State of Fear

Sarah fought to retain consciousness, but the desire to sleep was becoming overpowering. She struggled to keep her eyes open and, to her astonishment, began to see swift scenes from her life--her childhood, her mother, her kindergarten class, ballet lessons, the high school prom...

 

Her whole life was passing before her. Just like the books said happened, right before you died. And when she looked up, she saw a light in the distance, just like they said happened. A light at the end of a long, dark tunnel...

 

She couldn't fight it any longer. She lay down. She couldn't feel the ground anyway. She was lost in her own, private world of pain and exhaustion. And the light before her was growing brighter and brighter, and now there were two other lights, blinking yellow and green...

 

Yellow and green?

 

She fought the sleepiness. She tried to push herself upright again, but she couldn't. Her muscles were too weak, her arms blocks of frozen ice. She couldn't move.

 

Yellow and green lights, growing larger. And a white light in the center. Very white, like halogen. She was starting to see details through the swirling snow. There was a silver dome, and wheels, and large glowing letters. The letters said--

 

NASA.

 

She coughed. The thing emerged from the snow. It was some kind of small vehicle--about three feet high, no larger than those Sunday lawn-mowers that people drove around on. It had big wheels and a flattened dome, and it was beeping as it came directly toward her.

 

In fact, it was going to drive right over her. She realized it without concern. She could do nothing to prevent it. She lay on the ground, dazed, indifferent. The wheels grew larger and larger. The last thing she remembered was a mechanical voice saying, "Hello. Hello. Please move out of the way. Thank you very much for your cooperation. Hello. Hello. Please move out of the way..."

 

And then nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

WEDDELL STATION

 

 

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6

 

8:22 P. M.

 

Darkness. Pain. Harsh voices.

 

Pain.

 

Rubbing. All over her body, arms and legs. Like fire rubbed on her body.

 

She groaned.

 

A voice spoke, rasping and distant. It sounded like "Coffee grounds."

 

The rubbing continued, brisk and harsh and excruciating. And a sound like sandpaper--scratching, rough, terrible.

 

Something struck her in the face, on the mouth. She licked her lips. It was snow. Freezing snow.

 

"Cousins set?" a voice said.

 

"Nod eely."

 

It was a foreign language, Chinese or something. Sarah heard several voices now. She tried to open her eyes but could not. Her eyes were held shut by something heavy over her face, like a mask, or--

 

She tried to reach up, but couldn't. All her limbs were held down. And the rubbing continued, rubbing, rubbing...

 

She groaned. She tried to speak.

 

"Thin song now whore nod?"

 

"Don thin song."

 

"Kee pub yar wok."

 

Pain.

 

They rubbed her, whoever they were, while she lay immobilized in darkness, and gradually more sensation returned to her limbs and to her face. She was not glad for it. The pain grew worse and worse. She felt as if she were burned everywhere on her body.

 

The voices seemed to float around her, disembodied. There were more of them now. Four, five--she was not sure anymore. All women, it sounded like.

 

And now they were doing something else, she realized. Violating her. Sticking something in her body. Dull and cold. Not painful. Cold.

 

The voices floated, slithered all around her. At her head, at her feet. Touching her roughly.

 

It was a dream. Or death. Maybe she was dead, she thought. She felt oddly detached about it. The pain made her detached. And then she heard a woman's voice in her ear, very close to her ear, and very distinct. The voice said:

 

"Sarah."

 

She moved her mouth.

 

"Sarah, are you awake?"

 

She nodded slightly.

 

"I am going to take the icepack off your face, all right?"

 

She nodded. The weight, the mask was lifted.

 

"Open your eyes. Slowly."

 

She did. She was in a dimly lit room with white walls. A monitor to one side, a tangle of green lines. It was like a hospital room. A woman looked down at her with concern. The woman wore a white nurse's uniform and a down vest. The room was cold. Sarah could see her breath.

 

She said, "Don't try to speak."

 

Sarah didn't.

 

"You're dehydrated. It'll be a few hours yet. We're bringing your temperature up slowly. You're very lucky, Sarah. You're not going to lose anything."

 

Not lose anything.

 

She felt alarmed. Her mouth moved. Her tongue was dry, thick feeling. A sort of hissing sound came from her throat.

 

"Don't speak," the woman said. "It's too soon. Is your pain bad? Yes? I'll give you something for it." She raised a syringe. "Your friend saved your life, you know. He managed to get to his feet, and open the radio-phone on the NASA robot. That's how we knew where to find you."

 

Her lips moved.

 

"He's in the next room. We think he'll be all right, too. Now just rest."

 

She felt something cold in her veins.

 

Her eyes closed.

 

 

 

 

 

WEDDELL STATION

 

 

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 7