[begin blog post #24]
When I come to, and I must admit I’m surprised they didn’t just kill me for the satisfaction of the crowd out there in the arena, I’m lying on a flat, hard surface and what I first see are the faces of the doctor and Deirdre staring at me. At first I think I’m having a PDE (Post Death Encounter) of latent images. Then I hear them talking and I pick up a whiff of disinfectant. I’m truly still alive!
The room I’m in looks strange by any standard. The ceiling is low, curved and full of recessed lights. At my feet are pulsing blue-green lights around an opening that resembles an ancient short-range shuttle auto-medic. I’m wrapped tightly in some kind of tensor bandage with only parts of my face showing. I detect a familiar humming sound. And I realize, almost ecstatically, that for the first time in months I feel no physical pain beyond a slight throbbing at the temples. What a blessed relief!
“Do you recognize where you are?” the doctor asks me. His voice comes from a great distance and moves in and out. But I understand him.
“No sir.” I reply, my voice weak and throaty. I realize my throat is parched and motion with my mouth. Deirdre brings me a pink coloured drink in a clear crystal-like goblet with a folding tube from which I suck the liquid. After she removes it, she applies a wet cloth to my lips, removes it and kisses me! The witch! Tears form in my eyes. How good it is to be alive at this moment! And loved.
And I continue answering the doctor, “But I should know. Those lights and sound are those of an auto-medic unit as used on ancient short range crafts we called Jump Scouts, the kind used by the United Treaty Worlds.”
“I don’t know anything about United Treaty Worlds but you are correct, this is from an alien spacecraft, yes, we have ascertained that. But we are not in space, just a few yards from my room. This medical unit was obviously cannibalized from an abandoned or disabled alien space craft perhaps hundreds of years ago. It was entombed here, we do not know by whom, nor why it is here but it has been used by my people as com center, first aid medic facility and safe house on many occasions since we have been studying this world.
“That we know, no one else on this world besides the three of us here and the Cydroids you saw previously know of this facility.”
Cydroids? Ah, he probably means the androids. Of course! A beep sounds and the lights by my feet at the opening into the auto-medic change from a pulsing blue to a steady red. The doctor consults his watch-chrono.
“It’s time again. I’m going to send you into the auto-medic for a deeper scan and some preliminary bone repair. You will be returned in thirty-five minutes for my inspection. Meanwhile I must decide what to do with your friend Deirdre.”
“Please don’t hurt her!” I try to scream as the stretcher I am strapped upon retracts into the glowing tube. The end seals itself shut just behind my head and white noise or white light or both, fill my brain.
In a moment of timeless eternity I awaken once more in the land of the living. I’m no longer in bandages but still lying on the retractable “gurney”. Deirdre helps me up and the doctor actually hands me a gown. It’s been so long since I wore any clothing, I’m almost embarrassed to put it on, as if wearing clothes is committing an act of indecency. Deirdre is also wearing a short black dress and sports a comical perplexed expression as she fingers the flimsy material as if she wanted to tear it off of herself. She has never worn a dress, or any kind of clothing in her entire life! It would seem strange, indeed. To her it must seem as if she were attired as a male.
She does not seem hurt in any way and with my full senses returned I know she is not hurt. In fact I sense some kind of new energy from her. I know the doctor has made love to her – I can smell it on her – and I know that she has made a deep impression upon him with her sexual skills and empathic personality. He likes her and I like the connection made thus, a connection that I plan to use in time, in whatever time I am given.
After I sit at the doctor’s small table Deirdre serves me some food concoction that tastes beyond delicious, whatever it is, on a real plate and with utensils!
Here I am, sitting at a table, eating with cutlery, not wolfing coarse food down with hands and fingers from a bowl. I’m wearing clothes, my body clean and free of physical pain and putting my hand to my hair, I feel that it has been washed and cut into a pageboy style. Deirdre again. My sweet lover cuddles against me and the man whom I’d feared, sitting across from the small fibresteel table watching me, is now most certainly my life saver. And a fleeting smile plays across his beautiful face.
We used to say, ‘wonders never cease’ and indeed it’s true. They never do. We go through life after life, experiencing the flow of the All-Thing and we are forever renewed by being pushed into new experiences by choices made by others, or choose our paths through our own creative thinking. The best is when all of it works in harmony, but that is a rare thing.
The doctor looks at me and smiles. “You are truly a beautiful woman when you take care of yourself now huh!?” Question? Statement? A joke? Yes, my doctor makes a joke and the smile returns. This man is full of surprises.
Daringly I ask him, “How do you know the girl’s actual name, doctor?”
“She came to me feigning a knee injury while you were in the fight. She told me everything you and she talked about. She told me about the name-giving rite you performed with her and said you needed to speak to me, which suited me fine because I need to speak to you also. And she was emphatic in claiming that you would need my full attention when the fight was over because you would be mortally wounded. She knew! When I asked her how she could know this she just shrugged and told me she couldn’t say.
“But then I figured it out, of course. This creature is a throw-back, a Cholradil. She possesses the mind-set of an ancient race that inhabited these parts around a hundred thousand years ago, according to old writings. I got that impression when I touched her body looking for the knee injury. It is said that their responses to touch is somewhat like contacting a static charge.”
I look him straight in the eyes and let mine convey the thoughts in my mind. ‘I owe you for not punishing the girl and I owe you the debt of life also,’ I think as I stare into his broad face, now more beautiful than ever to me, ‘yet I have a terrible favour to ask of you and must risk your anger once more.’ There is a quizzical look on his face. He knows I’m speaking to him but cannot understand. He is not telepathic, or if he is, he uses a different thought patterning. It’ll have to be openly verbal then.
The time has arrived for real questions and real answers. Now I must know; this charade between us must end.
[end blog post #24]