39
I’m conscious and alive. A red hue covers my eyes like a scarf. I’m not in Hell. At least I don’t think I am. It’s merely bright light, shining through my eyelids. I try opening them, but the light is blinding. It’s like the first time I’ve ever used my eyes. I’m lying down. I must be lying in the pod. My hands are empty. I reach for the alien phaser.
It’s gone.
The pod lies horizontal. I push myself up. My whole body is stiff and sore. I guess it’s to be expected, I was put through the wringer down there. I’m in a white, clinical room, not much different in aesthetics to the room in the Great Hall. But I’m not lying in the pod, it’s some kind of cryogenic chamber.
I pull myself out of the chamber and take a couple of shaky steps towards what looks like a mirror.
I’m wearing a thin
