Ascension: Universe Eventual by N.J. Tanger & Nathan Beauchamp

Author:N.J. Tanger & Nathan Beauchamp [Tanger, N.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Centrifuge Press
Published: 2017-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN: MEMORY SHARE

I woke with the instant crystallization of consciousness that comes from sleep-abatement drugs, but without any of the commensurate warmth or tingling muscles. My CATO overlay registered columns of gibberish scrolling past my half-closed eyes. A dome of white stretched above. Had I fallen asleep in the sphere?

A profound cold seeped outward from my bones, through my flesh, powerful enough to turn my damp skin white with frost. I shivered, squinting into bright light. A tube ran from a vein in my forearm, up to a translucent bulb of liquid. A wallscreen to my right displayed a variety of data. Unlike my garbled CATO feed, it seemed to have consensus, units, and was built to a meaning just beyond the reach of my ability to comprehend.

“He’s coming out of it,” said a male voice.

“Ashley? Can you hear me?” A woman with a bhindi leaned over me, eyes clouded with worry. I knew I should say something; confirm that I was, as far as I knew, fine. But I couldn’t coax my voice into action. My tongue stuck to my dry palate. I coughed,almost vomited, mouth suddenly filled with foul, acidic saliva.

“Neural activity is back to near-normal levels,” the male voice said. “He’s exiting the dream state.”

Dream state?

“Ashley?” The woman again. “Can you hear me?”

The hand not linked to an IV rose to touch her—a shocking familiarity, one that sent heat into my face, before something hard and invisible met my hand and stopped it in its path. Cold, smooth, curving over my torso. My body. Naked. Encased in glass. Despite the intense cold, I broke into a nervous sweat.

“It’s okay, baby,” the woman said. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Are you…?” I couldn’t quite make the connection.

“You’re going to be okay.” Almost a sob.

“Bring him out,” said another male voice, deeper and more resonant than the last. “I want to talk to him.”

Something began to hiss, and the air quality changed, warming, gaining humidity. Airlock. No, not an airlock, but something like it. Hermetically sealed. The glass boundary slid away, leaving me lying naked atop a narrow bed.

“How do you feel?” the deep-voiced man asked.

“Like shit.”

The man gave me a half-smile. “We all owe you our lives.”

I wanted to ask why. Instead, I asked for water.

The woman pressed a bulb to my lips, her bare skin brushing mine, sending shard-like images of her through my mind. Naked, stepping from a shower. Curling pubic hair, breasts covered with micro droplets of water. From extreme cold to extreme heat. I pulled myself into a sitting position, knees against my chest. I drank the entire bulb, water soothing my dry throat, giving me a moment to try and regain my dignity.

“We thought we’d lost you,” the woman said. “Like Black.”

“Is Linnet in the sphere?”

The deep-voiced man and the woman looked at one another.

“She’s gone, Ashley,” the woman said. “Don’t you remember?”

“Gone?”

“Dead. She died. Many days ago. You’ve been working to find her replacement, testing candidates.”

My face must have communicated my confusion because another meaningful look passed between the woman with the bhindi and the men.

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