Bridger: a Dystopian Serial

Clearance

"Venn?"

Venn kept his eyes closed a moment longer. He leaned into his deep stretch, pushing his weight into his hands on the cool concrete floor. A deep ache settled into his hamstrings.

"Oh look," a female voice said. "He's working out."

Venn straightened, and stood still as the blood rushed from his head. The healer and the taller, dark-skinned soldier woman stood in the open door. "Hello, healer Seth. Hello, soldier woman."

"Ah, Mr. Venn, I love it when you call me that." The female batted her eyelashes at him and laughed. "Let me know when you want out, doc."

Seth stepped in and the woman closed the door. "Her name is Leander," he said.

"Leander," Venn repeated.

"I see you've rested from your expedition yesterday," Seth said. He crossed his arms across his chest.

"I have." Venn got up slowly. "I'm testing my strength." His garments were drenched with sweat even from his simple stretches. He suspected he was at about half-strength yet, perhaps as strong as an ordinary citizen of the city of Eskalon.

"How does it feel?" Seth looked him up in down with his dark, cagey eyes.

"I'm not as strong as I was," Venn said. "But also, Director Greta Erwell spoke to me for much time. I am tired."

"I'm sure she did," Seth said wryly. He smiled. "Let me look at your leg."

Venn removed his pants and lay down on the bed.

Seth went through his usual ritual of draping the body-parts he didn't need to see, then bent down to examine the wound on Venn's thigh.

"It's healing well," he said, finally. "Very nearly shut." He applied a lighter dressing, rearranged his draping, and moved to examine the wound in Venn's belly.

"Does it hurt?" Seth asked as he squinted at it.

"It pulls," Venn said. Lying down he could just see the healer's serious face and creased brow out of the corner of his eye. "Any use of my abdominal muscle pulls at it."

"No pain in your gut?"

"No," Venn said.

Seth dressed this wound also, then straightened. Venn sat up and surveyed the healer's drawn face.

"Something troubles you, Healer Seth." Venn said.

Seth met his eyes frankly. "How did the director question you? About what?"

Everything. Venn smiled ruefully. He had kept very little hidden from the director—just Jezeen, the location of his people, and the portal to Na'o, and much about their culture. She wasn't interested in their culture.

"Everything about the atmosphere and terrain of Kaa," Venn answered. "It was difficult to translate much of it, for my research has been in the numbers and figures of my people." He paused. "She says your world is dying."

"It is dying." Seth folded his arms and frowned at his feet.

"Why?" He had seen nothing of this world but the white ground and the few plants, which seemed dead. He'd smelled the fetid air and felt the world must be at very least sick.

"We've sucked the life out of it." Seth's lip curled. "I suppose your people get around that by sucking other worlds dry?"

Venn fought to keep his face like stone. Not dry, but drained certainly. Telling the healer this probably would not sway the director, who was determined to explore Kaa. Not even hinting strongly at his people's military might had seemed to deter her. Venn had seen their weapons and asked Leader Char's soldiers as many questions about them as he dared. He'd tried to tell Erwell that he thought the Americans would be vastly outmatched if things went badly, but his words didn't seem to reach her ears.