Short Story Collection

Captain - The Nirvana Series

Rigso paced across the bridge. The sight below looked serene. A beautiful planet with lush green forests, clouds gently moving, but the noise from the planet’s broadcast channels was anything but serene. There was panic. Something down there was spread, some disease that was killing people.

“Is the captain responding?” Rigso asked.

“Not yet,” the comms officer said, “but I keep trying.”

The captain was down there, and what had been a concern earlier had turned into a panic. The hospitals were overflowing with dying people.

All Rigso wanted was to get the captain off the planet so they could get out of here. They still had cargo to pick up, and it was processing. The materials tender was down there being loaded. They couldn’t leave until it returned—or the captain.

“He’s on,” Juin said and put the feed on screen.

They saw the captain walking, his attention shifting between the things he saw around him. “There’s panic down here. I’m making my way to the shuttle, but there’s a crowd trying to get into the shuttle port.”

Rigso stroked his chin nervously. How could they help the captain? They couldn’t. It wasn’t as if they could go down and pull him through the crowd. This problem was something he needed to solve. More people could be seen around him, eagerly trying to get off the planet, but there were guards and a gate, Rigso assumed.

“Excuse me,” they heard the captain saying. People were shouting angrily.

“Can you help me?” a woman said. “I need to get my girl off the planet. She’s already sick, so she wouldn’t survive if she catches this thing.” The woman was talking hectically with sheer desperation in her voice.

“I’ll see what I can do,” the captain said. He probably shouldn’t have promised anything, but he was one of the few people who could help her. For a moment, Rigso wondered if he should warn the captain about offering help, but they were in a position to help. If people needed to get off the planet, The Nirvana was one of the few means of leaving. The problem was that they weren’t outfitted to take passengers. This was a freighter. They could take a few, but no more.

The visual stream jumbled for a moment as the captain pushed through the crowd. “I can take a few of you,” he called.

Outing

The boat barely looked seaworthy. The smell of diesel and fish stung Emma’s nose. Every part painted blue and numbers were written on the side of it. Her and three couples were urged to sit down on the wooden benches along the sides under a shade and it started it up with a plume of smoke.

“Okay, we go,” said a man with a weather-beaten face. Slowly they pulled away from the jetty and as they got further away, the speed increased a surprising degree. Warm wind tugged at her hair, along with a salty mist of sea water.

With a sigh, she watched as they made their way to some distant islands. It felt wonderful, freeing, and she didn’t have a care in the world. Sea salt and coconut smelling sunblock. Was this what happiness smelled like? Everything was good. They’d snorkel and then return to her lovely room just as the sun was setting. Why couldn’t everything feel like this?

The island got closer, and there was a small beach by otherwise unwelcoming terrain. Steep cliffs covered by jungle, but they weren’t here for the island—instead the coral reef surrounding it.

The boat slowed as they got closer, and one of the men jumped out into the clear turquoise water, and fish scattered. They were urged off and she sat herself on the edge before jumping in. It was so warm it didn’t even have a chill. Finns in hand, and her goggles hanging off her arm, she waded up to the beach.

“We swim, then eat, then swim,” the man said. “We whistle.”

For a moment, the group look lost, before they started towards the water. At waste high water, she put her fins on and then the goggles and snorkel, which tasted rubbery and salty. As she placed her face in the water, the sand came into view and all the fish. Smalls eyes looking back at her, while her own breath echoed in her ears. The sand gave to an underwater world. Endless structures that she floated above. A riot of colors like a beautiful garden, and even brighter fish that shimmered with the sun. The waves above cast shadows.

Coral almost reached the surface and then plunges to the seabed. Patterns and soft stalks moved with the current, and she felt the coolness of the currents as she swam through them.

Greeting the Water

The sheer material of her wrap stroked around Emily’s legs as she walked out into the lush, tropical gardens of the hotel. Tall plants were unfamiliar and spectacular, with large foliage that waves slightly in the gentle, warm breeze. A winding path led to the pool, where a few people sat reading on sun chairs.

The sun warmed her immediately, but it wasn’t the pool she was after, so she kept going, her ears drawing her to the rhythmic lapping of the ocean. Emerging out of the garden, the bright blue of the water was almost a shock after the darker tones of the garden. Pale sand stretched down each side as far as they eye could see, lined with coconut trees along the path.

This was blissful and she just stood there for a moment, letting the warm breeze nudge her hair away from her face and making her wrap lap softly against her legs. Slipping her sandals off, she stepped onto the sand which gave under her feet as she walked, noticing the warmth as she moved out of the shade’s edge.

Dropping her tote bag on the sand, she kept going to the water. The sand grew courser, but the water didn’t have the chill she expected. It was warm with the merest hint of cool. Instantly, she relaxed and stood there with water up to her calves, feeling the slight surge with the waves. A deep breath had her closing her eyes as the sand sang around her when the water retreated.

Everything was so fresh, so lovely. She smelled salt mixed with the faint coconut of her sunscreen. Should she take the wrap off and go for a swim, or sit down in the warm sand and just take in the sight around her? With eyes still closed she faced the sun, worried for it’s paleness. There had been a time when she hadn’t been so pale, during those endless summer days of her childhood.

She was another person like this, in a place like this. Partly her old self from long ago when everything had been wonderful, and part something else. This had a homely feel she couldn’t describe, as if she belonged here—even as this place was completely different from the vacations she’d had as a child. This was the ocean, nature and sheer loveliness, and it felt like she belonged here.

 

 

Tropical Hotel

Emily’s shirt stuck to her back, with that uncomfortable feeling of sweat that had trickled down. Her pants felt like sausage casings as she stood in the gorgeous lobby, waiting for her room key. This vacation had been a long time coming, and getting here was a nightmare. Plane, bus, taxi. It had sounded easy, and technically, it wasn’t hard, but the heat and the foreignness had made every step seem dire, as if she couldn’t recover if one thing along the steps went wrong.

“Here is your key, madam,” the small woman behind the counter said and smiled. “The lifts are just to the left, over there,” she finished, pointing with her whole hand.

Grabbing her rolling suitcase, and readjusting the bag on her shoulder, she took the key and smiled in return. The lobby really was nice, with a huge bouquet just at the entrance. The space was vast and cool. Those were real flowers too. Gentle music played, the instrumental kind where the notes were indistinguishable, yet somehow lulling. There was a bar further along and then huge windows facing sheer, green lushness.

This trek didn’t feel worth it yet, but it would be—once she got these ankle high boots off. In her planning, they had seemed the best options to deal with both the cold at home and the warmth here, but her feet were sweltering.

The lift enclosed her in darkness for a moment, again with the soft music and the gold and dark mirrors around her. It was nice. The floor counter was lit up with green numbers, ticking over as she ascended. Everything was nice, which it should be. It wasn’t the cheapest option, but she wanted to relax in a bit of luxury. So the vacation was a little shorter than she would have planned otherwise, but she hoped it was worth it.

Plush carpet led her to her room and it was utterly silent down the long hall. Rearranging her bag, which she’d haphazardly shoved her coat into, she pressed the card to the plate and was met with the gratifying click that unlocked the door.

Sheer coolness met her as she walked in, the bag falling awkwardly from her shoulder, freeing her of the burden she’d hauled with her the entire way. She dropped everything and quickly took off her boots. Her body was still warm, but the coolness caressed her.

There was a large bed with crisp, white linen. A small sofa and a table, then a desk and more chairs on the balcony outside. Beyond it was the lush greenness she’d come for, but for right now she luxuriated in the cool of the room. As soon as she opened the door, that heat would come in, and she’d want that, but just not yet.

Sitting down on the bed, she leaned back and let the crisp sheets meet her. The room smelled nice, like clean sheets and a hint of … was that iris? It was so faint, but it was welcoming. She felt like the dirtiest thing in the room. Maybe she should have a shower now, so she could enjoy all this properly, with clean hair, clean body, and the soft vacation clothes she’d packed in her suitcase. She wanted to put everything about getting her behind her and start from now. But right this moment, she couldn’t get herself off the bed, where she could stretch out in every direction, and it was all hers.  

 

 

Illness at the Office - Nirvana Series

Talian swivelled back and forth gently in her chair, thinking about how she wanted to direct the AI to analyse. “Gopher,” she said, “can you compare analyse the grain consumption last month in relation to the weather patterns.” She had no idea why they called the AI gopher. It was some kind of animal that had existed back on the original Earth, and someone had named this AI after it.

“Grain consumption has steadily declined throughout the month,” Gopher answered. “A slight negative correlation with increased precipitation, of negative eight point five.” It wasn’t nothing.  

“Has it rained above normal levels?” she asked.

“For the average, it is five point three percent above normal.”

That wasn’t nothing either. So why did people eat less grain than normal? Was this just an anomaly, or should they adjust the import requirements? This report was due in two hours, and she needed to make a recommendation.

Across the room, she saw Haya at her desk, who was busy pulling together the other part of the report, focus more on meat products. She looked troubled, leaning over her desk, stroking the middle of her forehead in small circles.

“What’s the matter?” Talian asked and Haya grudgingly looked over.

“I just don’t feel well. It’s been coming on for a few days. Maybe I’ve caught a cold. Like, it hasn’t developed, but I’m not myself.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Talian suggested.

“I will after I finish this report,” Haya said and sat up straighter. “I’m going to have to answer if I don’t deliver it on time.”

Well, not really. The Department of Food and Agriculture wouldn’t hold it against her if she went home because she felt unwell, but Haya was a bit of a martyr. It was one of her more annoying qualities, actually. Always lamenting how much she had to do, she couldn’t spare a moment for most things.

“Did you know it’s rained five percent more than average?” Talian said and Haya looked over at her, unimpressed.

“There’s always variance,” Haya stated, suggesting Talian was wasting her time. See there, that was Haya’s most annoying quality. She couldn’t just say, ‘oh, that’s strange.’ With absolutely everything, she had to come back in some way stating you were wrong.

“I’m getting a coffee,” Talian said, luxuriating in the idea that she wasn’t madly rushing to finish her report. It was a little dig, but she couldn’t help herself. Ever since she’d started in this job, Haya had been competitive with her in tiny ways that no one else noticed.

Talian walked to the small kitchenette, which overlooked the lush gardens outside. The sun made the foliage bright, but in the shaded places, dew drops still clung on from the morning. No one would have noticed the increase precipitation if Gopher didn’t pull the info together. Well, the meteorological people probably noticed. They’d write reports about things like that.

Keller walked into the kitchen and leaned on the bench. “I need a coffee,” he said. He didn’t look his usual self either.

“Did you have a hard night last night?” Talian asked. He wasn’t usually one to act irresponsible on a worknight.

“No, do I look like it? I feel like it,” he replied.

“You don’t feel well?” Talian asked. Both him and Haya. “Something must be going around.”

“Geste isn’t here today. Or Larse. They both called in sick.”

Talian stopped what she was doing and stared at him. She wasn’t feeling sick. “That’s strange.”

“The milk tastes off. Have you noticed?” he said.

Talian shook her head. “I don’t drink milk.”

“Maybe it’s the milk making us all unwell.”

“Go home.”

“I have too much to do.”

Seriously, how had he and Haya not gotten together, Talian thought tartly. Because Haya’s standards were too high.

For a moment, he looked unsteady on his feet, and Talian rushed to catch him in case he passed out. “You need to go home,” she said more forcefully.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said and smiled weakly. “I feel like shit.”

“Go home.”

​

​Talian

There was a table, and a chair, and the checkered tablecloth that seemed familiar. Light glowed through the curtains over the sink, having almost a liquid quality. Talian knew this room. It was from her past. The baking bowl, the worn furniture. This was her grandmother’s house, but she had no idea why she was here. She was supposed to be going somewhere, but it was a vague impulse. Instead, she was here.

“Nana,” she called, but there was only silence. Unease crept up her spine. Was something wrong? She was supposed to be here. Where else would she be?

Walking through to the small living room, she searched. That unease was shifting to panic, but then she saw a figure in the garden and felt instant relief. There she was, pottering in the garden. Her slightly rounded back, covered with clothes that didn’t make sense together. That was her grandmother, and it was wonderful seeing her.

Things had been bad, but she couldn’t remember why. Now she was outside in the bright sunshine, but it looked unfamiliar. She didn’t know this garden.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” her grandmother asked, and the question confused her. Has she been looking for something? Yes, she had. Something.

“I came here instead.”

“You won’t find it here.”

“I can’t remember what I was looking for.” Talian turned around as if something would remind her. This wasn’t a place she knew. It was a beautiful garden, though. Everything in full bloom. She could see dew drops and the tiny spider web strings glistening in the light, and a birdbath.

“How are you, Talian?” her grandmother asked.

“I’m fine.” Was she? Something bad had happened. “I…” she started. She noticed the area beyond the garden, beyond the low picket fence. A wheat field where the wind form patterns across the yellow expanse. This felt right, but she knew it wasn’t right. “You died.”

“That’s not why you’re here.” Her grandmother moved along and snipped a leaf off a plant. Talian had never really gotten the hang of gardening. She liked gardens, but there had always been more exciting things to do than spend time in them. The past and present entwined, and she didn’t know where she was.

“No,” she said. “Ewin was destroyed.”

This was Ewin, she realized. How could that be? But it was. Different, but here. As with everything else, it was just knowledge that was there in her mind. A certainty that couldn’t be questioned. But it was also something else. “This was all destroyed.” Sadness bit into her. Everything she’d ever known. Her grandmother’s house was destroyed. Her school, her entire childhood. Everyone she’d known.

“Nothing you hold inside you is ever destroyed,” Nana said. There was a watering can in her hand now. A bird was still washing itself in the birdbath, its feathers bright blue, looking like a blur as it dipped itself and shook the water off. It wasn’t scared of them. There was curiosity in its shiny black eye.

“I don’t know what to do. Where am I supposed to go? I don’t want to leave.” She wanted her future to be in a little garden like this, a little cottage where everything was worn and comfortable, but it was all gone. How could that even be?

“Something came and destroyed everything. It came out of the earth, made everyone sick. I’m not sick.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

They were in the kitchen. So many of her summers had been spent here, sitting at this table, eating the meals her grandmother had prepared for her. “These are my memories.”

“You were happy here.”

“Yes.”

“Sit down, I’ll make you something to eat.”

They were outside again. In a barn. It wasn’t familiar, but it felt familiar. There was a goat and horse, and her grandmother was giving them oats.

“Eustace is sick,” she said. “Very sick.”

Her grandmother turned to her. “He may not make it.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear, a possibility she didn’t want to face. “I’ll be alone.”

There was another person in the barn, but she didn’t care about them. Neither did she perceive them as a threat.

“You fear you won’t be alright if he dies,” Nana said.

“It’s so unfair. It’s so unfair all this happened. All those people who died. Why? Everyone I’ve ever known, except for Eustace, and I might lose him too.” For a moment, things seemed to turn dark, as if a threat lay in wait outside the barn. Talian turned and looked but couldn’t see the source of it. She felt it, though. It was unmistakable, like a creeping animal stalking outside of her eye sight. “We’re safe in here.” They weren’t safe outside, so they had to stay in here.

“Yes,” her grandmother said. “We’re always safe in here.”

“But it’s all gone. You’re gone.”

The scenery shifted again and they were on a precipice, looking over a forest. Behind the tree tops, the sun was setting. The pine tops, the river in the distance. It looked so serene. “This is all gone. It’s disappearing. Everyone has died. What if we can’t ever come back?”

Her grandmother sat down on the rock and Talian followed. It didn’t look destroyed. Green trees stretched as far as she could see. Birds flew in the distance. They had all died too.

“Is your heart invested with this man?” Nana asked.

It was a question she didn’t know how to answer. “We were friends. We had lunch sometimes, but I didn’t really know him well. We weren’t friends outside of that. Now he’s all I have. I don’t even have shoes. My shoe got stuck in the mud and I lost it, but I couldn’t go back.” Looking down, she saw one of her feet was bare and covered in mud. “He found me some shoes. I think someone died and I have their shoes.”

“You had hope for this man, even before this happened.”

The statement jarred her, and for a moment, she wanted to deny it. Was that true? Had she had feelings for Eustace? Had she hoped their relationship would develop into more than just having lunch occasionally? Eustace was a lot of things—he was smart, and not entirely unattractive, and he was single.

Was that the reason he’d had lunch with her? Had he wondered if there could be something more between them?

She was so profoundly grateful that she was experiencing this with him. Just the idea of losing him was devastating. He couldn’t die, when he was so strong, so solid. That’s one of the things she liked about him. There was a steadiness.

“I might be dying too,” she said after a while.

“Does that scare you?”

“Of course. Who wouldn’t be frightened of dying?” A tension tore through her again, thinking of all those people who’d faced their deaths. The mining man who’d been wheezing as they’d escaped Ewin. He must have known his number was up. Everyone who started wheezing died. She couldn’t imagine knowing her death was imminent. Even now, when she knew she could be dying, it wasn’t the same as knowing she was dying. Unlike Eustace, she didn’t have any symptoms.

“Maybe none of us survive this. We’re all fooling ourselves into thinking we’ve survived, when the ship is just a hospital for the dying. People are dying everywhere. It’s awful.”

And yet her grandmother was utterly serene. The view across this forest was perfectly calm and normal. More birds flew across the vast openness, as if there was absolutely nothing suggesting something was wrong.

“You’re strong, Talian. You will survive this,” Nana said and Talian turned to look into her eyes, that were old and a little rheumy. She’d loved her grandmother so much, and when she’d died, Talian had never really comprehended that she wouldn’t be around anymore. And now she was here.

“I don’t want to go back.”

“You have to. You can’t give up now. The worst is over. You made it off the planet. You have a chance.”

“Do I? A chance for what?” A silence descended. Perhaps not even Nana had an answer for that question. Talian had absolutely no idea what came next. Probably Eustace’s death. How could she carry on and have some hope if he died? Did she want to survive if absolutely everyone was gone? There were only strangers on the ship. What was the value of surviving?

A jerk woke her and she knew she was back on the ship. The smell told her. That awful, metallic smell of the hold. Hard, dusty steel underneath her, and her shoulder hurt from it. In a sense, she was sorry about losing the reprieve of the dream. What a strange dream. It had been years since she’d dreamed of her grandmother. Even so, something about it had been comforting, but she couldn’t say why. Maybe because she could still dream of her. If so, she would dream of everyone else too—all those people she’d never see again.

Eustace lay with his back to her. His body wracked by a coughing fit, but she couldn’t tell if he was awake. Well, he was alive. That was the important part. For a moment, she closed her eyes and wished she was somewhere else. The dream had felt like an escape. Her grandmother had a way of making her feel that everything was alright, even when the world had literally destroyed itself. This was as far from alright as she could get.

Thirst made her throat feel like sandpaper. Probably made worse by all the dust on the floor. That couldn’t be helping him either—breathing in all that dirt.

Sitting up, she looked over at him. It seemed he was asleep. A sheen covered his face, and she wondered if he had a fever. With her fingers, she reached out and touched his back. He was warm, but it was hard to tell if he had a fever, particularly as she felt frozen herself. They didn’t have any blankets. They had nothing.

A sea of people stretched around her. Bodies lay on the floor, some of them wheezing. They were dying, and so far, they had found nothing to help. A few people were crying, and the odd person was wandering along the makeshift walkway created through the mass of bodies.

Her feet felt weak as she stood up. Eustace needed to drink. It would help him. The empty glass she’d used before sat close by and she leaned down to grab it. As it was a bacteria causing this, he shouldn’t be contagious, as such. Or maybe he was. How would she know? She knew nothing about these things.

Glass in hand, she stepped along the narrow pathways between sleeping bodies. The lights were still blaring, but she supposed it would be pitch black in here if they turned off. That would be so much worse, having to wake in panic in blackness, after everything.

A couple of people walked passed her, looking like zombies in their exhaustion. They didn’t even make eye contact. Perhaps she looked like that too—dirty clothes, dusty hair and hopelessness etched on her face.

The mess hall was brighter than the other spaces. A few people were sitting in silence at the tables. Not everyone could sleep, it seemed, but she was glad she’d managed. Her dream had made her feel better, even if it was just a concoction of her mind. Because the people they’d lost were still in their hearts. It sounded sappy, but she’d just spent time with her grandmother, and she could choose to believe that was real.

A spout along the wall had water, and she poured some into the glass and drank it. There was coffee, but she knew she’d only feel worse if she had some now. Refilling the glass again, she stood there for a moment. She didn’t want to leave. In here, right now, things seemed normal. It was just a cafeteria. Back in the hold, it was all disaster.

Could she pretend nothing had happened, that she was on vacation? Not that she’d ever spend her vacation somewhere like this. Taking a deep breath, she tried to pull herself together. Still, she couldn’t make herself move. If Eustace wasn’t going to make it, she didn’t want to experience him dying, but she also felt she owed it to him.

They didn’t know each other that well, really, but he was her entire world now. Since the moment they’d understood how bad this was, it had been him and her, and he’d literally saved her life by knowing this ship was in orbit. He’d saved them by working out how to get here. How had he gotten sick and not her? How was that fair when he’d known all the right things to do?

Forcing herself to walk, she left the mess hall, but ended up turning the wrong direction. She got lost for a moment, and then she saw that room, the nice one with the windows. It really was the nicest space in the ship. It probably had some function, but it was filled with sleeping people here too. The lucky ones who’d claimed a space here. From the door, she could see out through the large windows.

Ewin was below them, dark with night. Clusters of light occasionally. Lights no one had turned off. Was anyone alive down there? They’d stopped coming. The shuttle had even sent down to Ewin to bring people up, but few were coming now.

It was so hard to see the future. Perhaps they didn’t have one. It was one day at a time, one moment.

She was being selfish being here, because she needed to go back. Eustace needed her. Pulling herself straight, she looked down at the clear water in her glass. She couldn’t avoid anything that was to come, no matter how any of this turned out.

With determination, she walked back again, finding her way through the corridors and emerging into the massive hold again. These were the people left from Ewin’s population. The survivors. There were a few families, people clinging to each other.

Carefully carrying the water back, she found Eustace, who hadn’t moved. Still lying on his side with his arms clasped around him. Kneeling down, she tried to get him to drink, but he wouldn’t wake. “Eustace,” she said, pressing on his shoulder.

“Roll him onto his back,” a voice said. Talian looked up to see a man, one she’d seen in the medical bay. It was too crowded in there to take any more people, and the sickest tended to be taken there. “Hold his head up. He’ll drink. He’ll do it automatically. Just be careful so he doesn’t inhale it.”

“How do I do that?” she replied.

The man shrugged. “Like I said, carefully. It’s important he gets water and this is the only way. Wet his lips first and then start giving it to him. Here, let me,” he said, taking the glass out of her hand. “But he needs to be on his back.”

Talian lifted his head up, and he was incredibly heavy. “You have to drink, Eustace,” she said.

The man put the glass to his lips. It didn’t seem to work for a moment, but then she saw Eustace swallow. It was working. Relief flooded her, because those moments when he hadn’t drunk had felt like a death sentence. There was no assurance this would save him, but dehydration would probably kill him even if the bacteria didn’t.

“Good,” the man said and Talian looked up to see him giving her the glass back. “You need to make sure he drinks as much as possible. At least every couple of hours. He has a chance if he does. He’s hung in so far, so he’s strong.”

The man walked away.

“How much?” she called, but he didn’t turn back. That would have been useful information. “You need to drink some more.” Placing the glass to his lips, she tried to get him to drink again and he did for a moment, then stopped. Now she didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t take any more. “Please drink some more,” she said close to his ear, but he wasn’t listening.

Maybe she needed to give him a moment and then try again. Placing the glass down, she sighed and looked around. His head was still in her lap and she just left him there. It would grow heavy, but not so she had to shift yet. Was it good to leave him on his back like this? All these questions she didn’t have any answers to.

A woman was moving next to them. She was there with a child who looked to be around eight. Her hair was messy and her makeup had run, which made her look even worse, but none of them looked well. It certainly wasn’t a high priority.

“Is he sick?” the woman asked and Talian nodded.

“I’m sorry. Your husband?”

“A friend.”

The woman adjusted her skirt as she tried to sit comfortably, but it was too tight. “I certainly didn’t dress for the occasion.”

They sat in silence for a while. “Do you know what’s happening?” the woman asked.

“I haven’t heard anything. I assume help is coming. Maybe they’ll take us to Hersh.”

“I’d rather not go there, but I suppose we have to go wherever they take us now. At least until this thing passes, whatever it is. Provided we don’t get sick. Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”

Absently, she stroked her child’s hair and then she smiled briefly before lying down again, and now Talian felt alone again. Picking up the water, she carefully held it to Eustace’s mouth. “Drink,” she stated a little forcefully, but it worked. He took a few sips and then stopped. At least he’d had some more.

Carefully shifting his head, she turned him back on his side, and he didn’t wake. Awkwardly, she shifted until she lay down behind him. Why had he gotten sick and she hadn’t? Was it just a matter of time? That man had said it was encouraging that he was still alive, and he wasn’t wheezing, even if his breath was labored. The wheezing seemed to the harbinger of nonrecovery.

Reaching out, she touched his back. “You fight, Eustace. You’re strong. You can beat this.”

With her eyes closed, she tried to think back on her dream, and her grandmother’s comforting presence. Everything had seemed far away in the dream, as if the badness couldn’t really touch them.

Shifting closer, she put her arm around him. They’d never been this close. It wasn’t the kind of relationship they’d had, but the dream had made her wonder if she’d seen more in this friendship. Had they been flirting a bit? Had he felt the same? Right now, it felt as if it was her duty to take care of him, and it wasn’t just because she was returning the favor he’d done her in getting her off Ewin. “You have to make it,” she said. “I don’t want to be here alone.”

It was comforting to feel him breathing, and although she didn’t sleep, she stayed somewhere in a state between waking and sleep. For a long time.

Movement woke her. It seemed to be morning, and people were moving around. Eustace hadn’t moved and she quickly shot up to see that he was still breathing. Maybe even a little less labored. Was that her imagination? But the glass was gone. Someone had taken it. Bastards. He needed water and someone was selfish enough to take her glass. The only thing she could do would be to go to that cafeteria and try to get something she could carry water in.

Rising quickly, she walked as fast as she could, but there was a line when she got there. The smell of food was heavenly, and she could see people carrying away bowls of soup. Luckily, the line moved quickly and there was a basket with an assortment of cups and bowl, some that looked as though they weren’t meant to be crockery. Any bowl would do, and Talian ended up with one in her hand, and a torn piece of bread.

The soup looked thin, so Eustace might be able to have some. Rushing back, she tried not to spill any. More people were up and moving around, which made the space harder to navigate. But there was nowhere to go, really, so most people sat where they’d slept.

That medical bay man was back. “His color’s good,” he said. “It’s a good sign. He made it through the night. Maybe the worst has passed.”

Eustace hadn’t really moved.

“Here,” he said, handing her a blanket. “A rare find, but he probably needs it more than others.”

“Thanks,” Talian said. “How’s it going in the medical bay?”

“They’re dropping like flies.”

“I’m sorry.”

Now that she looked at him, she could see how exhausted he was. Dark shadows made his eyes seem sunken. “There’s nothing we can do, really. We don’t even know why they’re dying. Gets into their lungs somehow.”

“Are more getting sick?”

“Yes, but it looks like it’s only the more recently arrived. How fast you made it off Ewin makes a difference.”

“We got off at the same time,” Talian said, looking down at Eustace, who lay in the exact same position she’d left him in. The Eustace she’d known had been strong and radiating with health.

“Try to get some of that in him. It will do him good.”

“Thanks,” she said as she placed the bowl down, but he was already gone. Taking the blanket, she spread it over Eustace, and tried to get him to eat. He did look better, and he even groaned a bit when she tried to get him to move. “You have to eat,” she said as she shifted around to where she could hold the bowl to his lips. “Live or die, Eustace.” He drank it down.