by Anna Lewis
As the trio sat in the quiet and cold room, a rush of movement came from up the hall. Voices echoed in the distance. Everything slammed into high gear as soon as the rescue team arrived, bringing with them a stretcher on which to transport the injured cyborg. Lena followed them all the way to the transporter ship where she sat next to him for the entire ride back to Earth. A medic inserted an IV into Trevor’s arm and then cleaned the wound, applying strips of gauze to keep anymore blood from escaping his body.
“He’ll need a round of blood,” Lena informed the soldier. “And a dose of morphine after we land.”
“Right away, Dr. Clark,” said the soldier.
As Lena and Trevor headed for Earth, Wesley was still in the mother ship helping people out of the cargo area. A number of soldiers were exploring every crevice of the ship, making sure to destroy any surviving Vihatagons. One of the soldiers asked what they were going to do with the mothership once it was emptied. Another replied that he wasn’t sure. The scientists would likely want to take hold of it and study its alien technology. Perhaps they could learn about the mechanics of this alien civilization that had gone on such a wild killing spree. The most they could understand was that they were particularly preoccupied with taking over the majority of the galaxy by building an army of cyborg-human hybrids.
It was as if the world was holding a collective thought about the invasion, pondering their own fragile existence and how they fit into the balance. When they had started branching out into other inhabitable planets, this question came to light, but it didn’t strike them as much as it did now. Wesley stared at the empty cargo area. It was eerily quiet in the gargantuan room where soot covered the ground. He kicked up a bit of the black dust and thought of his comrades who were amidst the mess. Many people had died here and he would never forget this horrible event. It would haunt him for the remainder of his years, but it would not break his spirit.
The event had strengthened his faith in people. He knew that they could make a huge difference on the planet as long as they remained connected. Perhaps this would be a lesson for them to embrace their differences and work together. After all, there were bigger threats in the universe than each other. Wesley imagined how many more alien species might be out there trying to impose on their planet. What was the potential for another invasion? While the Earth had received quite a few visitors over the past thirty years, they had never encountered such a vile and destructive alien species. Were there more hiding amidst the stars?
As Wesley pondered the fate of his world, he walked around the alloy hallways and peered into open rooms. The soldiers had started looting much of the equipment and tools. They would likely utilize the drones as well considering how much they could get done with synthesizing technology. A cold draft met his face and he looked around, noticing that he was alone.
“Hello?” he called out to the empty hall.
Nothing responded. No gurgling came from the other end. There were no footsteps. The entire mothership seemed to have become a tomb, its ghastly silence a reminder that everything eventually comes to an end. When a soldier appeared from around the corner, Wesley didn’t hear him calling. His ears were ringing with the sound of ray guns, gurgling, and screams. The soldier stepped forward and called for him again, reminding him that they had to exit the ship soon.
“Wesley!” called the soldier. “Let’s go!”
The abrupt call brought him out of his silence and he followed without hesitation, his feet carrying him to the transporter ship that was waiting for the last batch of soldiers. The group boarded without a word, the scenes from the past week flashing before their eyes as they headed back home. A soldier mentioned that he needed a strong drink and some of the other soldiers chuckled in response, agreeing that they also wanted a beer. Wesley remained silent. There was nothing that could possibly remove the harsh memories of his experience. Nothing could take away the fact that his best friend was destroyed.
Nothing could heal that pain.
***
As the transporter landed on the roof of the hospital, Trevor’s eyes fluttered. He had lost consciousness during the trip which made Lena panic. They rushed him from the vehicle as soon as the doors were open and got him into an operating room on the fifth floor, hooking up a few bags of medicine to his IV. This moment was strikingly similar to the initial cyborg surgery. A few of the medical soldiers were helping her prepare him, gathering instruments and sanitizing everything in sight. Lena washed her hands and then pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. She took a deep breath.
Trevor was lying on the table in a state of shock. The amount of blood he had lost was far too much for a human, especially one who was as damaged by battle as he. Never had he imagined that he would be back on this table where he first saw Lena’s angelic face. Her figure appeared as a silhouette beneath the operating light, Trevor momentarily regaining consciousness and seeing the shape of her head. A small smile crossed his lips. It filled Lena with hope.
As Lena prepared, she hummed a song that she thought might keep Trevor from disappearing into the darkness forever. They had to put him to sleep in order to operate. It frightened her to think he might not wake from that sleep, but it was part of her job to do this. The thought caught her off guard as she realized she no longer had a job at the hospital. Would they reinstate her now that the world was different? Maybe the suspension would be temporary? Perhaps she could get a job working as a medic for the general or join the scientists in their quest for knowledge. But where would that leave Trevor?
Lena quickly pushed all of these thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. She instructed the medics surrounding her of the tools she needed, carefully cutting away the shirt in order to inspect his wounds. Most of his organs were still intact. The nails hadn’t dug too much deeper than the muscles which would need repair.
“Searing pen,” Lena said to the medic next to her.
The man immediately handed her a long wire with a small pen attached. It made no noise as Lena dragged it along the interior of Trevor’s body, being extra careful to seal the muscle back together. More blood was being lost. The medic to her left announced his heart rate while the monitor beeped rapidly. An alert appeared next to his vitals on the screen. Lena ignored it and pressed on.
“Another blood pack,” she said to her helpers.
They quickly moved about the room, bringing her more blood packs and tools that she would need. It wouldn’t be long before the front of his skin was seared back into place. While he was on the table, she made sure to check for broken ribs and ran a few x-rays to see that his body was intact. The results appeared on the screen and she nodded with approval. Everything was fine. The only thing left was for Trevor to rest, the morphine pumping through his system to reduce the pain of being burned by the searing pen.
As the medics moved him to a rolling bed, Lena accompanied him to the recovery room where he would sleep for a number of days. Each meal was eaten next to his bed. She read him books. Soldiers and officers would come to his bedside to offer their thanks, bringing him all manner of gifts. The scientists called at some point to inform Lena of their discoveries on the ship and told her that the military planned on disposing of it within the next two weeks.
“What else did you find on the ship?” Lena asked over the phone as she munched on frozen berries.
Since the hospital was emptied of patients and staff, much of the food had been left behind. It was still fresh and Lena helped herself to the kitchen as did many of the people who were staying in the rooms until their planes arrived to head back to their homes.
“The computers held an enormous collection of data. It will take years to analyze it all. These Vihatagons had stores of knowledge on distant planets that we’ve yet to see. It was wonderful being able to retrieve that before the ship disappears,” replied Dr. Warren.
“That sounds fantastic. I’d love to look through more of those documents if you wouldn’t mind,” replied Lena.
�
��Absolutely,” he said. “And how is our hero doing?”
Lena sighed. The monitor beeped slowly in the background as she studied Trevor’s face. He looked peaceful resting in the bed, undisturbed by aliens or orders. Or me, she thought.
“He’s alive,” said Lena. “I think he’ll be fine.”
“You’re a wonderful doctor. He’s in great hands,” said Dr. Warren.
“I appreciate that, sir,” said Lena with a smile. “I’m just worried he might never wake up.”
“Have faith in your ability to heal. Your hands have a gift and you can do more than simply operate,” he said in response. “Don’t forget the power of your voice.”
It made Lena smile wider as tears came to her eyes, reminding her of how she was humming in the operating room.
“Thank you, Dr. Warren. I need to run a vitals check. Let me know when I can come look through those files,” said Lena.
“Yes, ma’am. Take care,” said Dr. Warren.
“You, too,” said Lena.
When she got off the phone, she stood from the chair and stretched briefly before checking Trevor’s vitals. Déjà vu struck her while she leaned over his body. A rush of images filled her mind of the first time they had made love, of the way his hands had gently curved over her hips and gripped her skin. The skin of her thighs twitched at the thought.
“Oh, Trevor. Please, come home,” she whispered through quivering lips.
It took all of her strength not to break down at that moment, her intense feelings causing her to feel nauseous. She felt like she was about to vomit. As she ran to the bathroom, Trevor opened his eyes and blinked a few times. The room appeared shiny as he returned to the world of consciousness, the sun filtering through the window. It seemed brighter than usual. Clouds of smoke no longer blocked the light, allowing the sun to bathe the Earth in healing rays of orange and yellow. It was the most beautiful thin he’d ever seen besides Lena’s face.
Lena returned from the bathroom to see Trevor awake, rushing to the bed to wrap her arms around him. Trevor groaned.
“I’m sorry!” she said through happy tears. “I’m just happy that you’re finally awake!”
Sobbing, Lena pressed her cheek to his and stroked his hair, breathing in the scent of his skin. She didn’t care that he was covered in sweat and needed a bath. It was him. His scent would always be her greatest memory.
“Oh, Lena...” Trevor croaked. “Thank you.”
He knew she had taken care of him. Her dedication and affection brought him out of darkness and back into light, love leading the way. Happy tears streamed down his face as he stroked her cheek. Lena pulled back to look into his tears, absorbing every bit of affection from his gaze and smiling.
“I have a surprise for you,” she whispered.
Trevor smiled, his throat dry from being asleep for three days. Noticing his discomfort, Lena picked up the cup of water next to the bed and allowed him to drink from the straw. It quenched his thirst and he smiled with gratitude.
“What is that?” he asked.
Lena bit her lower lip. The smile on her face beamed bright in the afternoon light as she pulled a plastic pen from her pocket, holding it up in his line of vision. A blue happy face greeted him on the display to which he yelled triumphantly.
“We’re having a baby,” said Lena through a smile.
The overwhelming joy made Trevor weep, reaching his human arm out to embrace the love of his life. The war was over and the aliens were gone. They could live another day in peace amidst their earthly comrades. Now that they were having a baby, they could truly live the life they had imagined during the invasion. It inspired Trevor to be more than a commander in the Navy, more than a machine bred to cause mayhem and win wars. He wanted to change the world and inspire peace, giving up the life of violence that he had once led. The two kissed in the afternoon light, intermittently laughing and crying as their lips danced together. Delight radiated from their bodies as they cuddled under the sheets. Love had kept them alive.
Love had won the battle.
THE END
= Bonus Book 8 of 8 =
The Dragon Twins
Lara Fox sat waiting for the basket to make its way back around the long, cafeteria-style table, at which she sat at the head. The room was stuffy, the smell of their pizza from lunch still clinging to the air. Lara closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose and trying to make the headache that had been creeping in on her go away.
It was almost dinnertime, and after being stuck in this room for the past week at the end of a month-long trial, Lara was hoping that she would never get summoned for jury duty again.
The basket finally reached her, and with a trembling hand, she opened up the first secret ballot and laid it on the table.
“Guilty,” she said, afraid to get her hopes up.
This was only about the millionth time they’d voted on the verdict, and she was afraid it was going to go the way it had gone every other time. How they were still at this point after deliberating for so long, she had no idea, but she continued going through the folded papers in the basket, the “guilty” pile getting bigger with each passing moment.
She was six ballots in when it happened. She opened up the paper carefully, looking at the words in the neat script and sighing heavily.
“Not guilty,” she said, her voice dropping off, the urge to let her head drop to the table strong.
There was a collective groan in the room, the single holdout vote apparently groaning with the rest of the jurors so that no one knew who he was. She sighed, looking around at the eleven men in the room and wondering who it was that honestly thought that the mobster on the stand was innocent of murdering a family of three.
It was baffling to her. They had all listened to all the same testimony, yet somehow, someone in the room didn’t believe that the man was guilty despite the evidence.
There was a knock on the door, and the bailiff poked his head in.
“The judge said you have five minutes to make a decision. There is no more time to deliberate. The defendant's lawyer is already huffing about a mistrial.”
Lara shook her head in disgust.
“Same answer, different vote.”
The bailiff looked visibly disappointed.
“Whatever your verdict is, the judge is ready now. Let’s go.”
The jurors stood almost as one, filing out the door single file and following the bailiff down the hall and into the room that held the door to the jury box and the courtroom.
Lara went in last, taking her seat as jury foreman and looking at the judge.
“Has the jury come to a decision?” the judge asked, looking at Lara.
Lara stood, looking straight at the judge, knowing that the news wouldn’t be well-received and afraid to look at the audience seated quietly in the gallery.
She cleared her throat, licking lips that had suddenly gone dry. She thought of her cozy little cottage in the tiny suburb outside of Fort Worth. Lara would have given anything to be there instead of in the jury box, all eyes on her, waiting for a verdict that was going to make an awful lot of people very angry.
“Did the jury reach a unanimous verdict?” the judge pressed.
She swallowed, breathing deeply and sighing.
“We did not, Your Honor.”
There was a collective gasp and several angry shouts of incredulity. Lara wanted to melt into the uncomfortable chair behind her, but she knew that wasn’t possible. She was stuck, and there would be no leaving until the court was dismissed for the day.
The judge banged his gavel, looking over at the jury box with a disapproving stare. Lara wanted to shrink even more, even though she knew that his disapproval wasn’t directed at her.
“I have no choice but to call a mistrial,” the judge said, looking at the mobster over the rim of his glasses. “Another trial will be set, and you will be notified.”
“What about bail?” the defense attorney asked before the judge could lower h
is gavel.
“No bail.”
The defense attorney said, “This man has been in custody for a year with no bail. You are infringing on his constitutional rights. A retrial could be another year or two down the road.”
“Then he’ll get credit for time served,” the judge said.
“You’re assuming he’s guilty,” the defense lawyer shot back. “Innocent until proven guilty, or did we wake up in another country?”
The judge stopped, looking at the lawyer, his lips twitching as if he had something to say but thought better of it.
“Bail is set at ten million dollars,” the judge said tersely, slamming his gavel down and sealing the deal before the lawyer could object.
There was more murmuring, and shout of outrage and anguish from the family of the victims. The bailiff ushered the jury out of the box and out the door. The door closed, muting the sounds behind them as the judge banged the gavel again, struggling to regain control of his courtroom.
Lara let out a sigh of relief. They were almost done. Now to get on the bus and ride thirty minutes to the secure location where their vehicles were stored to protect their identities, then to make the additional twenty-minute drive to her little house in the hills. She was only an hour away from walking away from this experience and never looking back.
She couldn’t wait.
***
Lara turned the key in the lock, walking into her little house and putting her purse down. She carried groceries into the kitchen and closed the door behind her with her foot. The latch clicked, but she would have to return to lock the deadbolt.
“Stop being paranoid,” she said, admonishing herself for still being so nervous about everything.
It had been almost two weeks since the trial ended, and she still felt anxious every time she heard a car door shut down the street, or saw a car she didn’t recognize going down the road.
Her anxiety over the case and the outcome had been so bad that she had unplugged her television and kept her radio off in the car just to avoid any chance of hearing news about the trial. The public had responded in much the same way as the courtroom full of spectators. People were angry, and they were looking for someone to blame. There were already rumors swirling around that the jurors had been paid off by the mob, and Lara wanted no part in that. She was ready to go back to her quiet life, sewing handcrafted dolls for her online shop.
