How odd. The old-fashioned clock read 8:46 p.m. So he hadn’t missed his appointment yet. But then why was a Medevac paying him a visit …?
“Please step onto the balcony. You are wasting precious time.”
Felix unsealed the balcony door — a task Mentor would have normally performed. As he stepped outside and savoured the fresh air, the stretcher’s lid opened with a snake-like hiss. Spying it, Felix was taken aback. Once he climbed inside it and the lid wheeled closed, he’d be linked to a series of soul-less machines.
“Lie down on the stretcher,” the voice enjoined him.
He didn’t want to go. Earlier, he hadn’t cared if the authorities swooped in, but now that his freedom was endangered he was sorely afraid. And not just afraid: he was angry and defiant.
“Lie down on the stretcher,” the voice insisted. “We are falling behind schedule.”
“You’re mistaken,” he yelled back. “I don’t have the disease.”
“Lie down!” the voice repeated. “We will not ask you again.”
“Can’t you hear me? I’m not sick. And why did you disable my domestic system?”
He sensed its approach at the very last instant. Glancing around, he saw a fist-sized sphere had stationed itself behind him. It was a BISDM — a Brain Interference Signal Delivery Mechanism. Before he could duck or jump to one side, a wall of energy seemed to engulf him.
As a wave of black struck him, he was thinking he’d never open his eyes again.
“You can open your eyes.”
There was a high-pitched whine far in the background and the continuous beeping of a signal exchange. A blast of air felt nice against his cheek.
“Come on. Hurry. My father’s going to test you once we’ve reached the stratosphere. Open your eyes and talk to me.”
Without stirring, Felix struggled to puzzle things out. His brain had been shocked and his body flung onto a stretcher. And now a Medevac was conveying him to a facility in orbit, unless his refusal to co-operate would land him in jail. Either way, he didn’t care. The trick was to keep his eyes firmly closed.…
“Open your eyes!”
“Stop bossing me around!” he shouted, opening his eyes in spite of himself. To his surprise he was staring at a girl his age, with short, blonde hair, hazel-green eyes, and a chin that suggested she was very self-composed. He also noticed the stretcher’s lid was open.
“The lid is open,” he stated. “So I’m not infected.”
“No.”
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