Fifteen
Beyond the room in which Cathal woke was a second room, although calling it a room seemed extravagant. It contained no furniture apart from a couple of chairs to one side. There were two doors, and the glass wall.
Cathal brought up a hand and pressed it against the glass. Even through the strips of cloth his pores registered the hard coldness. His brother was on the other side, but Cathal could no longer sense him, as if he was sealed in.
Because he was. The room was…quarantine. Yes, that was the word. The place for those who required special treatment, for those who were too ill for the main medi-bays.
But Cathal was no longer ill. He was stronger than he had ever been. He felt incredible.
He walked to the second door, and this one didn’t open when Cathal turned the handle.
