Prime Paradigm

Chapter 23, Alien Planet

Clint was naked. That much, he knew. There was no sound, no light, not even air currents. The air felt heavy and thick. Clint wondered for the hundredth time if he was dead, dreaming, or simply going insane. The silence was deafening, and words echoed through his head.

"Why are you here? Why are you here?"

He fought to control his mind, and wished his C-J, that Novian brain chip implant was working. Surely that would bring him the information he desperately sought. Where he was, how long he had been here, where was Abimel, why he couldn't see, hear or feel anything. His eyes burned, not from any chemical, but from constantly focusing on what wasn't there. Sometimes he thought he saw glimpses of light, but they always turned out to be illusions created by his hopeful eyes. He battled to maintain his sanity, trying to understand what had happened to him.

Clint replayed again the last events he could remember, starting from John Stark throwing Gren's lifeless body against the temple wall. The gruesome image replayed itself in his mind. After that, nothing seemed to matter except stopping the Jiks.

After experiencing some disorienting effects from passing through the sphere' s shell, Clint had found himself floating in a familiar scene. Through the dim red light, he saw the same row of metal beds they had found in the Jik training cube. But this time, on each bed was strapped an unconscious Jik. The thick air had an unfamiliar, numbing smell.

Reaching the closest bed, he had pushed off toward a panel on what looked like the front wall. It was the only area that looked as if it could control anything. That was when Clint first noticed he was getting drowsy.

Suddenly, Abimel was in front of him, pushing him back, "Get away!"

Clint recoiled, helplessly floating back in the other direction. "Can you stop it?"

Abimel looked back at him with a cold stare and then a smile grew across his face. "Everything's perfect. I wouldn't change a thing."

As Clint tried to understand, he was finally overcome by the powerful fumes and passed out.

Clint didn't know if that had been ten minutes ago or ten weeks ago. Perhaps his body was in suspended animation. However, his best guess was five days, judging from how many times he had relieved his bladder and the continued growth of stubble on his chin. The waste had simply floated away or disappeared. Somehow, even though he hadn't eaten in a long time, he didn't feel hungry. He wondered if he was still under the influence of whatever drug was in the air of the Jik sphere. Maybe the journey they were on took hundreds of years, and his mind now existed in brief moments spread over years of time. Perhaps he was even now strapped to one of the Jik beds.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his neck. Feeling with his hands, nothing was there. He moved his hands up, and was startled to find that his head was completely bald. He was almost sure he had hair only a moment before. Feeling his face, it too was completely hairless. He felt his arms, and there was an unusual smoothness to them. Checking himself, there was not a hair on his body.

Then the voices came back into his mind and he couldn't stop them. He began asking himself questions he already knew, and questions that didn't make sense. He didn't know what was happening, and he couldn't stand it. Insanity was taking over. He wanted to wake up; he wanted it all to stop.