The light, soft though it seemed to be, hurt his eyes and the ceiling above him refused to focus.
"Bugger." He croaked as he tried to move. His entire body refused to cooperate. Where was he? On Babylon 5, or Earth?
Being effectively blind, Marcus closed his eyes again and tried to determine where he was from the sounds, smells and objects that he could feel around him. The air was clinically clean with the ever-present underlying aroma of disinfectant that was common of all medical facilities. Machinery hummed beside his bed, and from the sensors he could feel attached to his skin, he decided that it must be a medical scanner. There were also tubes stuck into his body that he could feel when he breathed; one in his abdomen and the other near to his groin.
Did they have to feed and catheterise him? How long had he been unconscious for? Weeks?
The thought that he had been poked and prodded like a lab rat disgusted Marcus. He had tried to die with dignity but instead he had been reduced to the status of a baby; incapable of performing even the most basic of bodily functions for himself.
He tried to move again, concentrating all his effort on his left arm. The hand rose by an inch before he had to let it drop. Could he do nothing? Even his scream of frustration came out as little more than a groan.
The machine beside him suddenly started bleeping an alarm. His exertion had probably triggered something. That would mean more people pulling him about whether he wanted them to or not, but at least he might get some questions answered.
There was a sudden intake of breath from beside him.
"Who's there?" He whispered. Had there been someone watching him? He opened his eyes again and tried to discern who it was. The person was hurriedly leaving the room without a word, a blur of brown moving out of the door. He tried to call after them but the person either wasn't listening, or couldn't hear his weak voice.
Had that been Delenn keeping vigil beside him. If it was, why had she left?
As expected, half a dozen medics poured into his room. They began checking his vital signs seemingly unaware that he was awake and Marcus was now too exhausted to even try and speak. The Minbari; that was what they were speaking anyway; passed technical terms above him, then spoke a name that he recognised. Dr Franklin.
"Stephen." He managed the barest of a whisper.
Marcus was never sure if the medics heard him above the bustle; or if they noticed his open eyes; but it was only a minute later that the brown blur of a face entered Marcus' view.
"Are you in there my old friend?" The familiar voice confirmed that Babylon 5's chief medical officer was overseeing his treatment. At least it had not been a stranger pulling him about; that was some comfort.
"Where the bloody hell else would I be?"
Stephen laughed at this hoarse whisper, "You do have a nasty habit of disappearing on me Marcus." The doctor replied, "But I am glad to see you back in the land of the living. How do you feel?"
Marcus was really struggling now, exhaustion forcing him to pause between words.
"Can't move---can't see---can't speak."
"Rest my friend," Stephen unnecessarily placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "You've been out for a while and it will take longer for your body to recover than it did for your soul. I will examine you later, but I believe that there is nothing wrong that some time will not heal. Patience."
Patience was not always one of Marcus' best traits, especially when he had questions to be answered. Stephen examined him everyday during the first week after he woke up, confirming that it was lack of use that had rendered his body uncooperative. He had been put on a diet of high protein goo designed to rapidly build up his strength. This meant that one of the tubes in Marcus' body could be removed, but Stephen insisted that the catheter remained.
"Unless you want us to change your bed sheets twice a day." The doctor made clear what the consequences would be.
He was also subjected to daily physiotherapy to stimulate his muscles. At first, a young Minbari moved his limbs for him, but he made rapid progress to lifting light weights, although he wasn't allowed out of bed until Stephen was sure he could support his own weight.
At least with regaining the use of his arms, Marcus could begin doing things for himself, such as reading his books that he had found by his bed, and eating. He had quickly grown bored of Stephen's mush and had exercised his vocal chords by loudly demanding some real food. They had given in surprisingly easily and presented him with a plate of sausage and mash.
Other demands were frustratingly not listened to. He had asked for access to the com system but was politely told that it was not possible. When he had requested to see Delenn, he was reverently informed that the Entil'zha was not available and that Ni'Fa had ordered no visitors to be allowed.
When had Delenn gained the title Ni'Fa? There was a lot that did not make sense to Marcus. He did not recognise any of the Minbari medics that treated him and Stephen had not been to see him since his eyesight had improved enough to read; and no one would answer his questions. Most barely talked to him, just smiling and bowing whilst he ranted in all three dialects. The only Minbari he could hold a conversation with was Rennith, the physiotherapist, and then it was only small talk or games of I-spy to waive off boredom.
They had all been ordered not to tell him something, that was obvious. But what?
The fact that he was on Minbar and not Babylon 5 was worrying. Had they lost the war with Earth and been forced to abandon the station? Were they now even more renegade, taking refuge under the protection of the Minbari? Had the Captain been recaptured, or more likely, killed? And what of Susan? Had she survived, or had he failed? He was sure he had heard her voice, but had it really been her or just his subconscious that had not been ready to die?
The question of Susan was not the only one he needed an answer to. What of Marie? She would still be on Minbar and worried by his message to her as well as any stories that had probably been circulated.
Marcus was angst-ridden thinking of the pain and grief that she would be suffering; and there would be nobody that she could talk to because nobody knew who she really was. His little girl was hurting and it was all his fault! That thought together with the possibility that he had failed Susan, brought his own guilt to the surface. His had been a selfish act without thought to the repercussions it could bring to the other unwitting participants in his life. Could his absence from the battle have been the deciding factor? If he had stayed, would it have made a difference? How many more lives had he destroyed?
He had to turn his face to his pillow to muffle his sobs of remorse. He remained like that long into the night.
The next morning, he managed to lift a piece of paper and a pen from one of the medics and in the short time before Rennith appeared, scribbled a note.
Marie,
You've probably heard some strange stories. Please don't worry. I'm alive and will come see you as soon as I am able.
He signed it with a little stick figure, one arm pointing straight up. It was their own private symbol. The figure was actually signalling the semaphore letter D, which from Marie meant 'daughter' and from Marcus meant 'Dad'.
His physiotherapy session went well, with the young Minbari announcing that Marcus would be allowed to stand up the next day. Marcus then asked for a favour.
"Rennith," he began, "I know you can't tell me anything about what's happening outside this room…"
"I have my orders."
"I know that. Is it against your orders for me to send a message to someone?" Marcus began to speak faster, hoping to persuade the Minbari before he said no. "It's not to anyone important and I don't want a reply. It's just that there's this girl, about thirteen, staying with the family Mir, who I made friends with and I just want to let her know that I'm all right. You can read it if you like" He finished in a rush, holding the note out to Rennith, who looked at it, considering.
"I won't make you play I-spy any more." Marcus coaxed the Minbari, and was rewarded by a slight smile and a nod of the head.
Marcus sighed in relief. "Thank you."
In one matter, his mind was now eased. Marie might now be worrying about him, but he would rather have that than she think she had lost her entire family; again. With that slight reassurance, Marcus turned his thoughts to the following day. Getting out of bed would mean finally being disconnected from the machines, and having that final damned tube removed. He would at last regain his independence and exert some control over his life.
The Minbari believed that there was a time for everything, and up to now Marcus had waited, playing the dutiful patient, allowing his body to recover the strength that he knew it had lost.
The time for waiting was nearly over.
Tomorrow was the time to act.
The day started as normal as usual and Marcus was careful to keep up his customary banter so not to arouse suspicion. He ate breakfast, was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and then to pass time pretended to read a book. It was the only way he could think of to stop his hands shaking with anticipation.
Eventually, Rennith arrived, accompanied by one of the medics. Two minutes later he was released from the monitors and gingerly feeling for the floor with one bare foot.
"It's cold!" he yelled, retracting the leg. This elicited a laugh from the two Minbari. "You could have told me!"
Marcus guardedly eyed the sniggering pair. "Swines." He muttered under his breath as he once again reached for the floor.
The hilarity dissipated when Rennith and the medic took an arm each around their shoulders and slowly helped Marcus to stand.
"Do not be surprised if you experience faintness." Rennith announced. "Your body will need to adjust before it is able to pump enough blood to your brain."
Marcus did feel a little lightheaded and was glad of the support. He took a few deep breaths and then slowly let his legs take his weight. There was a moment when his muscles threatened to spasm and give way but Marcus waited for it to subside. Then he lifted one foot and took a step.
A moments pause, and he took another one.
It was a long ten minutes, circumnavigating the room, Marcus calculating when to take each step and the Minbari shuffling with him. They returned to the bed and Marcus let himself to be lowered back onto it. The exertion of walking just those few steps had surprised him because he felt like he'd just gone five rounds with a Zarg.
Rennith appeared pleased though as he predicted it would only be a couple of weeks before Marcus would be back pike fighting.
"That soon." He quipped, sinking back to the pillows and trying to ignore his heart thumping against his ribcage and the lights that were dancing before his eyes. This was going to be harder than he thought.
Alone once more, Marcus thought over his plan and considered delaying it for a few days.
He would be stronger which would mean the greater chance of him succeeding, but it was more likely that they would expect him to try something and so watch him more. Now had to be the time whilst he had the element of surprise.
Throwing back the covers, Marcus listened for movement in the corridor outside his room before swinging his legs off the mattress and warily standing up. He leant heavily on the bed as he repeated the exercise from earlier and slowly took one step after another. He reached the foot, and with one hand on the bed frame, took a deep breath, then launched himself towards the cupboard six feet away.
The first step held. The second, his knee buckled and Marcus landed heavily on the floor.
"Bugger!" He gritted his teeth against the pain and waited to see if anyone had been alerted by the noise. No one came, so he shifted himself to a sitting position and pulled open the cupboard door.
"Bingo."
There were his clothes. He had hoped they hadn't taken them away. It would have been very difficult to get around the Ranger compound in bare feet and out of uniform. He gathered everything into a bundle, and held it against his chest with one hand, whilst pushing himself across the floor on his rear. It wasn't very dignified, but he didn't dare try walking again. One lot of sore knees was enough. A glance at the clock told him that it was almost time for his next meal to arrive. He threw the bundle of clothes onto the bed before pulling himself up. At least his arms had gained more exercise during his bed rest and so were strong enough to support his weight.
It was over an hour later before Marcus was able to leave the bed again. He had eaten his food with his knees uncomfortably propped up by his uniform and boots, then as swiftly as he was able to, changed. His Ranger pin, which he had found by his bed, he pinned to his cape, but his pike had disappeared.
"Oh well," He thought. "I shouldn't need to fight anyone." Still, it concerned him. He hoped it hadn't been lost in the confusion.
His third time standing felt more secure than the others. His legs were firmer although the surroundings had an unnerving habit of swaying if he didn't hold on to something. He moved out of his room and along the corridor with one hand against the wall to keep him walking straight.
As was usual with his plans, he had not thought in too much detail. All he wanted was to find out what had happened; to Susan; to Earth; to the station. He had to know if he had failed. That was the only possible reason they refused to tell him anything. If he could find an empty room with a computer he would only need half an hour. That was probably all he would get before it was discovered that he was gone.
He reached an external door and paused before going outside. So far he had been lucky and had encountered no one. Now he heard footsteps.
Marcus stepped back out of sight and waited. Standing still was almost worse than walking as he had to grip onto the door handle tightly to convince his brain that he was not actually spinning around as it tried to tell him.
The group passed, chatting quite happily about their latest training session. Marcus waited until their voices had faded before venturing outside.
Then he stopped.
He looked at the view in bewilderment. The rocky skyline of Tuzanor was unchanged, but the gardens of the Ranger compound, which stretched out below the walkway he was on, were in full bloom. That would make it mid summer. But it had only been spring on Minbar when he had…
Four months!
Had he been lying in that bed for four months? It was no wonder that his muscles had wasted to the degree that they had. Anything could have happened in that time. It was even more imperative that he found a computer now.
He struggled on, finding it harder to walk as he pushed his body further than he should really be doing. It was not long before he stumbled and half collapsed against the wall. It was there, eyes closed, breathing deeply and failing to utilise any of his mediation exercises, that he heard the children.
Two; arguing as was the wont with siblings. Marcus had never known children to be allowed within the Ranger compound. Things must have changed dramatically if that was the case. Unable to curb his curiosity, Marcus falteringly made his way to the corner where the sound was emanating.
He stumbled into a small balcony garden; a few plants and a tree with a scrap of lawn. The children, a boy and a girl, were fighting on the grass. From the open french windows came the sound of a piano, possibly the parents.
"Give it back Will." Demanded the girl of her brother, "Or I'll tell Mum."
The boy was holding a doll just out of the girl's reach.
"Jump for it Sophie." He teased. The girl jumped, but failed. She was about the burst into tears.
"Give your sister back her doll." Marcus said.
The two children spun towards him in surprise, then as one began to back away, wide eyed with fear.
"Don't be afraid," Marcus tried to reassure the children, "I didn't mean to startle you." It did not make sense. Minbari welcomed strangers, they did not warn their children against them. And here in the middle of the Anla'shok training facility, to have anyone shy away from a Ranger was completely illogical.
"I just want to talk." He tried again. The world around him was starting to move further away and detach itself from him. His body had just about had enough.
"We were told not to talk to you." The boy answered flatly.
Before Marcus could say another word, his vision darkened and his head spun out of control. He staggered backwards into a bench and sat down heavily. Through the fog in his head he thought he heard the boy shout and the girl scream.
Then another voice pierced the buzzing that threatened to overwhelm him. It was the voice of Dickens; the soprano of G the woman of his nowhere place. She spoke one word.
"Dad!"
To be continued...
