29

Again, I awaken on a metal examination table. The lights are blue, round this time, set inside metal disks like small satellites.

My head throbs, even though the fire’s gone. My throat feels sore where the tube used to be, and sweat drenches my body. I must be running a fever.

My heart flutters a little, but my chest rises and falls slowly. There’s a light, sweet scent to the air that calms me. Like an aster flower not covered in grime.

I don’t know where I am, or why I’m here, or how long it’s been since I arrived.

A door latch unlocks somewhere behind me. The white-coated doctor who enters the room is handsome. Dark hair flows in a soft wave over his head. When he smiles, his unspoiled teeth shine like diamonds.

“Good evening, Clementine,” he says.

Is it evening? I have no sense of time. The least they could do is put a window in my room that lets me watch the moon rise.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Better.” The word sticks on my tongue. I swallow to fix it, but it makes my throat sore.

“That’s wonderful.” He taps something into his tablet. “Can you tell me who you are? Basic facts?”

I nod. He already knows, I’m sure, but he wants to check how much the fever screwed up my memory.

“Clementine, S68477.” Again I slip over the vowels, but I push through. “Sixteen. Surface civilian.”

“Any family?”

“None.”

“And what do you think of Commander Charlie?”

I open my mouth to respond, but something keeps my voice from working. Like I’m not sure what to say, only I thought I was, a second ago.

My brows furrow.

“It’s all right,” the doctor says. “Take your time.”

I try again, but find myself pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth, so hard it might form welts.

“Nothing?”

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Hmm.” He makes another tap on his tablet. The crease in his brow tells me I displeased him, but he’s trying to hide it.

“Is that bad?” I say.

“It’s unfortunate,” he says. “But not to worry. It will come with time.”

I nod and lick my chapped lips. “Anything else?”

“Not from me. I’m going to call the nurse in to give you a little shot. Nothing to fret about.” He smiles and shows me his pearly white teeth.

The nurse enters after he leaves. She doesn’t speak to me, but she hums as she snaps on plastic gloves and moves to a metal tin.

I bite my lip. “You’ll have to prick me again?”

“I’ll insert it into your drip bag this time.”

I lean my head back and tilt it to the side, ignoring the ache. A thin black tube connects a vein in my shoulder to a bag half full with clear fluid. The nurse turns to it, still humming, and the injection syringe comes into view. She prods the needle into a tiny hole on the side of the bag and presses the plunger. Silver-colored liquid mixes with the clear like small, expanding clouds.

I sigh and turn my head to the ceiling again. The aster smell thickens in my nostrils. In small amounts it’s light and fresh; now it’s tangy and putrid, and it makes me nauseous. Why anyone would keep a scent like this in a room, I don’t know. It’s horrid. Don’t they know I’m allergic?

My limbs freeze. My eyes widen.

Memories flood my brain:

Allergy—

Pollen—

Injection syringe—

Logan—

Moonshine—

Charlie—

I came from the Core. Charlie sent me.

“You all right, dear?” the nurse says.

My heart races to the speed of a ticking time bomb.

She takes a step toward me, her face lined with creases of concern. “Honey?”

My wrists and ankles are clamped in irons. I have no use of my hands.

She touches my side lightly and smiles. “Dear, it’s all right.”

I slam my head sideways, lift my upper body, and rip the tube from my shoulder with my teeth. It’s not as clean as I’d like it to be; my teeth catch my skin and set it stinging.

The nurse screams for help.

They’re on me in ten seconds, three guards and my doctor. I’m surprised they think they need that many, since I’m already tied down.

I gnash my teeth at their hands and shriek to give them trouble, but it doesn’t do any good. They shove a tube back down my throat, choking me. Their hands mask my eyes, and the blue lights disappear.

I know where I am now.