. When I quickly clasp my gown to keep it from showing too much, he raises his gun.

“Maybe instead of threatening me you can tell me what’s going on?” I say. He eyes me suspiciously and slowly lowers the gun, but remains silent. I go from freaked to panicked. I’m not being treated like a patient or even a curiosity, but as a dangerous criminal. I don’t feel sick, and I haven’t been back at the base long enough to infect anyone.

Ryan.

It wouldn’t be the first time he was sick and tried to hide it from me.

I ask everyone who enters about Ryan. I plead to see him or beg for assurance that he’s okay, but everyone dodges my questions. A few tell me not to worry but I sense their words are merely a brush off. Most pretend not to hear me. Desperate, I curl myself up and refuse to allow any more testing until I get some answers.

Answers don’t come.

Instead, half a dozen isolation suits pin me to the hospital bed, while one straps bright blue restraints on my wrists and ankles. When I continue to fight, Kevin threatens to drug me to continue the tests. I’m tempted to call his bluff; I figure whatever drugs they use could potentially taint their test results, but in the end, common sense rules out. I pretend to be calm.

“Can you please just tell me if Ryan’s okay?” I plead.

The cruel glint in Kevin’s eyes makes me cringe. “Maybe, if you behave.” He winks before he turns and leaves the room. I swear I hear him snicker as he walks down the hall.

I can’t believe any doctor would treat a patient this way, but Kevin’s not a real doctor; none of them are. Like me, they received all their knowledge during cryogenic sleep, but knowledge can’t replace experience and it certainly doesn’t add maturity. Dr. Wickerham, the field manager, is the only legitimately trained doctor and one of the few colonists older than twenty, but she’s not in quarantine.

Satisfied that I can no longer give them problems, the doctors and scientists continue their work. I examine and test the restraints, search for any point of weakness that could allow me to escape, but I’m out of luck. In addition to Velcro straps, the restraints have a black safety clasp which requires a thumb and forefinger pinch to release. Unless someone accidentally drops a pair of medical shears right into my hand, I’m not going anywhere on my own. I move to plan B: act really, really nice, cooperate, and hope someone takes pity on me and releases me.

By the next day, I’ve all but given up hope. Unless it’s test related, not a single person speaks to me or even looks me in the eyes. No matter how nicely I plead and beg, no one will tell me about Ryan. I fear he’s sick or worse, and though I pray I’m wrong, Ryan’s illness would explain the silence.

When yet another doctor or scientist enters the room. I keep my eyes closed and continue to pray that Ryan is alive and well. When I feel a tiny pinprick on the back of my hand, I open my eyes and see a butterfly needle sticking into the skin. So far, none of the doctors in isolation have agreed to use my hand veins to draw blood.

The isolation suits make faces impossible to discern unless the person looks directly at me. Hopeful, I ask, “Dr. Lambert?”

He turns and shows his sandy blond hair and smiling eyes. “How many times do I need to ask you to call me Chad,” he softly laughs.

Relieved I laugh. “If you can get me out of this mess I’ll call you whatever you want.”

Looking down, Chad watches me with pity. “I hear you’ve had a rough day.”

“Yeah, that’s a bit of an understatement.” I sound as miserable as I feel.

His eyes sweep around the room, land on the soldier and then return to me. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry I don’t have the authority to remove the restraints.” My stomach knots. No matter how nice or sympathetic he is, I’m stuck right where I am.

Against my will, tears stream down my cheeks. I turn my face into my pillow. “All I wanted was some answers. Why are they treating me like this? I didn’t do anything wrong,” I cry. “I got caught in a flood and stranded in the woods, but I’m being treated like a dangerous animal. They won’t let me see Ryan or even tell me how he is. It just doesn’t make any sense.” Before my tears can completely choke off my voice I look up and plead, “Please can you just tell me what’s going on? Is Ryan okay?”

“You don’t know?” Chad’s forehead furrows. “How could you not see it?”

I’m even more confused. “See what?”

There’s a long pause before Chad explains, “Well, for starters, Ryan’s just as fine as you are.”

After all this time waiting, I won’t settle for vague answers. “What does that mean? Do you think we’re ill or contagious? Just what’s going on?”

“It’s hard to describe, but you and Ryan are brighter. Your skin, your eyes, heck, even your nails are more vibrant.” He searches around the room, comes back with a mirror, and holds it up to my face.

My dark auburn hair contains streaks of brighter red, but like the hint of freckles on my nose, the cause is most likely the sun. What really stands out as unusual are my eyes—they shine bright blue instead of their usual, pale shade. Plus, for the first time in my life, I have a tan. As much as I’d like to solely credit the sun, I can’t. My face is much darker than my ivory complexion should allow, and it has the unnatural glow of a self-tanning lotion, minus the unpleasant orange hue.

When I glance back at Chad’s face, the difference seems drastic. Compared to me, Chad looks dull and grey. The change must have happened so slowly that Ryan and I never noticed, but Chad’s right. Everything on me is brighter. That explains everyone’s strange behavior and bombardment of questions.

“Can you at least try to convince them to remove the restraints? It’s not like I’m the first person to ever have strange pigmentation from something they ate.”

He runs a finger aside my bruised arm veins. “I’ll try, but don’t hold your breath. You really ticked Kevin off, and his ego’s ballooned since getting the lead position on this.”

I choke back a sob.

He holds up his hands and shushes me. “Don’t cry. I’ll talk to Dr. Wickerham if I need to.” He drops his hands and rocks back on his heels. “Just promise me you’ll behave. Stubbornness and persistence won’t work in this situation. It will only gain you more grief.”

“Okay.”

At the end of the day, I’m still in restraints, counting the ceiling tiles for the hundredth time and contemplating my brightness. I could possibly get out of my restraints by admitting the likely cause, Caper’s opal berries, but my desire to protect him wins out.

The next morning, Kevin releases me. By the sour expression on Kevin’s face, I assume Chad was true to his word and went to Dr. Wickerham for my release. I return the favor with my best behavior. I don’t give Kevin a hard time; I answer all his redundant questions without complaint, and cooperate with every test, regardless how strange it may seem.

As my color fades, everyone around me relaxes and starts to talk and joke with me. Eventually Kevin allows me out of my room and gives me free reign of my quarantine section. Considering the size of the field hospital, my quarters are modest—a small kitchen, a recreation room, and several patient rooms. Ryan shares the space and that’s all that really matters to me.

Ryan is a welcomed and breathtaking sight. His brighter appearance isn’t the only gradual change I’d failed to notice. The dimple on his cheek is all that remains of his once boyish looks. A leaner, travel-hardened version of him stands before me. His chestnut hair has grown shaggy over the last month, but I like the look on him. I muse about what it will feel like to kiss him without the soft tickle of his beard and to feel his bare, warm cheek against mine, but I’ll have to wait until we have some time alone.

I’m relieved to discover that Ryan’s sleeping in a hospital bed instead of a pod. I still haven’t shared my theory with him, but I suspect the pods are behind my previous attraction to Brody and his to Kelly.

With Ryan to keep me company, quarantine becomes enjoyable, despite the continued tests and the complete lack of privacy. The rec room is tiny but we stay busy. I use the extra time to study emergency medicine. I never want to feel as helpless as I did when the flower attacked Ryan and nearly killed him. When Ryan’s not helping me study, he spends most of his free time sketching plants we encountered. The lifelike colored pencil drawings are beautiful, but they remind me how much I miss being outdoors. A bay window in the rec room is our only view of the outside world.

One day Chad catches me pining at the window and surprises me with a pair of binoculars. Through the lenses, I watch the last hints of summer fade as autumn takes hold. The fern-shaped needles on the pine trees fade from deep green to light gray, while the leaves of the deciduous trees burst into a rainbow of vibrant colors; blues and purples join the expected fall hues. The trumpet flowers that vine up the tree trunks wilt, leaving a delicate black lace pattern that beautifully contrasts the soft white to blue-gray tree bark.

Ryan and I become impatient with the drawn out quarantine and demand a release date. Our color is normal again, but the doctors insist on more testing to ensure we’re all right and refuse to offer any kind of timeframe.

Chapter 3

At the beginning of the fifth week, Kevin leads me to a small round room that has a table in the center of it. I sit down and observe that the wall facing me is composed entirely of glass. On the other side sit Dr. Brant and several of the other field managers.

The group of them intimidates me. The way they fire me with questions makes the meeting feel like an interrogation. Dr. Brant is especially relentless with her questions. I worry she knows I’m holding something back, but I stick to my story. Eventually the group tires of hearing the same answers over and over and dismiss me. On the way back to my quarantine area, I pass Ryan being led to the round room.

At the end of the week, Kevin enters the recreation room and announces. “Your quarantine is over.” He motions for us to follow him, and leaves abruptly.

Kevin leads us to a pair of doors. He directs Ryan to the right and me to the left door which leads to a small changing area, with a shower. I’ve never been in this area of the hospital before. A computer voice from an overhead speaker instructs, “Please remove all clothing and proceed to showers.”