In the Rouge

11 - Liam

It was the most beautiful sight: a subtle oval of gentle features with pale porcelain skin wreathed in a bright golden halo, delicate nose leading to perfect red lips, blue diamond eyes—

     “Miriam?” Liam heard himself say, though his voice sounded muddy and dull in his ears. He blinked a few times and, as his vision cleared, saw that it was indeed Miriam. He was lying on his back, and she was leaning over him with a bright white light behind her.

    “Welcome back,” she said, smiling.

     Liam felt groggy and confused, as though everything behind his eyes had been replaced with gauze. “Where have I been?”

     She laughed lightly, a beautiful sound: the sound of a rainbow dancing on the horizon, which you can never get close enough to hear. “Well now, that’s the question of the ages isn’t it. You’ve been . . . asleep. How do you feel?”

     Liam thought for a minute, or at least he tried to think. Eventually he said, “Well . . . I don’t really. Everything’s a bit fuzzy.” He tried to look around and had trouble focusing on anything; all he saw was gray. He turned back to Miriam. “Where am I?”

     “Doc says you should get feeling back in a few hours. You’re on the Titan. Do you remember what happened?”

     “What? What do you mean? We were . . . We . . . Um . . .” He closed his eyes, fighting through the haze in his mind, trying to figure out why she was asking him what happened. Remember what? There were some drinks and dancing and girls and screaming—screaming? He opened his eyes. “There was screaming, and there was the shuttle, and the suit . . . and . . . and . . . that’s not the right order.” He closed his eyes again. “We were on the shuttle. We landed. There was no one, and then there was fire, and shooting, and screaming, and . . .” he trailed off. He didn’t remember anything after that. He opened his eyes again. “What happened?”

     “Well,” said Miriam, “no one is particularly sure, but it appears you saved the day.”

     “Did I?” That didn’t sound like him. He had never saved anything, much less a day.

     “It seems so. They found you unconscious next to the Mime. You were holding your helmet in one hand and had apparently used it to . . . subdue the Mime.”

     “Subdue?”

     “Yes, it seems you beat him unconscious with it.”

     “Really?” That definitely didn’t sound like him. “I don’t remember.”

     She let out a short breathy laugh. “I can see that.” Her expression became more serious. “Hopefully you’ll remember something soon. We need to know what happened down there. It was bad; the captain is not happy. You seem to have impressed him a bit though. Anyway, there’s someone waiting to see you if you feel up to it.”

     Liam wondered who would be waiting to see him. “Uh, sure . . . I guess.”

     Miriam’s face disappeared from view and there was a TUNK TUNK TUNK of heels on metal. He heard a door SHHHPT open and someone whispering. Then the sound of heels again, and suddenly Belle was staring down at him. She looked anxious, wearing a brittle smile and wringing her hands.

     Liam smiled up at her, wondering why she had been waiting to see him. “Hey,” he said.

     Her smile became a little less brittle. “How are you?” she said as her eyes darted away shyly.

     He shrugged or at least he tried to shrug. Through the haze in his mind he couldn’t tell if he succeeded. He looked down at his shoulders and tried to shrug again. They twitched. Then he remembered someone—Belle!—had asked him a question. He looked back up at her. “What?” he said.