did, but he knew what Teladorian sounded like. Out of the other end of the object a digital voice suddenly said, “what do you need?”
She held the round end of the object close to his mouth.
“I’m cold,” he repeated, “I need water.”
He didn’t hear anything, but she nodded. From the side of his cot, she removed a hose. She motioned for him to put it to his mouth. He sucked on the end of the hose. Cool water filled his mouth. While he drank, he noticed she adjusted a lamp hanging over him. He felt his skin get warmer. Up to that point he thought they were outside, but now he realized the Teladorians gathered all the sick humans under a canopy of some kind. The light shining on him was a lamp, not the sun.
“I need medicine,” he said.
The Teladorian spoke into the device.
“There is no medicine for this sickness,” her digitalized voice came back.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He felt himself drifting back to sleep. He listened to the sounds of all the sick humans around him. He wondered what it was that hit the town? Had they been attacked? And why were the Teladorians here? He drifted off to sleep wondering about the answers to those questions.
When he awoke next, he was being lifted into some kind of land vehicle. After a few minutes, the vehicle started moving. He head still hurt. His body still ached, but he felt much better. He did not recognize a man laying next to him on another cot. The Teladorian female sat nearby.
“How do you feel?” she asked, using the same device as before.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“To a better place,” she answered.
The Teladorian female later told him that he and the other man were the only survivors from their town. Only two people out of a population of nearly three-thousand! He remembered the faces of those who befriended him since he moved to the colony- the old woman next door who always gave him tomatoes from her garden, the Chinese man at the hardware depot who always knew how to order hard to get items, the handicapped vet down the street who took such good care of his dog. He wished he had another chance to thank them.
The vehicle took them to a small city about 20 miles down the road. He remembered visiting the hospital there for a physical examination when he first arrived on the colony. The Teladorians moved them into a ward room on the ground floor of the very same hospital with about twenty other people, mostly men, several women, but no children. The people stared at them as they were wheeled him into the ward. He could see by the look on their faces that they had all been through the same ordeal as he did.
Once the Teladorians left, the others began to ask questions. Where did you come from? What happened? How many survived from your town? Everyone in the ward was a stranger to him, but he quickly felt a common bond between them. He spoke freely like one speaking to an old friend, not pausing to measure his words. For someone who grew up without brothers or sisters, he thought he now understood what it felt like to have siblings. They were a family born of a common background….humanity. They shared a common name….. suffering. And they now looked to each other for support to face the unknown that lay ahead of them.
Eventually the ward quieted down. They began to take turns talking. From the many stories it was easy to see that the colony had been attacked. But by who and for what reason? Nobody knew. Since they were the only survivors from dozens of locations, they estimated that the gas attacks probably killed tens of thousands of humans on the planet. They talked about what they should do. Some wanted to take action, but nobody was strong enough to even get out of bed. In the end, the consensus seemed to be that everything would get sorted out as soon as the military arrived. And everyone seemed to be expecting them soon. Some put their heads down to rest. Others continued talking in smaller groups. The man lying next to him motioned for him to listen.
“I used to fly this route,” he whispered, “from Beta VII to this colony. I was a star pilot before I retired. It will take the military more than a week to get out here even if there is a ship in this sector.”
That night he could not sleep. The Teladorian female came over and sat on the end of his bed.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Better,” he told her, “I’m getting better.”
“By tomorrow you will have a relapse,” she told him.
“How do you know?” he asked.
“I am a doctor.”
She was right. By the next morning sounds of coughing filled the ward. The Teladorians brought lamps in, placing them over each bed. It was all too familiar. First, he noticed his head hurting, then he began to feel cold. Next his throat became dry. By that time his head was pounding. He rolled from one side of the cot to the other, stretched his legs and curled them up, but he could find no position comfortable for more than a few moments. He heard someone vomiting. Next it was his turn. Someone moaned on one side of him. Someone cried on the other side.
“God, help us!” he heard a man shout.
The Teladorian doctor came by, checked him several times, but she said nothing. He knew the location of the water tube. He knew the routine. All afternoon it continued, the minutes crawling by. Every time he felt like he could endure no more, he endured it. The sounds of the ward gradually became background noise. He trudged along a road of endless turns, trying to go faster, always hoping the next turn would be the last. But each turn lead to yet another turn. Into the night it continued. The monotony grew to such a crescendo he thought he might burst. Then the pounding in his head began to subside. Chills stopped racking his body. It was over. It was over. He tried to sit up. He wanted to dance. But he felt the weakness in his joints. The ward became quiet again.
The doctor came by and gave him some juice to sip. It tasted wonderful.
“I am going to take a sample of your blood,” she said.
“Are there going to be anymore relapses?” he asked.
“No, the worst is over,” she said.
“Then we will be able to leave this place?” he asked “We can go back to our homes?”
“No,” she said, “we are taking you on to another hospital. These others are all dead.”
It took awhile to sink in. All these people whom he befriended, all these brothers and sisters in his new family. They were gone. Tears came to his eyes. The Teladorians left him alone in the ward. He began to weep. Why did he keep living while others around him kept dying? It didn’t make sense. In anger he told himself he didn’t want to go on anymore, not if it meant watching others die. What good was it to be the last man alive?
Transport to the next settlement passed in a blur. Before he knew it, the Teladorians were carrying him into another hospital. The Teladorian doctor accompanied him as before. They took him by elevator to one of the upper floors. His brain was running so fast he didn’t even check what floor they got off on. They wheeled him into a large room with three other humans. There was a young woman in one corner and two men on the other side. The men looked surprised to see him, but they smiled.
When the Teladorians left, the men began to talk to him. They asked him where he came from. One of the men came from a distant settlement south of the equator, a distance of over three thousand miles. The other came from the main space port. Both had the same story he did. They were survivors. They had watched hundreds, maybe thousands of their fellow humans die along the way.
“What about her?” the man asked, pointing at the woman.
“She won’t talk,” they told him.
The two men wasted no time in telling him their theory of what happened. They believed that the Teladorians intentionally set a virus loose on the colony. One of the men was a scientist who studied diseases. He was sure of it.
“Why would they do that?” he asked them.
“Teladorian physiology is very similar to human physiology,” the scientist said, “I believe they are looking for a cure to some disease.”
“Perhaps it has become a plague on their ho
me planet,” the other man said.
The man thought how the Teladorian doctor always seemed to know about his condition.
“So you think we’re something like guinea pigs, lab rats?” the man asked.
The scientist nodded. “Teladorians are known for their arrogance, their lack of concern for other races.”
He had not known that, but he thought back to the first day. Except for the female Teladorian, he could not recall an act of compassion from one of the Teledorians. They took care of the sick humans, but they did not seem to care about them. They invested very little of their emotions.
“But they must know this will mean war?” the man asked.
The scientist nodded. “Perhaps they are so desperate, they are willing to take that chance?”
The man thought about what the scientist told him. He thought about what he should do if it were true. He felt his strength returning. He guessed he might be strong enough now to overpower the doctor, but how far would he get? And where would he get weapons from? They would need weapons for protection….. to fight. The Teladorians he saw only carried translators and medical devices.
The next morning the female Teladorian came to take his blood.
“Why was it necessary for so many humans to die?” he asked, quiet enough for the others not to hear.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was nearby.
“Everyone on my planet is dying,” she said.
“But….. but…..