Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Epilogue
Richard was the alien or so it seemed. So many new faces here and only a few were human, and then again he wondered if that visual assessment was accurate. He laid in what he gathered was a hospital bed, where he did not know, in a place that was different from anything he had encountered.
He was weak. Every muscle, at least what he had left, was barely capable of doing its most basic purpose. How long had he been out he wondered. How many years have passed? Was he a prisoner of some alien culture? Where is the rest of the crew? Are they alive? What about Nyanda?
He looked at his finger and his wedding ring was gone, probably for medical reasons. Maybe as someone’s prize. Nonetheless his restlessness spurred on by his lingering questions made the weakness frustrating.
Then she appeared, the green woman in the lab coat. She was familiar in that she was a human-shaped woman, but the rest of her was as strange and exotic as possible. Her amber eyes and green skin with an oozing feminine sensuality that seemed to require more effort not to have, was enough to leave this 21st century human slack jawed.
She was the trope straight out of every pulp science fiction story from his youth. The one that was the evil queen, the seductive temptress, the one that lured the unwary male protagonist away from their goals or their true love and to their demise. The one that inspired many a bed time fantasy in many young boys coming of age.
Here, though, she seemed to be in charge. She seemed to be a physician of some type… making rounds and checking patients, quick with a reassuring smile, or a casual laugh with a colleague.
Under what he assumed was a lab coat she wore what looked to be some kind of uniform, made up of a white tunic with blue and gray, a white skirt, and knee high boots. Again, a strange touch of militaristic fashion mixed with a very science fiction trope he thought to himself.
Where’s Nyanda. That thought came back in with a wave of anguish as he lost track of the science fiction trope.
The door slid open with a swish, and it was her, the green space siren herself.
“Knock, knock,” Jeiliscia said in a pleasant, sing-song manner and in the English language he was used to with a slight hint of an accent. At least verbal communication wasn’t going to be an issue. She entered holding what looked like a tablet type device, and a glance at a control panel attached to the bed he was laying in. She smiled and nodded then focused her gaze upon the ancient astronaut.
“I am Lieutenant Commander Jeiliscia Valusia. I am a Medical Doctor and currently your physician,” she said with a head tilt and a smile. Richard looked carefully and blinked twice. He was really having trouble believing any of this, despite the fact that the last thing remembered before waking up here was going to sleep while on a journey to Proxima Centauri. Did they make it, he wondered? They know our customs. Were they using Earthling style naval ranks for familiarity? They at least seemed friendly.
“Osbourne, Richard Paul Osbourne, Lieutenant Colonel… I’m…uh… from a planet called Earth and I come in peace.”
She looked at him and her smile grew bigger. She then looked at her PADD then looked up.
“Well, good because that confirms that you know your name and what planet you are from. Also good to know you come in peace. Let’s see…” She looks at her PADD again, “You were born in Abilene, Texas, in North America… United States of America, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“And you were born on December 2nd, 2001 in Earth calendar dates, correct?”
“Yes," he replied. His curiosity was peaked at this point. "Where did you that information?”
“Ship’s logs and archives that we had on hand,” she said. “Now, you are recovering quite nicely.”
“I’m hungry. Anyway, could I eat something that a human can eat?” he asked.
She wanted to laugh but she realized he was still quite confused about where and when he was. “It’s food from mess decks, and while some of the crew may grumble about its palatability, I can assure you, that there is food that is safe for humans available. You will be on a limited diet for the time being though as your body is still trying to wake up. Your liver and kidneys were damaged, and one of your kidneys had to be completely regrown, so let’s not go for a sirloin and baked potato quite yet.”
He furrowed his brow then asked, “Where am I? What year is this?”
“Lieutenant Colonel,” she said, growing serious as she put her PADD to the side and sat on the edge of his bed, “you are in Med Bay 1 on board a space ship called the USS Hornet. It is a Starfleet vessel, under the United Federation of Planets which is headquartered at Earth, and the Earth date is May the fifth, twenty four, twenty five.”
This would now be the part she dreaded. This was the conversation she told the caregivers attending to him to avoid. The hard news.
It was indeed a shock. His eyes averted as he pondered what he had just heard. Three hundred and ninety years had just flown past. The next words, the next questions, any words were now lost in his mind.
Then the most important question that he feared hearing the answer was next. What about Nyanda?
“What…,” he began with hesitation. “What about the rest of the crew of the Concorde? Where are they? W-where is Nyanda Po? Please… Doctor. I have to know.”
Jeiliscia feared this part since the rescue and especially after reviewing information collected from the ship before it detonated. She had seen the pictures that the crew took as they were leaving Earth’s orbit. They were all friends. They were all smiles. They were optimistic about their journey.
A few photos stood out, particularly since Jeiliscia was in the process of planning her marriage to her fiance’. They were of a wedding, held in micro gravity on board the Concorde and officiated by the commander, Captain McCullum. The bride was a beautiful, bright, dark complected woman who was labeled to be Dr Nyanda Po, PhD, and the groom was this very patient before her and sole survivor.
She closed her eyes and composed her words carefully.
“I am sorry, Richard,” she said softly, looking at him sympathetically and placing her green hand on his. “You… were the only survivor. I am so very sorry.”
He began to shake his head. “No,” he said as though he denied this was true, or at least wanted to deny it. He started to tremble and then began to break down and cry.
Jeiliscia placed her left hand on his right hand with her other hand underneath. A tear began to roll down her face in sympathy.
“Richard, I do not know what I could ever say to make it better. There are no words, in Federation Common, or in the language of my own people that I think ever will. I am just so very sorry about this. Believe me, if there would have been any chance to save the rest of the crew, including your wife, I would have done so even if it meant my death.”
“H-how did they…”
“In their sleep, painlessly… dreaming…” she said, managing a smile. “They were already dead when we boarded your ship.”
He looked at her hands enclosed around his then up at her.
“The last thing she said to me was, ‘dream a little dream of me’… it was a song, even before my time.”
“I have heard it,” she said.
“I kissed her, and I told her I loved her, then I closed her stasis pod. She had the sweetest smile while she went to sleep. I went to my pod, got in, and… as I dozing off, I was dreaming of a world where we would be happy… together.”
“She died happy and wanted,” Jeiliscia said. “In my culture, that is considered a blessing of the Mother Goddess. I do not know if that thought helps your pain, but…”
“..but at least it’s something,” he said, finishing her sentence. “Thank you.” He began to wipe his face prompting Jeiliscia to stand up and grab a wiping clothing for Richard.
“I reckon I kept you long enough, Doc,” he said sheepishly. “I’m sure you got more important stuff you need to do.”
“Caring for my patients is what I need to do, Richard,” she said, daintily dabbing her own tears with a cloth. “You are my patient, therefore I am doing the more important stuff I need to do.’”
He managed a smile. The world had changed for him, in what seemed an instant. At least one thing remained the same. There are still those souls with empathy. Those that care.