Noises and voices echoed around Ferrassie. She couldn’t move. Her body tingled numbly. Her vision was clouded and her hearing came in and out. She blinked and struggled to make the world come into focus. Oil-on-water colours swirled above her. A high-pitched buzz filled her ears and her fat tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Two dark shapes loomed over her, the light around them sharp in her dry eyes. She blinked.
‘Ferrassie, you have to wake up.’ Lars’s voice. His hand so cool on her burning cheeks. ‘Amud got in contact with the free-Neos. But we must depart tonight.’
‘She’s very crook.’ Amud’s voice came out of the blur.
‘She’s burning up,’ Lars said. ‘Can you walk, Ferrassie?’
Ferrassie tried to sit up. A faint hum came from her throat.
‘Is she even conscious?’ Amud said. ‘This is not great.’
‘I could carry her, I suppose,’ said Lars. ‘This is our last opportunity to get her out.’
‘She’s gotta go to the medical centre. This kind of virus can kill a Neo.’
Lars’s voice, warped and distant, lulled her back to sleep.
♦ ♦ ♦
Ferrassie awoke to two paramedics loading her onto a stretcher. She ached; her lips felt split and swollen and her head pounded. She was dying. Was she dying? She didn’t want to die. Not yet.
‘Everything’s under control. Simmer down. We’re taking you to the Neo medical centre,’ one of the paramedics said.
Shuqba’s mug came into view. ‘They’ll look after you, Rassie. Your transfer to medical research has been postponed. You get better. All right?’
Ferrassie nodded and slipped back into unconsciousness.