Free Shockball by S. L. Viehl

panic I grabbed Jenner and hauled him out of what I thought had been a storage compartment. It disappeared, too. Soon everything was gone, and we were left standing in a large, empty compartment lined with some kind of glowing, yellow mesh.
    I thought of the thoracic training unit, the lack of odors, and groaned. “I don’t believe it. How could I be so stupid? It was all a simulation.”
    “Yes.” Reever kicked aside Nine-Six-One, who had turned into a simple recording device on rollers, also covered with the glowing mesh. “We should exit this area now.”
    We went out into the empty corridor. It, too, was lined with mesh. “The shuttle. We brought the shuttle over from the Sunlace . That’s real.”
    “I doubt we can reach it. They’re probably on board by now.”
    He was two for two, I thought, as I heard the thundering sound of many footsteps running toward us. “I knew Joe’s present would turn out to be a lemon.”
    Reever turned and caught me in his arms. “Cherijo, whatever they say or do, don’t fight them.”
    As it turned out, neither of us had a chance to fight anything. A small panel opened on the corridor wall beside me, and I turned a few seconds too late.
    “Reever, look out—”
    A bright, hot beam of energy burst over us. I fell to the floor, my vision already going dark. Just before I lost consciousness, I felt Reever’s arms close around me.
     
    “Dr. Grey Veil.”
    The voice was feminine. High-pitched. Cheerful. I wanted to slug whoever owned it.
    “Can you hear me, Dr. Grey Veil?”
    Certainly I could hear her. There was no way to avoid that kind of voice, other than puncturing my own eardrums. It acted like a parietal drill on my skull, drilling in to meet my huge, throbbing headache.
    “It’s time for you to wake up now.”
    Was she nuts? Some lunatic had beaten me, glued my eyelashes together, and lined my mouth with hundred-year-old waste. Every muscle I had felt torn and abused. Unless I got to return the favor, I wasn’t ever going to wake up again.
    The Truman. Why aren’t I on the Truman?
    Recalling that made me force my sticky eyelids open. A smiling Terran female face floated above me, her features partially obscured by light gleaming off a surgical visor shield. Or her toothy smile. Either one could have produced all that mega-shine.
    I could knock a few of those pretty white teeth out, I thought. See if that helped cut the glare.
    Before I could take a swing, she slid the shield up and out of the way. “Good, you’re awake. I’m so glad. How are you feeling?”
    She said that like she meant every word. I spotted the glittering, brand-new gold insignia on the collar of her trendy physician’s tunic, and went stiff.
    Oh, God. They’d stuck me with Doctor Sunshine and Happiness.
    “Don’t be afraid.” She patted me the way she would a shivering dog. “You’re safe now and doing just fine.”
    Afraid? I was terrified. She was such a rookie, she still believed it actually mattered what she looked like. I started yelling—or tried to. “Where am I?”
    My croak made her chipper smile become more sympathetic. “Poor thing,” she crooned, stroking my forehead. “Don’t remember a thing, do you?”
    I remembered how to inflict severe head trauma. I took a deep breath to tell her that, and immediately started coughing. What was in my lungs? It felt and tasted like someone had poured laser rig coolant into them.
    “Slow, shallow breaths now. We just took you off the machine, and you’re still transitioning.”
    I didn’t transition—Jorenian ships did. Was I on one?
    I looked around. Monitors, berth optics, a vitals array. Medical. I was in some kind of medical facility. Then I remembered I’d been captured by the League. Apparently now they were going to start experimenting on me.
    Time to exit the premises.
    She touched my face again with her soft hand. “Please, don’t try to move or speak, Doctor. You’ve been in sleep suspension for an entire