Throwback Thursday: ‘On the Sixth Day’ by Deborah L Davitt

Survival and sacrifice make for anguished companions in ‘On the Sixth Day’ by Deborah L Davitt, excerpted here from Issue 23, Summer 2019. When confronting the limits of memory, the protagonists must ask, How can you trust what’s real, if you can’t even trust your own mind?

On the Sixth Day 

by Deborah L Davitt

Day Two

Liqui hunkered beside Phillipe warily. Her hazmat suit reeked of two days’ sweat. Their lab had been built at the bottom of an old missile silo, buried in bedrock, so that in case of emergency, the entire complex could be collapsed.

In case of emergency. She laughed nervously, earning a glare from Phillipe. “Something’s funny?” His Québécois accent seemed harsher for the whisper.

Her laughter died. “We have to get to the director’s office and push the button.”

Phillipe hissed between his teeth. “You want us to commit suicide?” He shook his head. “We contact the CDC, the way the director should’ve —”

“She was infected —”

“She just didn’t want her accreditation revoked.” A snort.  “We get to communications and radio out.” Cell phones didn’t work here, deep underground. “They’ll get us out and contain the rest.”

Liqui swallowed. What if they decide to remote detonate?

Day Three 

They’d planned to walk out in full gear, passing their former co-workers in protective anonymity. But the infected somehow knew that Liqui and Phillipe weren’t one of them. They’d watched, blank-eyed, lips moving in silent communion with the rest of their new collective intelligence. Then they’d converged.

 The pair ran, feet pounding along the tiled corridors, and found disused labs in which to hide under equipment covered in plastic drapes. 

The intercom crackled with the director’s voice: “Phillipe Gangier and Liqui Huang are among the infected. The virus creates brain inflammation, sensitizing the amygdala to fear reactions, creating a sense of paranoia in those affected. Please use caution in approaching them, and be gentle with restraint procedures. They’re our people, and they need our assistance.” A pause. “Phillipe, Liqui, if you’re hearing this … please come in. Let us help you.”

To find out what happens next, pick up your copy of Issue 23, Summer 2019 here!

Deborah L Davitt was raised in Nevada but currently lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and son.  Her poetry has received Rhysling, Dwarf Star, and Pushcart nominations, and her short fiction has appeared in InterGalactic Medicine Show, Compelling Science Fiction, Pseudopod, and Galaxy’s Edge. For more about her work, including her Edda-Earth novels and upcoming poetry collection, The Gates of Never, please see edda-earth.com.