Again, Alysa was silent as they set off for the city in the car, but after a few minutes Dev felt her hand on his knee and turning saw her looking at him, her eyes sad.
"I don't want to return to the city... not just yet. I want to see the sunset. Could we return to the hill?" Her voice was soft and Dev could not refuse: turning the car he sped back the way they had come. The day was still warm, even approaching dusk and Dev could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he drove, despite the fact that all the windows were open. All the while Alysa stared out of the open window at the countryside.
Arriving at the hill, Alysa remained seated in the car as she had last time, her face pale, her eyes wide; but as Dev walked round to her side of the car, she closed her eyes briefly and with a deep breath stood up. Dev stood and watched as she began to walk, first hesitantly, then with growing cofidance, up the gradiant, and then shrugged and followed her. He noticed how well she paced herself; that though she was not bulky, she was lithe, her muscles not underdeveloped; she was probably fitter than him, yet till now had hidden it. She reached the top before he did and stood waiting for him, gazing towards the horizon at the setting sun.
"Just in time" she called as he reached the top, and stood to rest. With a step away from him she turned, laughing out loud and stood, arms out to the sun. Dev moved towards her: she looked so beautiful in the warm light of the early evening, he wanted her. Her body, her touch and scent, everything called to him: he had never met anyone like her before and wanted to have her. He moved forwards and clasped his arms around her slim waist.
"Alysa, I want you, Alysa. Marry me, be mine..." At first his voice was confident but he stopped short as she gave no reply, but simply froze where she was, her arms drooping to her side.
"I've not seen a sunset like this in fifteen years... fifteen years since I stood on a hill just like this, and laughed with life. I was ten years old; my brother, who was with me then, was eighteen. He flew away the next day and I entered the academy myself the following Fall. After that I had no time for sunsets, or for countryside or nature: a pilot has no time at all for the fripperies in life; a pilot only has time for space and the stars..."
As Alysa spoke, at first Dev was bewildered, then as he realised what she said he twirled her about in his arms to face him, holding her tight by her waist. Her eyes was wide open and sparkled as he had never seen before.
"You remember? This is fantastic! When did it happen?" The girl slipped from his arms and took a step back, the smile on her face slowly becoming more serious, her head shaking slightly, as she turned from him once more.
"My name is not Alysa." her voice was soft but a little cold, "My name has never been Alysa. I cannot stay here. I cannot marry you. I do not belong here..." As Dev took in her words he stepped around her, his face angry, and grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her back,
"But you said yourself you loved Bountiful, you loved this world. How could you give up all this " with a sweep of his free hand Dev motioned towards the surrounding countryside "... for that dim box of a ship. I... we have so much to give you: you could belong here given time..." He paused, a frown on his face, shaking his head in disbelief. His brow was slick with sweat and yet he felt cold, too cold. The girl, with a sigh, yanked her hand from his he was surprised at her strength and stepped away from him. He stood still, a whisper leaving his lips like an afterthought, "you could belong..."
"I could not belong, I doubt your people would welcome me with open arms... after what I've done" She turned towards him and gave a smile: but it was cold. "I have killed you Dev: you and others. I have killed you Dev, as surely as if I had shot you."
The journey back to city was in silence: tension filling the car. The girl Dev still did not know her true name had insisted on returning at once. It was during the journey that Dev began to feel more odd: his head ached; his chest was tight, making it difficult to breathe and his palms and forehead were sweaty he found himself wiping his hands continually on the side of his pants, gasping for breath, though the windows were letting in plenty of breeze.
"They are among the first symptoms." The girl said without turning her head. He started to speak but she ignored him and Dev was left to drive on, his questions unanswered, his fear unstopped. On her instructions he drove her to the security building and without waiting for him, she quickly got out from the car and strode up the steps to the door. Dev parked and followed her.
The following three days were a nightmare for Dev Cleary. He was the first he was told to become ill, but not the only one: the illness was spreading through the world like wildfire, carried upon the wind, spread by human contact. One the first day he went to a meeting of the parliament: the girl was being questioned by the members. As he sat in the gallery she seemed so small, so fragile, sitting there, a single woman in this hall of men, running her hand through her hair, cooly answering a barrage of questions from the imposing dignitaries around her, he wanted to run down and help her, protect her: but the illness had taken hold and he could barely stand.
On the second day he was a patient in his own hospital. His fever was high and as the nurses tended to him he drifted in and out of consciousness. He dreamt, fever dreams, full of light and swirling colours, madness in his peripheral vision, nightmares all around him until finally he awoke and the fever had broken. A nurse stood over him, her eyes red and tired, her face pale. As he opened his eyes and she saw he was awake tears began coursing down her cheeks and she ran, unsteadily from the room.
Dev saw the girl one time before she left. A few days after he woke up he was taken, still unsteady, to the security building. She had asked to see him and Dev had found it difficult to say no. He was taken into the heart of the building, to a small room, guarded by armed security men and led through.
She was sitting cross legged on a raised pallet, the light from a small window the only illumination glinting on the side of her head. She was wearing the clothes Dev had brought for her days before but she was still beautiful.
"I'm not dead" Dev couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Hello Dev," the girl smiled "I can see that. Your government saw sense in time. I am glad."
"How do you mean? You brought a virus here, but I survived it, and if I can others can." Dev stopped as he saw the girl shake her head. "But I survived..."
"...because of the antidote, the cure brought here by us. Your government let them in just in time. Another hour and you would have died. In exchange for the cure, your government have made certain concessions..."
"What do you mean, concessions?" Dev said sharply, glaring at the girl. She merely smiled,
"Welcome to the space age, Dev Cleary, Bountiful has joined us: the first pilots are already here; you will have your own academy and station in a few years and in not many more Bountiful will produce its own pilots."
At first Dev looked shocked and then he in turn smiled. The girl raised her eyebrow. He kept smiling,
"But we will be resistant to the virus before too long and then we will kick you out, return our planet to how it should be, throw you back into the stars, where you belong..." The last words were spat out, as Dev realised bitterly how this woman, this girl, had used him: used him to betray his own people.
"And by the time you're all resistant, all safe, your young will be in the stars too and once they are there they will never bear to come back to earth." the girl stood and walked over the window and looked upwards the sun had set, the sky was turning deep blue and the first, brightest stars were being to glimmer above, "Let go, Dev, the time for isolation is over"
"But you... why?" The words stumbled from Dev's tongue, his head heavy. The girl moved forward and brushed her hand across his cheek up through his hair, then down to massage the nape of his neck, with the tips of her fingers. He shivered at her touch.
"... we thought an amnesiac female would be deemed to pose the least threat and have a higher chance of success..." The girl replied with a slight shrug but Dev interrupted,
"No... why did you do it? Why did you do this to us, to me?" His voice was raised and the girl's smile faded a little as she frowned in slight bewilderment.
"Because it's my job".