The Seventh Science Fiction MEGAPACK ®. Robert Silverberg
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wave of dizziness spread over me, and I spent the next couple of minutes trying not to fall over on my side. I don’t remember what happened next, but when my head cleared she was sitting next to me, steadying me with her body. It felt good, and I pretended I was still dizzy so she wouldn’t move away. I think she knew it, but she stayed there anyway.
“How long before I can walk?” I asked at last.
“I’ll make you some crutches in three or four days,” she said. “After all, you’ll need some practice if you’re to get to your contact point in time for the ship that’s picking you up.”
“So I’m stuck here for three days, maybe four,” I said unhappily.
“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically. “I’ll try to make you as comfortable as possible, but you’re very weak and your temperature is dangerously high. I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see much of the planet.”
“What makes you think I’m here to explore Nikita?” I asked sharply.
“Why else would you have come?” replied Rebecca. “I’ll help you into your bubble tonight. You’ll have to stay there; you’re too weak to move any farther than that.”
“I know,” I admitted with a sigh. “It’s going to be a boring few days. I wish to hell I’d brought some disks to read.”
“We can discuss our favorite books,” she offered. “It will make the time pass more pleasantly.”
I don’t know why I was surprised that she read—I mean, hell, everybody reads—but I was. “Who are your favorites?” I asked.
“Cisco, Jablonski, and Hedburg.”
“You’re kidding!” I exclaimed. “Those are my favorites too! At least we’ll have something to talk about after dinner.”
And we did. We talked for hours, and not just about books either. I’d never felt so comfortable with anyone in my life. We talked about hopes and dreams, about regrets, about everything. It was amazing: she seemed to mirror my every thought, my every secret longing. And when we’d fall silent, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, the kind you feel you have to speak into; I was just as happy to look at her as listen to her. She’d grown up on an alien world thousands of light years from Earth, and I knew almost nothing about her: where she lived, what she had done with her life prior to saving mine, even her last name—and yet my last waking thought was that I was already a little bit in love with her.
I don’t know how long I slept. I woke up when I felt Rebecca applying some salve to the gashes on my cheeks and neck.
“Don’t move,” she said gently. “I’ll be done in another minute.”
I held still until she was through, then opened my eyes and realized that we were inside my bubble.
“I’m surprised you could drag me in here without help,” I said. “I must really have been out of it, not to wake up while you were moving me.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said with a smile.
“Good,” I said. “Give me a hand up, and let me hobble out into the fresh air.”
She began reaching out for me, then froze.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” she said. “Don’t try to stand without me; you could damage your splint.”
“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Are you all right?”
But she had already run off into the nearby stand of trees, and I lost sight of her.
It was puzzling. The only logical explanation was that she’d eaten something rotten and she was going off to be sick, but I didn’t buy it. She’d run too gracefully, and she’d shown no discomfort, not the least little bit, prior to leaving.
I decided to try getting up on my own despite her orders. It was a disaster. The way my leg was splinted I simply couldn’t do it. As I tried to position it, I realized that the bandages were soaked and foul-smelling. I rubbed a finger against them, then held it up. It wasn’t blood, just something yellow-greenish. I didn’t know whether that was a good sign or a bad one.
That’s some carnivore, that Nightstalker, I thought. I wondered why it hadn’t taken over the planet. Then I realized that except for Rebecca, who wasn’t native to Nikita, I hadn’t seen anything much larger than a raccoon or a possum, so maybe it had taken over the planet. It seemed a reasonable conclusion, but I’d served on just enough alien planets to know that reasonable and right often had very little to do with each other.
Then Rebecca was back, as immaculate as ever. She took one look at my leg and said, “I told you not to try standing up without me.”
“Something’s wrong with it,” I said. “It smells bad, and it’s wet.”
“I know,” she said. “I’ll fix it. Trust me, Gregory.”
I looked into her face and found, to my surprise, that I did trust her. I was alone and possibly dying a zillion miles from home, being tended with leaves and herbs by a girl I’d known for only a few days, and I trusted her. I had half a notion that if she told me to walk off a cliff I’d have done it.
“While we’re discussing health,” I said, “how’s yours?”
“I’m fine, Gregory,” she said. “But I’m flattered to know you were worried about me.”
“Of course I was,” I said. “You’re the person who’s keeping me alive.”
“That’s not why you were worried,” she said.
“No,” I admitted, “it’s not.”
There was a momentary silence.
“Well, are you ready to hobble outside?” she asked. “I’ll help you to that tree. You can prop yourself up against it when you sit, and the branches and leaves will shade you from the sun. It can get very warm here at midday.”
“I’m ready,” I said.
She took my right hand in both of hers and pulled. It hurt like hell for a minute, but then I was on my feet.
“Lean on my shoulder,” she said as she helped me turn toward the bubble’s entrance.
I half-hopped, half-hobbled through it. The tree was some forty feet away. I’d gone about half that distance when my good foot went into some kind of rodent hole, and I started falling. I reached out, grabbing for her blouse, and then the strangest thing happened—instead of grabbing cloth, my fingers slid down her naked skin. I could see the blouse, but it wasn’t there. She pivoted, trying to catch me, and my hand came into contact with her bare breast, slid over her nipple, down a naked hip and thigh, and then I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud! The pain was excruciating.
Rebecca was beside me in an instant, positioning my leg, putting her hands under my head, doing what she could to comfort me. It took a good five minutes for the burning in my leg and arm to subside, but eventually it did, at least enough for me to consider what had happened.
I reached out to her shoulder, felt the cloth of her blouse, and ran my hand down the side of her body. The texture of the cloth changed when I got to her slacks, but there was no naked flesh—yet I knew I hadn’t hallucinated it. You hallucinate after you’re in agony, like now, not before.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“You fell.”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” I said. “It’s unbecoming in someone as smart and lovely. Just tell me what’s happening.”
“Try to rest,” she said. “We’ll talk later.”
“You said yesterday that you wouldn’t lie to me. Did you mean it?”