Chapter Twenty
“Wilder,” said a voice.
She was in her forest home, trapped against the ceiling by the a-grav machine. How long had she been there? Days. It was early morning, and the new day’s sun was shining through the window and the gaps in the woven, dried leaf fronds of the walls.
It hurt so much. She couldn’t feel her feet or hands, and she couldn’t remember when she’d last been able to move her limbs. But worse than all that was the dreadful thirst. Outside her window, dew sparkled on the vegetation. The glittering drops looked more precious than gemstones. If only she could lick them. To lick just one leaf would be bliss.
“Wilder,” the voice repeated.
She opened her eyes and saw the blank face of a starship’s bulkhead. She was aboard the Opportunity. The ghost of the pain and
