Artificial Heart

Prisha went over to the door and tried to open it. She checked the windows but there was no going there. And what the hell would she do anyway even if she managed to get out? Hitchhike?

She was standing by the window, watching as a pair of soldiers walked past, when she slapped a hand to her pelvis with a grimace. Not again. Biting her lip, Prisha leaned over, bracing her head against the window. After several long moments, the pain started to lessen.

But she didn’t feel better.

She staggered at a wave of dizziness. She turned cold. Sweat beaded the back of her neck. She slumped down onto the couch, throwing her feet up on the arm. The room was spinning.

Closing her eyes, Prisha took several long, deep breaths. ‘What have you done to me, Alf?’

Then the nausea came. She sat up, then leapt to her feet, crashing through the bathroom door. She threw open the toilet seat. Her knees hit the floor and she vomited. Closing her eyes, she panted. She tried to vomit a second time but nothing came up.

Curling her legs up beneath her, she sat up against the wall. Sweat was beading under her hairline now. Her shirt felt damp. Shakily, she got up, went over to the kitchenette and got herself a drink of water. Her hand was trembling.

Prisha shook her head, as though she could shake away the pain pressing against her temples. Finishing her drink, she staggered over to the couch. The moment her head hit the cushion, she was asleep.

’Prisha. Prisha.’

Prisha turned her head with a groan.

‘Wake up. It’s time to go.’ Somebody rubbed her shoulder.

Prisha’s eyes slid open. A fuzzy face was looking down at her. Another fuzzy figure stood behind it. Prisha blinked several times and realised it was Kylie and Paul. The door was open behind them.

Kylie helped her to sit her up. Prisha wiped the sweat from her brow.

‘Are you all right?’ Kylie asked, forehead furrowed. ‘You look sick.’

‘Tired. Sore. I vomited.’ Prisha rubbed at the back of her neck. ‘I think I got some on the floor. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all right.’ Kylie frowned. ‘Is this new?’ She looked behind her at Paul. Something passed between them.

’They can figure it out,’ Paul said ominously.

’They,’ Prisha said. There was that word again. ’Who’s They?’

‘Here let us help you up.’ Kylie grabbed her arm. Paul came over to assist.

’I’m okay. Really. I’m okay.’ But she grabbed at Kylie’s shoulder for support. ’Just having one of my episodes. Phew.’

Her knees buckled and Paul caught her. The room turned dark. Prisha blinked and rolled her eyes. She was moving but she wasn’t walking. Paul was carrying her. His fuzzy face was above. There was a lot of noise. Talking. Then shouting. There came a very loud beating. It seemed to thud right through her body. Right through her bones. It made her ears ache.

‘What’s wrong with her?!’ shouted a voice over the noise.

‘I don’t know!’ Paul responded.

‘Prisha? Can you stand?’ Kylie spoke in her ear.

‘I think so,’ she gasped.

There was a black shape ahead—clearly the helicopter. More fuzzy figures. She was on her feet. Someone grabbed her and dragged her bodily over to the helicopter. Her knees kept buckling. She was scooped up and then she was inside. The beating of the blades changed, sounding muffled. A door slammed shut.

Prisha blinked, staring up at the ceiling. Her vision was clearing, though she still felt incredibly weak, like her body was doing its best to push itself into the floor.

A sharp light flashed in her eyes. ‘Prisha Rogers.’

‘What?’ Prisha croaked.

‘Can you tell me what’s wrong? Why are you sick?’ A man was speaking loudly against the thud of the chopper blades. Light flashed in her eyes a second time.

Prisha closed her eyes and turned her head. ‘Stop doing that.’

‘Then tell us what’s wrong.’

‘Dunno. Leave me alone.’ She rolled away onto her side.

Prisha took several deep breaths, almost in time with the thudding blades. Finally, her vision cleared properly, though her ears were ringing strangely. Slowly, she sat up, leaning her back against the wall. She blinked. This was not an ordinary helicopter. It was some kind of army helicopter with a lot of space and a long stretch of floor. Several windows. Soft bench-like seats on either side with seatbelts.

It was almost empty except for two men, one a soldier, the other obviously the “medic”. He had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He couldn’t be older than thirty. She glanced behind her and glimpsed the two pilots. A lot of resources for just one person.

Too much.

‘Are you okay?’ The medic asked over the noise. He was standing over her, grabbing onto a grip hanging from the ceiling to steady himself. The soldier was sitting on the bench close to her left. He was watching her carefully. ‘Do you want some water?’

Prisha nodded and the soldier handed over a bottle of water from beneath his seat. Prisha tried to drink but spilled most of it down her front. The helicopter was moving too dramatically.

‘We’ll talk after we reach our destination,’ the medic said. ‘It’s too noisy.’ He held out a hand. ‘Come and strap yourself in. It’s safer. Less rocky.’

She took it and he helped her over to a seat opposite the soldier. He strapped her in and sat a space over, doing the same thing to himself. Prisha looked over at the soldier. He was young with sandy colour hair. Their eyes met. She quickly looked away.

They said nothing. Nobody could. Not with all the noise. Prisha leaned back against the wall with a sigh. She shut her eyes.

Sometime later, she woke. She’d been sleeping against the seatbelt, her head hanging forward. She yanked it back. Her neck was aching.

‘We’re almost there,’ the medic told her.

‘Already?’ Prisha’s heart raced.

Minutes later they were descending. Prisha gripped onto the sides of her seat. She couldn’t see anything. She had no idea where she was. She couldn’t be far from home, though. The trip hadn’t been that long.

Her stomach swooped as they steadily lowered.

‘Are you okay?’ the medic called over.

Prisha nodded.

They hit the surface with a bump. The beating of the chopper blades slowed, then stopped. It felt like she’d been hearing them her whole life. It was strangely quiet. Her ears were ringing. She could still feel the blades vibrating through her body.

The medic unbuckled himself. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’

Prisha followed him. She was still a little shaky and weak as he took her by the waist and helped her to the ground.

It was late afternoon. It seemed the blue sky had stretched from the Sunshine Coast to wherever here was seamlessly. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But she was feeling cool again. Or perhaps that was just nerves. She shivered.

Of course they hadn’t landed at a regular airport. This base was much bigger than the last one. It was actually a proper base with permanent buildings, rows of tanks, other helicopters. Armed men ran by in a group. It was busy.

‘Where are we?’ she said.

‘Enoggera,’ he said. ‘Brisbane,’ he added at her confused look.

A truck roared past. Again, it felt like everyone was watching her. The back of her neck wouldn’t stop prickling. She kept close to the man’s side. She glanced behind her and realised the sandy-haired soldier was following. She was escorted to a small building beside an open field where several men were exercising.

Prisha shivered again as she followed the medic inside. He went into another room and returned holding a khaki jacket.

‘Thank you,’ Prisha said, pulling it on.

The place looked sterile. White. There was a metal table, a couple of benches. A large wall mirror looked in onto the room. It reminded her so much of Alf’s “bench” room her stomach swooped.

Prisha sat down on the cold bench seat, gripping her knees as she tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t sure if she was exhausted or panicked. Probably both.

‘Don’t be afraid. We’ll treat you well. My name’s Tom and I’m in contact with our American counterparts who want to talk with you.’

‘Counterparts? Who?’

Tom waved his hand.

Prisha frowned. ‘Please don’t treat me like I’m nothing.’

‘Homeland Security. The CIA.’

Prisha stared at him, then looked down into her lap.

‘You’re not in trouble,’ he said.

‘So I’ve been told.’

‘We just want to protect ourselves.’

‘From what?’

‘From everything.’ He gestured at the room. ‘There’s a bathroom through there and behind me is an area where you can make your coffee. There is water in the fridge.’ He nodded. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Someone will come and see you shortly.’

‘Fine.’

He left.

Make herself comfortable? How? She shifted her buttocks on the hard seat. She looked towards the mirror and frowned.

‘Is anybody there?’ she dared.

Her reflection was looking a little grey. Her hair was lank. She wouldn’t say she was looking old, certainly tired. Drained. She turned and saw all the dirt and dried muck down her back. Then she leaned back against the wall, hands folded over her chest as she waited.

It wasn’t long before the entry door opened. She stood upon the entrance of a man and woman. They both wore fatigues. The man was short but powerful-looking. The woman had a long plait of black hair. She was smiling kindly.

‘Prisha Rogers? Hi, my name’s Katie,’ she said. ‘I’m a doctor. I’ve come to give you a full check-up.’

‘Why?’

‘To make sure you’re healthy.’

‘I can tell you right now that I’m healthy. I don’t need you to check on me.’

She waved her hand. ‘No need to worry. It’s just procedure. Everyone gets one.’

‘I’m not a soldier.’

The woman didn’t respond.

‘You can see my hospital records …’

‘You were in hospital?’

Prisha pinched her mouth shut. ‘Uh. I was … I was dizzy.’

‘You might as well be truthful. It’s easy to pull those records.’

‘I collapsed.’

‘Do you still get this dizziness? Tom said you were unwell on the flight over.’

Prisha didn’t respond.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ She nodded towards the other room. ‘Go in there and get changed into one of the gowns. I’ll give you five minutes and I’ll be right in.’

‘What about him?’ Prisha nodded at the soldier.

‘He’ll be there too.’

‘Why?’

The doctor shrugged. ‘Just procedure.’

‘I would like to leave.’

‘I’m sorry. That’s not up to me. I’m only here to do my job.’

‘Who’s it up to then?’

‘The powers that be.’ The soldier stepped forward. ‘Get into the room or I’ll drag you in.’