My name is Della Duck.
It felt like she was imparting some deadly curse when she mentioned her name to him.
"Okay." He released her hand to take a seat, and suddenly she wished he was on her right, away from the reminder of her hubris. The stump of her leg jutted out almost mockingly from under the blanket she had been given. As well, there was a continuous twinge that, while painless, annoyed her to no end. She turned her attention back to him as he spoke, "Nice to meet you, Della Duck. I'm only here to ask a few basic questions, then I'll let you rest your head for a while. Sound good?"
Della was hesitant, but at least the brown-haired "human" showed sincerity. Deciding to give him the benefit of a doubt, she said, "Go for it, Ace."
He paused, seemingly perplexed. It couldn't have been the first time he'd heard that nickname, especially with him being in the Air Force. She watched as he mentally shook it off.
"So how did you crash?"
"I got caught in a cosmic storm and lost control of the ship's steering when I was hit by an errant lightning strike."
"We've been going through the remains of the ship, which will be good for you. We're all curious about the technology we found inside, though."
Now she was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean that the computer systems were found in basic American coding, as with the various software. We need to know how you were able to acquire that technology."
Her face went slack.
Cameron pressed on, "Because it may be a dangerous threat to national security. If..."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" she exclaimed, frustration creeping into her voice. "'National Security'? What the hell are you talking about? It's written in American coding, because I am American! I made the blueprints for the damned ship, so you'd best believe I'd know where it was built!" Her head began to pound and her breaths became rapid. "Can I please have some water?"
Looking a little taken aback, Cameron complied. "Sure." He came back with half a glass, his expression now baffled and wary.
"You're...American?" he asked.
"Yes," she said after taking a sip. Her teeth clenched in irritation. "Born and raised in Duckburg, Calisota."
Now his expression became blank. She wondered what exactly was going on in his head.
She was, understandably, a little perturbed when he said, "I've never heard of that place."
Della had long lapsed into a thoughtful silence, considering Cameron's words.
With his talk of national security and codes, along with his immediate denial of Duckburg's existence, she was able to clarify three things.
One: that she was apparently in an alternate America, among which Duckburg clearly did not exist.
Two: the primary species was human. She imagined that ducks did thrive in one form or another in this reality, but perhaps nothing more than the non-evolved animals that stalked the bay and nearby rivers.
Three: that this military base and its personnel had dealt with her level of weird and wildly fantastical to some degree. Cameron didn't seem bothered by the fact that there was a mercurial English speaking duck in the base infirmary.
"Good to see you alert. How are you feeling?"
Della blinked. She looked up as a tall blonde woman came to her bedside. Cameron, as far as she could tell, was nowhere to be found. The blonde was accompanied by a younger woman in a lab coat whose hair was tied in a ponytail, her stethoscope clearly marking her as a doctor.
"Um, I'm okay, I think? Sorry, my thoughts are a little muddled."
"It's all right. You've had quite an ordeal."
"And you are...?"
"Oh, sorry. Colonel Samantha Carter. Sam, for short."
"Dr. Carolyn Lam. May I ask what exactly Colonel Mitchell said to you? You've been unresponsive for the past two hours," the doctor stated, arms crossed.
"Well, we got to talking about the computer systems in the Spear of Selene…"
"The Spear of Selene?" Samantha queried.
"Yeah, that's the name of my ship," Della said.
"Okay, go on."
"Anyway, he started going on about 'American coding' and 'National Security' and I explained to him that I'm American…" She noted that both women raised their eyebrows, but pressed on, "I finished by explaining what city I'm from and he told me it didn't exist."
The two women traded a glance and Samantha asked, "What's the name of the city?"
"Duckburg. It's in Calisota."
Della noticed something new: where Samantha just looked confused at the names, Dr. Lam looked thoughtful. Della decided to ask her about that later.
"So, do you happen to know what caused you to crash?"
"Yeah. I was definitely awake for that," Della sighed, looking again at her missing leg. "I took the ship up to the ionosphere and then a cosmic storm erupted."
Samantha interrupted, "You mean a geomagnetic storm?"
"I...suppose," Della said hesitantly. "I haven't done much research when it comes to space weather patterns. Give me any sort of plane and I can fly it without issue, but this was my first time piloting a spaceship."
"'Your first time'?" Samantha asked, looking more than a little incredulous for Della's liking.
"Yes."
"You had no formal training before taking the ship into orbit? Did you even consider the risks prior to launch? Or choose to leave the ship in the hands of someone more qualified?" Samantha persisted.
That got Della's blood boiling. Before she could even open her beak to repudiate, some instinct stopped her.
Suddenly, regret and resentment were vying for control in her mind. She had had that same argument with Donald just hours prior to launch. She shouted at him without resorting to blows and convinced herself that she'd be fine. It was fine, in retrospect. If she had just kept that moment frozen, she would have been fine. If she had actually listened to Donald and not lost herself to impulse, she would have been fine. If...she'd spared a thought for her eggs that were waiting to hatch…
The tears escaped her eyes before she fully realized she was crying.
Regret had won the battle after all.
Della sat, despondent, in the overly large wheelchair.
The questioning had ended once they caught on to her distress, and transferred her over to one of the numerous visitor rooms.
She didn't bother to move to the bed. What was the point? She had squandered her best and most precious adventure in favor of something unattainable and as a result she was now lost in another reality. There were a lot of familiar things about this world that she found fascinating, but it wasn't home.
A knock suddenly rapped at the door.
"Come in," she said dully.
Cameron's head appeared in the doorway. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"Nope," Della said, popping the 'p' in the word. "Just me projecting the usual sunshine and rainbows." She made no attempt to hide the bitter sarcasm in her tone. "What do you want?"
"Well, some of your personal effects arrived about half an hour ago and I thought I'd bring them to you. Also, Carter feels a bit ashamed at her unintentional reprimand from before. She wanted to apologize to you later."
She wiped at her eyes roughly. "It's fine. She was right about that, though. I should have let someone more qualified to pilot the rocket. I've always been too impulsive where my brother Donald was the sensible one. I just hope he and Uncle Scrooge keep the eggs...safe," she trailed off when she realized Cameron wasn't paying attention. She looked up and found him staring at a picture; evidently the one of Scrooge, Donald and herself smiling in front of the eggs. "Cam? Are you all right?"
After thirty seconds, he finally handed the photograph to her. "I think," he said haltingly, "there's a lot we have to explain to you."
Della's thought at those words could be summed up with one expression:
'Hoo boy.'
End Note: I do so love cliffhangers. They always help to give a story a little extra pizzazz. Please feel free to leave any comments, critiques or suggestions, and enjoy!
