Page 22 of When Eden Falls

Cora gaped at me. “The Nux texts mention every human left Earth during the mass exodus.”

“Like I said, it looked human.”

“Go southeast,” I heard Rooke instructing Kobe. I moved closer to the single monitoring screen on the edge of the comms desk. It displayed a vast grassed area, falling away into a mass of endless trees. But there was no sign of a horse and a rider.

Kobe flew the drone over the forest. It was too dense to see anything beneath the top canopy. He veered back towards the water’s edge, scanning the coastline. Rooke peered closer. “Go back,” he commanded.

Kobe turned the drone southwards. I held my breath as it skimmed the coastline, relaying the real time imagery. Then it came into view. A mountainous construction of rock jutting out of the cliff face into the sea. There was a scatter of movement from the beached area either side. Kobe flew lower, and figures became visible enough to identify they were humanoid. Some were hauling boats in from the sea, others scurrying towards the pronounced giant rock.

“Bingo.” Rooke grinned at the discovery. “We have found intelligent life on Earth.”

The screen unexpectedly flashed, and the drone began to plummet to the ground. Kobe grimaced as he tried to regain control of the remote machine, ignoring Rooke’s pointless instructions.

The screen flickered, then went blank, and we all stared in shock.

“I think they may’ve seen us spying,” Kobe said, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard.

Filling the silence, hurried footsteps grew louder behind us. We all turned as Zamya emerged from the corridor. She was frowning, but not with the same agitated intensity as earlier. “Rooke.” Her tone was soft but uncomfortably perturbed. “It’s Oz. He’s had a relapse.”

C h a p t e rE i g h t

“I thought he was improving,” Rooke said, entering the medical room.

“He was,” Zamya replied. “I came to check on him after I left you in the airlock and found him like this.”

Oz lay on the solitary bed in the middle of the small room. Covered in a grey blanket, he was shaking fiercely. His face was pale, glistening with sweat, whilst his lips appeared dry and colourless.

I moved to his bedside, grasping his hand. His closed eyelids flickered, and I caught a flash of blue, as if he was trying to open them to acknowledge my presence.

Zamya appeared next to me, peeling back the blanket covering Oz’s injured shoulder. The bandage across his wound had been removed and the row of red and bruised incisions oozed with yellowing pus.

“It’s infected.” Zamya looked at Rooke standing behind me. “This bacteria isn’t anything I’ve seen before. I doubt any Alluran medication will work.”

“Can you at least try?” Rooke insisted.

“I have been, but…I’m worried it won’t be enough.”

Staring at our colleague, our friend, we all watched as his chest rose and fell rapidly. His breaths were short and ragged. There was nothing healthy about his condition.

There was a desperation in Zamya’s tone when she said, “We need to get him back to The Orka.”

“Do you have alternative treatment for him on The Orka?” Rooke asked.

Zamya fell silent. I glanced up at her. Her eyes were wide, fearful. Looking between us, she shook her head. “No.”

Rooke cursed. We couldn’t lose Oz, not like this. “How long does he have?”

“If he’s lucky, a couple of days. But…seeing how quickly he’s deteriorated, possibly only a few hours.” I heard the waver in her voice.

Rooke cursed again. He pensively stared at Oz, then departed the room in haste.

I continued to stroke Oz’s hand, attempting to ignore the grotesque injury on his shoulder. Normally, he was a visually intimidating man, but here…here he looked vulnerable. I felt the frown form between my eyebrows.We can’t lose Oz, he’s the strong one.

I watched Zamya clean up the excess pus. There was so much of it. The unsightly mess turned my stomach, and I was fighting the urge to retch. I felt Oz’s hand squeeze mine with a little more force than expected. Whether the procedure was causing him pain, or he was merely checking I was still there, I didn’t know. But I squeezed his hand in reply, hoping my company was somehow comforting.

Zamya remained silent as she worked, her expression distant and grave. After a few minutes, she placed the apparatus on the medical table beside her. Removing her surgical goggles and mask, she took a deep breath and stared at the wall. “There’s just too much of it,” she said. I noticed her hands trembling as she pulled off her medical gloves.

Before I had the chance to cross the small area to comfort her, Rooke returned.