is an incredible idea that reduces the need for hospitals. But it also reduces the need for cemeteries. If, in that same accident, your heart stopped or your breathing stopped, you can be “restored” in a revive terminal using the copy of your bio-sequence from your SCARAB. That is, if your SCARAB didn’t get destroyed by a bomb blast like mine was in that attack I was in.
It has changed people’s attitudes. Some kids can be reckless and suicidal. Want to see what it feels like to jump off a cliff or blow your brains out? Go ahead. Just make sure you have your SCARAB with you. Most injuries though hurt like hell until your breathing stops. That’s probably the only reason it’s not done too often, at least not deliberately. Broken bones can sting like a bitch if you don’t properly kill yourself in the process. You get revived or restored, but until then, it hurts like hell. I don’t know why I know all this, but something tells me I have firsthand knowledge of using my SCARAB in my earlier life.
The nice part is that a SCARAB isn’t that big. It is just a couple of inches long and half an inch wide and thick, so some people wear them as necklaces or bracelets. I prefer keeping mine on my left side under my arm. I sew small pockets in my bras, and I know I shouldn’t lose them too often. I have lost bras, but so far, I have been able to go back and…well, just never mind, that isn’t any of your business anyway.
The only reason the Nayleans haven’t wiped us out yet is because of the revive terminals. All soldiers have SCARABs. So we can fight on their turf a million miles from home because our numbers can be as countless as theirs. The other reason we haven’t been wiped out yet is that we humans can be devious, deceptive, and dishonest. Nayleans can plan ahead four, five, six moves—if humans do this, we’ll do that and so on. Nayleans can be great chess players, but they don’t lie to one another. They have no reason to. They have a bond between them that goes beyond physical. They can link to another person and feel what each other feels. They simply don’t have any reason to be hurtful or cruel to one another. They don’t care about those things. But humans are always mean to one another and lie to one another.
Is that why I came to feel a lot of hurt and pain from humans—my own kind? I was human once. I was born human. Damn it, I’m still human!
I had just gotten to my quarters when a voice came on the loudspeakers. “Abandon ship! Abandon ship! All personnel to lifeboat stations! Repeat, abandon ship! All personnel to lifeboat stations! Abandon ship!”
We were losing power, and the lights were shutting down. The smell of burning wires and plastic was putrid. Smoke was everywhere and burned my eyes and stung my throat. Somebody came up and grabbed my arm. “You gotta get to the life rafts!”
“I can’t see anything, the smoke! I don’t know where lifeboats are!”
“I’ll take you! Let’s go, FAST!” And he pulled me the opposite way down the corridor. Just then, another explosion knocked us sideways, and he lost his grip on me. He came slamming sideways again in front of me and yelled, “Grab a hold of me!” All I could see was the belt on the back of his pants, and I grabbed it with both hands. When he thought I was secure, he was off again. “Hang on!” and he went farther down the corridor.
We stopped at a junction of corridors, and he asked, “What life raft gate are you?”
Oh, great! I don’t know! Who pays attention to all that shit? We had fire drills. We had loss of oxygen drills. We had gas emission drills. We had isotope leak drills. Who the fuck is paying attention when you finally get around to evacuation drills? That’s like the flight attendant going through safety precautions. Nobody listens.
Then it came to me. “I think level B gate 8 maybe.” I can’t believe I remembered that. He pointed to my right and yelled, “Down there!” And he took off down the other hall. I moved carefully and found it. A crew member was standing at the opening and told me to get in, that I was the last one for this vehicle.
He slapped one of my hands on a bar over the small door opening. I hoisted up and lifted my feet in first. There was a cot that looked like a small cage. I shimmied into it. I guess we take off lying down. He yelled, “Watch yourself! I’m closing the gate.”
A computer voice came on, “Evacuation procedures cannot commence until all passengers are strapped into emergency cots and seat belts are fastened.”
Chapter 2
A Medical Miracle
My head was pounding! God, there’s a pain that started at the back of my neck and rolled to my forehead. I felt like my brain would explode. That’s what must have woke me up. My head’s my first problem. I guess my second problem was where the hell I was.
My sight was fuzzy, but I could tell that I was lying in a bed, and it looked something like a hospital room, but not quite. Chimes were going off somewhere above my left shoulder. It must be something attached to the wall behind me. I’d got an IV stuck in the back of my hand. No, not one IV, there were three, no make that four tubes running into the same needle in my hand. My left arm and hand were in a sling resting on my stomach. I tried to raise my good hand to my head to check that it hadn’t split open and felt that my head was all bandaged too, even down over my right eye.
The door to the room was on my right side, and on the left side was a workbench that looked like a computer station. I recognize it because…I don’t know why I recognize it. Had I been near one before? How is it I can remember something as stupid as a computer worktable but I can’t remember who the hell am I?
Then I heard footsteps at my door, and it quietly opened. A young orderly walked in and looked over at me. He was not in typical hospital scrubs. He wore white shoes, white slacks, and white sport coat with ID tags and a photo card hanging from his top pocket. After checking the IV tubes, he looked at me. “Well, you finally decided to join us. My monitor told me you woke up. Welcome to the land of the conscious. How do you feel?” He did something with some kind of TV remote thing that stopped the chime that was going off over my head.
I stared back at him and must have looked groggy and only half in this world. He smiled and spoke again, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to press you. Can you talk?”
I opened my mouth, but it took a while. “Head hurts…bad.” My left eye started to water.
“Okay, let’s see what we can do here.” He went to the tree of IV hoses and fiddled with a pump. He kept talking. “Let me know if this helps. My name is Chris Broker. I’m your nurse.” He wiped my cheek with a tissue. “Dr. Philippe is your lead physician. He is not on the grounds right now, but I’ve notified him that you’re awake. There are others too, and they are on their way. We weren’t expecting you to wake up so soon; that’s why nobody is here.”
“Where…here?” was all I got out, and I laid my head back in the pillow.
“We’re in the med research facility on one of the Storm Islands.” He must have been able to see that his answer meant nothing to me. “The Storm Islands are south of Aragain, the northern continent. Goldenridge is straight north of us.”
A one-word question came out of me: “Bode…?”
He could tell much of what he said didn’t register on me. “Yes, we’re in the Bode Galaxy. You’re on Hera, the main planet in this sector.” He smiled.
“We…made it?” It was more a statement than a question, but he could tell from my tone that I was unsure of myself.
I saw he was stuck for an answer. “Yes, you made
