Defending Hippotigris Smith, T.L. (classic books to read txt) 📖

about a dog named Zebra. The image of stripes flashed through my head and alarms sounded in my ears, followed by a whirling sensation that washed through my whole body.

It didn’t take many rounds of ‘dog-Zebra-alarms and whoosh’ to realize cause and effect, ending with drugs. The dog’s name was Zebra. What an incredibly stupid name for a dog. Zebra must have been real, but why couldn’t I remember? But I was remembering. A grey and black striped dog, weird looking, all skinny and long-legged.

Whoosh.

Why was Remy still on the other side of the window? I wanted him with me. I was home again. I needed him. I didn’t need him on TDY. Then I was a biologist… no… yes, an astrobiologist? No? Things scrambled in my head. Was I a biologist? Really? It sounded too simple. Of course it did. I really worked as a… a… Whoosh.

   Hmmm, there was a word for it, but I couldn’t remember what it was. Just like I couldn’t remember Zebra.

Suddenly I remembered and tears welled up in my eyes. Dad sent him to my uncle’s farm because he kept getting out of the yard. He ate things dogs shouldn’t eat. He got aggressive when people got too close to me. Dad was afraid he’d get killed and break my heart, but that happened anyway. A horse kicked him in the head and he was dead. “Zebra!”

Alarms blared and I couldn’t see Remy and Lizzy anymore, not through clenched eyes. I tried to cover my ears, but nothing stopped the noise, or the pain. “Mrs. Batista…”  Hands grabbed at my shoulders, holding me down. “Hit her with another pulse, 10 eps.”

“Doctor, she’s not anesthetized.”

“10 eps.” The hands gripped me harder. “Now, or I’ll get someone else.”

Almost as soon as she said it, I felt something tighten around my head, my scalp tingled, then burned, and something surged down into my brain. It flowed into my whole body, as if I’d picked up an electrical wire, paralyzing me.

I wanted to scream, but nothing worked. For an eternity it pulsed through me, but as it faded away, so did the pain.

“Mrs. Batista. Can you hear me?” I opened my eyes and rolled them towards the voice. A woman stood over me, a lot younger than me.

“Yes…”  My voice came out a whisper.

She smiled. “Good. I’m glad you’re reactive this time. I’m Dr. Parsons.”

I shifted my eyes to the window. Remy leaned against the glass, but looked relieved. “What’s wrong with me?”

“We’re still trying to figure that out. You were brought in last night in seizures. Your husband said you experienced a terrible migraine and some memory loss.” The doctor touched my shoulder, drawing my attention back to her. “Do you remember any of this?”

“The headaches. I never had them like that before. Is there something wrong? A stroke or aneurysm?” I didn’t want to leap that far, but fear matched the pain.

“Not according to scans.” Dr. Parsons gave me what she must have thought was a reassuring smile, but I could see the upturned corners of her lips were forced. “I need to examine you. Then I’ll let your family in for a few minutes.”

“Okay.” As weak as I felt, I tried to focus on her, flexing my fingers and toes on command. I described my headaches. “I guess they’ve been getting more severe. My doctor prescribed a pain killer that seemed effective, until last night. As far as setting it off…”  I hesitated again, bracing myself. “It was a story about… my dog… Zebra.”

I felt a twinge, but also a tingle around my head. I wanted to reach up to feel what wrapped around my scalp.

Dr. Parsons moved over to the computer, watching the waves on her screen alter. “Hmmm, so far so good. The scans say you were awake before, though unresponsive. What were you experiencing? Were you thinking about this dog when your headache hit?”

“Yeah, I was. I couldn’t remember him, then the headaches started, but I remember him now and it doesn’t hurt.”

The doctor turned and looked at me, frowning. “I’m afraid that’s not accurate. We have you hooked up to a Cerebral Impulse Regulator. This last attack let us tune the CIR, so now it delivers electrical impulses as soon as it recognizes a seizure.” She leaned on the railing of my bed. “We have to figure out why they’re happening. Can you tell me, when you were on TDY, were you involved in an accident or anything traumatic?”

“No, it was just the usual TDY. I do DNA tests at our colonies…”  My head tingled harder. The doctor spun back to her computer screen. “I’m only a biolog… owwww.” The pain spiked higher, as did the tingling. “Make it stop!”

“The computer indicates you’re blocking your responses.” The doctor looked at me harder. “What happened? I can’t treat you if I don’t know.”

“I’m not lying. Nothing happened. I just look for DNA... DAMN!” This time I tried to reach for my head, but my arms jerked up short by restraints. Not just my arms, my legs, my chest. “What the hell…” More spikes, alarms and the thing on my head burned. “Let me out of these!” I twisted my arms harder and one broke loose.

Before I could free my other hand, the doctor was on me, trying to force my arm back into the restraint. I tossed her off me, but someone else pushed me back onto the bed. I took a swing, realizing just before my fist hit, it was Remy.

He took the blow, but looked down at me stunned, his eyebrows scrunched nearly together in the center, though one arched higher than the other. “Shara, it’s me!”

“Make them stop!” I clawed at his chest, the impulse to fight trying to surge out again. “Get this thing off me. Get me out of here. Please!”

“No!” He leaned on me harder. “Something’s wrong and we’re not leaving until we know what it is.” He stared me down, eye-to-eye. “If you keep