Collided

Chapter 7

Alyssa's ears caught a faint voice, causing a mixture of fear and courage to surge within her. She swiftly sat up on her bamboo bed, her senses heightened.

"Who's there?" she called out, her voice a blend of caution and curiosity.

Quickly rising from her bed, she crossed the room to the door and opened it with care. However, the space beyond was empty, shrouded in silence. Puzzled, she returned to her bed and knelt down to peer beneath it. Empty still. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a dream, she reasoned with herself, though a trace of uncertainty lingered.

To dispel her lingering unease, she crept back into bed, determined to embrace slumber once more. Yet, as sleep threatened to reclaim her, her sense of urgency escalated. The voice couldn't be dismissed as mere imagination. With determination overcoming her fatigue, she awoke fully, every nerve alert.

In the dim light, she made out her father's figure, engrossed in his search for a book.

"Father? You're truly back!" Joy surged through her as she wrapped her arms around him, relief palpable. "I'm so relieved you're safe."

"Awake at this hour?" He responded, stifling a yawn.

"Yes," she chuckled softly. "Good morning."

"How was your night?"

"An eventful one. And you? Are you well?"

A yawn escaped him as he admitted, "Exhausted, I must confess."

"I'll prepare some leftover chicken soup that I made for myself. You should have some."

Her father's gratitude swelled a testament to the deep bond between them—a bond that motivated his tireless efforts.

"Thank you, my dear."

"Are you feeling tired?"

"After a long journey, rest is certainly in order."

"As am I. I had a rather unsettling dream, bordering on a nightmare."

"Would you like to share it?"

"Certainly, but first, I need to return the cart to the riverside for communal use," Alyssa informed him.

"That's my angel. I need to meet with the Sultan briefly. He's currently conferring with the council."

"Hurry back, papa." he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before departing.

"And you as well," he murmured, watching her leave, a mixture of pride and concern etched across his face.

The council unanimously accepted the proposal and committed to working alongside Dr. Adler and the team of scientists. However, they stipulated that they needed a month to organize and prepare. While this decision brought a glimmer of hope, it also seemed like an eternity. The weight of the impending loss of more lives pressed heavily upon Dr. Adler's heart. The thought of more lives slipping through his fingers haunted him relentlessly. Despite his efforts to quell such thoughts, they persisted, each time growing more suffocating.

The following day, he duly conveyed the council's decision to the team of doctors through a broadcast on their station. He was meticulous in delivering the message, ensuring that every nuance was conveyed accurately.

As he proceeded with his day, he decided to take a bath, his mind still preoccupied. However, as he undressed, his gaze fell upon his skin, which bore an unfamiliar rash. Alarm surged through him.

"Oh no..."

Though it wasn't overtly visible yet, he knew what it likely signified. He had tried his best to conceal it beneath the folds of his flowing robe, but he knew the truth couldn't remain hidden for long. The Cilomina virus had started to manifest within him. The very virus he had dedicated his life to eradicating was now claiming him as its victim. He realized that it was only a matter of time before the evidence of his affliction became undeniable. Dread settled over him as he contemplated his daughter's inevitable discovery of his condition. The secret he had harbored weighed heavily on his conscience, and he could only hope that Alyssa would find it in her heart to forgive him.

Unbeknownst to Alyssa, her father was now waging a silent battle against the virus for over three weeks—a span longer than most victims survived. The virus typically claimed its host within two weeks, a fact that compounded his fear and urgency. With careful management and the use of various tinctures and techniques, he had managed to stave off the most dire effects, successfully concealing his condition. He had the support of a group of sick individuals he had been tending to, a responsibility that drove him to continue his work despite his own failing health. His only source of anxiety was the fate of his daughter and his people, the very individuals he had sworn to protect.

A sudden surge of realization jolted him. He recalled advice from his late brother that might offer a breakthrough in Earth's efforts to establish communication with the alien planet. This was an opportunity that couldn't be squandered.

As he felt the grip of death tightening, he grabbed a pen and paper with haste. He knew he didn't have much time left, but he was determined to communicate what he knew to his beloved daughter. He scrawled a page filled with instructions, confessing his omission and pleading for her understanding. He placed the envelope containing the letter alongside his bag of shillings under his pillow, signing the letter with a heavy heart. With that final gesture, he hoped to provide Alyssa with the guidance she would need in his absence, a solace he could offer from beyond the veil.

The knowledge of his imminent demise weighed heavily upon him. As he closed his eyes, his thoughts turned to Alyssa. A mixture of gratitude for Sultan's potential guardianship and anguish over leaving his daughter alone in a world fraught with death consumed him. The tears that streamed down his face bore witness to the depth of his turmoil. He had always strived to be a loving and caring father, and the idea of departing this world and leaving Alyssa to navigate it alone was a profound source of guilt.

Though the ache of parting was acute, he took solace in the prospect of reuniting with his late wife. Memories of their shared moments flooded his consciousness. He remembered her kindness, her selflessness, and the love they had nurtured together. Her presence, even in memory, brought him comfort as he surrendered to the embrace of sleep.

Meanwhile, Alyssa returned home to find her father peacefully asleep. She began to prepare his bath, noticing that he was still wearing the same clothes from the morning. Concerned, she gently nudged him awake. 

"Father? I've prepared your bath."

However, his stillness was unyielding. "Father, wake up," she urged, growing anxious. She tried to rouse him, her heart racing as a sense of foreboding settled over her. She pressed her hand against his chest, only to be met with cold stiffness. Panic surged within her; it was as though the nightmare she had once experienced had transformed into a chilling reality before her eyes.

"Father, this isn't funny! If you're playing a joke, stop now!"

It wasn't until she noticed the rash on his skin that the truth dawned upon her. Grief and fear clashed within her as she realized the gravity of the situation.

"Father! Please, wake up!"

The Cilomina virus had claimed her father. His life had slipped away, leaving an unfathomable emptiness in its wake. At that moment, reality struck her like a cruel blow. Her eyes burned with tears, her heart ached with a pain she had never known before. Her father was gone, a poignant truth that bore down on her like an insurmountable weight. How had she failed to see the signs? How had she been so blind?

Collapsed on the bed beside him, Alyssa's sobs echoed through the room. Her hands clutched at the bedsheets, her world shattered by this sudden and irreversible loss.

"Father... No, you can't leave me all alone!" Her voice wavered with grief, her sorrow echoing through her cries. In her anguish, her hands brushed against the bedsheet, scattering it in her distraught state. Alyssa's fingers closed around the vials of hidden tinctures, a silent testament to her father's determination to protect those around him, even in his own struggle. Yet, there was something else. Her touch grazed an envelope, tucked beneath the pillow along with a bag of shillings.

With a trembling hand, she retrieved the envelope, her vision blurred by tears. As she opened it and began to read the heartfelt words her father had penned, the weight of his love and the gravity of his situation washed over her.