Free A Step Beyond by Christopher K Anderson Page B

watched the green hills of Montreal float by on the high-definition as he pedaled vigorously on top of his stationary bike. He imagined the smell of the clean country air as it passed through his nostrils to fill his lungs with oxygen. His conversations with Brunnet were a source of mental stimulation for him.
    “I haven’t given up on them entirely,” Brunnet replied in between gasps for air. “It’s just that I don’t believe a Martian life-form needs to resort to such desperate measures.”
    “If your hypothesis regarding underground rivers is correct, you may not need to resort to crystophages.”
    “That’s right. I was just considering various possibilities.” Brunnet was resting against the rubber straps of the exercise machine, collecting his thoughts. “Sometimes I’m convinced Mars must be teeming with life below its surface. That is, if the rivers do exist.”
    “I’m not so sure I would go that far. The absence of sunlight must be an inhibitor.”
    “Nonsense. There are all sorts of creatures that can survive without sunlight. Earth’s oceans are filled with them. I can name several dozen species that live quite happily in absolute darkness.”
    “Still, I think I would stop somewhat short of ‘teeming.’ You must admit that certain environments are more hostile to life than others.”
    “Yes, but we are talking about water. And water is the friendliest of all.”
    Brunnet’s triumphant smile lasted only a few seconds. His facial muscles tightened. A low and painful moan slipped through his lips. He doubled over, grabbing his abdomen with both hands.
    Endicott, who was absorbed with the green hills of Montreal, reluctantly tore his eyes from the screen to investigate the source of the moan. Because of the maze of metal and rubber that surrounded Brunnet, he was unable to see him clearly. The second moan, much louder and more drawn-out than the first, left little doubt in Endicott’s mind that Brunnet was suffering from severe pain.
    “What is it?” he asked. He stopped pedaling.
    “I thought it might have been space sickness.” The voice that responded was weak and shaky.
    “What might have been space sickness?”
    “I was feeling nauseous earlier this morning.”
    “Vomiting?” Endicott asked.
    “At the very beginning. But it subsided.”
    “Where is the pain?”
    “My stomach.” He was gasping for air.
    Endicott climbed off the stationary bike and hurried over to Brunnet.
    “Where exactly?” he asked.
    Brunnet, his eyes closed now, pointed at the lower right side of his abdomen.
    “Can you climb out of that contraption?”
    Brunnet nodded, then unstrapped and carefully extracted himself from the resistance machine. He attempted to stand up straight, but upon reaching midway stopped and smiled awkwardly in defeat.
    “Have you experienced the pain before?”
    “No.”
    “Temperature?” he said, placing his hand on Jean Paul’s forehead, not waiting for a response.
    “Maybe, I’m not sure,” Brunnet responded, shuddering as a wave of nausea swept through his body.
    “You’re hot. Take your shirt off and lie down on the table.”
    Brunnet fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. They were too small for his trembling fingers. Endicott came to his assistance. Several minutes later Brunnet was flat on his back, looking up at Endicott with considerable concern. He was now certain in his own mind that something was seriously wrong with him.
    “OK, does this hurt?” Endicott asked, tapping sharply the lower right side of his abdomen.
    “Merde,”
shrieked Brunnet.
    “I’ll assume that means yes,” Endicott said. “And how about here?”
    Endicott carefully tapped his way around Brunnet’s stomach. The pain diminished the farther he tapped from the lower right quadrant.
    “Did the pain originate from the back and move forward?” “I don’t think so. It was more like a stomachache. Mild nausea at first. Like I said, I thought it was space sickness.”
    “Constipation