Ares by Adams Jayson

Author:Adams, Jayson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fiction Factory Books
Published: 2023-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

WHO KNEW THE afterlife would be so bright?

Was it Heaven? How could she tell? God would be somewhere about, perhaps, would finally have to show Himself. Not that she believed in God. Religion had never made sense, but neither had the idea your essence simply ceased upon your death.

For the record, your life didn’t flash before your eyes on your way out. It was more like … what you loved the most. Whatever that was, the Universe gave you the chance to see it one last time ….

“She’s waking up.”

Shapes and shadows shifted within the brilliant light that filled Kate’s vision. She squinted against the brightness, willing form upon the ephemeral gray patches.

“Quick, grab my medical bag.”

“Here it is.”

“Is she going to be OK?”

Kate’s vision sharpened. The achromatic wisps congealed to solid form, spirits waiting to welcome her to the beyond. Clad in … blue? Wasn’t white the preferred color of the afterlife? Light blue, in fact …. And not a gown or flowing robes, but a jumpsuit? With NASA patches?

“Commander Holman, how are you feeling?”

A soothing voice, part of a calming bedside manner. Palmer. Memories came flooding back: her altercation with Julian. The injection. Pain. Her children. Dying … or not? She was coming to, but not in the afterlife.

Dr. Palmer materialized in front of her, sporting his reassuring physician’s smile. Kate tried to speak but couldn’t coax a sound. “Don’t try to talk,” he said.

She complied, relaxing her throat. Her head hurt. A dull ache pervaded her entire body. She was tired. And she couldn’t move.

“You’re lucky to be alive.”

More of the space around her came into focus. She was inside the Gaia capsule. Three additional jumpsuits—astronauts—hovered nearby, though she couldn’t make out faces. A thin, rough blanket encased her body, a white cocoon surrounding her from neck to toe. Wires protruded from beneath the wrap near her heart, feeding into a small medical scanner held by Dr. Palmer.

“Your vitals are stable,” said Palmer. “They’ve been stable for a while; you’ve just been unconscious all this time. I wasn’t sure if you’d wake.”

The doctor moved in close and waved a flashlight into Kate’s pupils. The encounter nagged at her with an oddness she fought to pin down …: she’d been upright for her face-to-face with Palmer, their eyes meeting directly. And the cabin lights, instead of shining in her eyes, loomed overhead …. She was vertical, not on her back. But not standing, either. Her feet dangled a meter from the deck. She hung in her cocoon along an empty stretch of bulkhead, suspended and wrapped like a spider’s catch.

“Sorry for the crude accommodations,” continued Palmer, moving on to inspect her ears, “but coming up with an arrangement that satisfied all the constraints was a little tricky. We needed you nearby, in case your condition changed, which is why you’re not below. We also needed to keep you warm, and not allow you to drift across the cabin.”

Drift? Indeed, Palmer’s feet floated above the deck; they didn’t touch it.

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