Cretaceous Sea

Con told the room lights to dim and went to bed. Sleep did not come easily. She lay awake envisioning Hitler and Stalin entering the room with weapons drawn to put her down like a stray dog in a pound. When she eventually dozed off, her fears brought forth vivid nightmares.

Con awoke in a sweat, thinking she held Rick's bloody corpse. The dim light of day filtered through the swirling colors. A new food cube lay at the foot of the bed. The fact that Jane had simply left the cube seemed ominous to Con. The troubled night had fed her sense of dread, and, as the day wore on, Con became increasingly apprehensive. She began to see her visit with Rick as a sign that the end was near, the equivalent of a condemned prisoner's last meal. Jane's statement that her coworkers had 'the information we require' took on sinister implications. They're done with me, Con realized. Now it's all a matter of waiting.

Yet passively submitting to her fate went against the core of Con's being. As she paced her prison in restless agitation, she formed a desperate plan. She resolved to breach the col-ored barrier. She reasoned that if she ran and jumped, her momentum would carry her through the field regardless of how her body responded to the pain. / endured it once, she told herself. When I recover this time, I'll be on the other side, free to find a way to Rick. Still, the memory of her previous agony held her back. It took another anxious and lonely hour before her desperation overcame her apprehen-sion. Finally, as the light outside faded, Con screwed up her courage. After several false starts, she made a running leap and curled into a ball as her body passed through the livid colors.

Con transformed into a creature whose only sensation was unbearable agony. She felt that her skin had been ignited, her bones crushed, and her muscles and entrails torn and mangled. She fell convulsing upon the snow, without the bream to scream or even moan. Pain washed her mind clear of thought and pushed it toward madness. She became less than an animal—a mindless, frenzied thing writhing on the ground in her own befoulment.

Existing only in a crimson universe of pain, Con was un-aware of Jane's approach. She did not feel Jane lift her like a child. Only when Jane pressed a device to the back of her neck and her torment diminished, did Con become dimly aware she was lying on her bed in the stone room. As a cooling sensation spread through her burning body, the world slowly came into focus. When Con saw the swirling colors between the colonnades, she burst into bitter tears.

Jane disappeared, then returned to find Con shaking on the bed as if in the grip of a fever. She lifted Con up and held a vessel to her trembling lips. 'Drink this,' she said. Con sipped the sweet, aromatic liquid. Warmth filled her mouth and throat. The shaking slowed, then stopped, and the last of the throbbing pain faded.

'No one has ever passed through the barrier,' said Jane. 'How could you do such a thing?' There was pity in her voice, but also a hint of wonder.

'I had to see Rick again,' said Con quietly.

Jane placed a translucent ovoid in Con's hand. 'You will want this,' she said. 'It is similar to soap.' Then she left the room.

The liquid Con drank had the effect of restoring her energy as well as eliminating the vestiges of pain. Con entered the bathroom, washed her reeking clothes, then bathed herself. The soap was a luxury she relished. Moreover, it seemed to be a token of a change in Jane's attitude toward her. When Con left the bath, she was surprised to see the black of night between the columns. The barrier was gone. Is it a malfunction? An oversight? A trap? Con suspected it was none of those. Perhaps it's a gift, she thought. What-ever else it was, Con knew it was an opportunity. She gazed into the night for only a moment before she quickly dressed in her damp clothes, dimmed her room's lights, and stepped into the darkness.

As soon as she crossed beyond the columns, it was bitterly cold. The glow from her ceiling provided the only light, and it was barely enough for her to find her way. When she reached Rick's room, it was too dark to tell if the colors barred her way. With trepidation, she stretched out her hand. She encountered no tingling, no pain. She shuffled into the warm, pitch-black room and heard the reassuring sound of Rick's breathing. She inched her way until she encountered the bed. Then, she quietly undressed and crawled next to Rick.

'Con?' said Rick sleepily after her groping hands found his face and she kissed him. When his hands found her, Con felt a delicious excitement as he became aware she was nude. She giggled, and said, 'I wish I could see your face.' Then she began to undress him.

'Do you think this is safe?' asked Rick.

'I don't care if it's safe,' replied Con. 'This may be our only chance. I want you, Rick. It's right. I know it's right.'

Con's hands discovered that Rick wanted her, too. They made love in an awkward frenzy. Embracing afterward in the dark, their passion returned, and they made love again. This time, they went slowly. Exploring each other with tenderness and love, they forgot where they were and lived in the eternal now. When they were spent, a serene drowsiness came over them, and they slept entwined. Con dreamed she stood before the immense pink cake, poised with a knife to cut it. As always, she hesitated and looked toward the door, hoping for her wish to come true. This time the door opened. Joe stood there, smiling and healed. Con ran past the cake, and Joe hugged her, saying, ' Constance, I have a gift for you. It's from your father.'

'What is it?'

'A message.'