When Ted woke, he was on a bed in an unrecognizable place.
“Careful,” a voice, a human voice, said from somewhere off to his right. “You were shot and the bullet punctured your lung.”
Ted moaned and did his best to turn his head. The man standing next to him, adjusting some equipment, was short and balding, and wore a medical coat. Ted returned to lying on his back. It looked as though he were in a medical facility of some kind, which made sense when he felt pain surge through his chest.
“W—Where am I?” he asked.
“You’re on Neptune Station, Mr. Anderson. Please don’t move too much.”
Ted had never been shot before, and he soon figured out it wasn’t the kind of pain someone could just shake off. He lay on his back, as still as possible. He was disoriented. His head hurt. He felt nauseous. What happened? How close did I come to... dying?
“What happened, Doctor...?”
“You can call me Doctor Tramm,” the man said. “And I’m afraid I don’t have too many details. You’ll have to ask Ms. Teinn or one of your other companions. All I know is that you and the Drevi doctor were wheeled in here late last night.”
Ted shifted his weight in spite of the surging pain, trying to see who else might be in the room with him. “Is Dr. Hio all right?” he asked. Perhaps there had been a way to save him.
But to Ted’s dismay, Doctor Tramm shook his head. “The Drevi was already dead when he arrived. Even if he had been alive, I have no training in how to treat Drevi physiology.”
Ted wanted to say something but nothing would come out. He felt like his chest was about to burst at any minute, but crying was only going to make his condition worse.
“Mr. Anderson, I’m afraid I’m going to need to sedate you.”
Ted had no wish to argue and embraced the darkness along with the freedom from pain it brought.