by Mark Lingane
“Sure. I wouldn’t want you getting all hot and bothered.”
“Why, sir, you say the most provocative of things.” She cooled herself behind a silk fan, fluttering it furiously. Her eyes remained steadfastly on his body.
He grabbed a small bucket of water and poured it over his head. It cascaded down over his body, washing away the sweat and soot. He reached for his shirt and slipped it on.
“Anything for a lady.” He bowed as she walked past him, beckoning him to follow.
She led him through the streets until they arrived at a rundown townhouse on the edge of the industrial zone. Peter scanned the area. Several out-of-town vagrants wandered by, occasionally staggering up to each other to exchange vital information about where to get a free drink. They seemed to be keeping a wide berth around the building.
“Not the nicest place in the city for a pretty young lady to live,” Peter said. “But you’re close to the hospital. You might be able to find work there.”
“I don’t know if I would be of sufficient use in such an important and respectable facility. I’m now bordering on debtors’ prison, and have no skills of value to the community.”
“Have you thought of a medical trade? Sometimes the best skill a nurse can have is an open ear. Try it. They’re understaffed and need all the good graces they can get.”
She looked at her feet uncertainly. “You’re a kinder man than most, Peter.”
“Think nothing of it. Now let’s get your luggage inside.” He flashed his smile, and Angel looked hurriedly away.
Several cases were stacked near the entrance. Peter hefted the largest one on his shoulder and gathered the two remaining smaller ones under his other arm. When he had taken the bags inside, she watched as he lifted them into the cupboard shelves.
“This small case is heavy,” he said.
Without thinking, she said, “It has my instruments in it.” She cursed herself for being distracted.
“Are you musical?”
“Alas, that skill was not enforced by an overbearing mother, as is usually the way of these things. Instead I must sit and appear interested in the discussions of men. Which I find less than interesting.”
“Will your mother be joining you?”
“She was unable to survive the threat of the enemy. She couldn’t take this climate and diminished into the clutches of the vapors until they claimed her.”
“It can happen too easily out here in this heat. Make sure you don’t go out in the sun for any extended time. You wouldn’t want to burn that porcelain skin.”
She raised her hand to her neck and delicately knocked the clip that held her scarf, which fluttered to the floor. The bared skin tempted, almost begging to be touched.
“Such strength and restitution you have,” she said.
Her gave her a quizzical look.
“To survive unfettered in such demanding conditions. You have been well trained.”
He stepped close and picked up her scarf, replacing it around her neck. He slowly secured the clip. She could feel the heat rolling off his body and hands—hard hands, working hands, hands that hinted of the warrior beneath. He stepped away. She could feel the flush in her face, which was almost crimson.
“No training for me, other than in obedience to the powers that be. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to whistle. I’ll never be far away.”
“If there comes a time, sir, I shall have my lips at the ready.”
She sat down on the ancient chaise set against the tiny and dirty window.
“Good day, ma’am, this has been fun. I earnestly hope we meet again.” He bowed once and left.
She watched him walk away very closely. “Damn,” she said as the door closed behind him.
20
NIKOLA TOOK A few moments after leaving the morgue to freshen up. He looked out the window as he toweled his hair. It sprang up into its usual untamed mess. His eyes fell on the hospital. He checked his watch next to the bed and hurriedly put on his uniform.
The florist in the street cried out her lament intended as a sales pitch, and he grabbed the sweet red roses, two blooms for a penny. He had six pennies, or at least the local currency equivalent. He muttered about out-of-towners diluting the local exchange rates, then made his way to the hospital.
The nurse smiled at him as she placed the roses in a vase by Isabelle’s bed. Nikola held her hand in silence as she watched the nurse.
“How I’ve longed to see you, Nikola,” she said, when the young girl had gone. “Every breath feels heavy now. I don’t think I’ll last long.”
She struggled to sit up. He leaned over and placed his hand behind her back and brought her upright. She stared out the window, lost in thought.
“It’s a beautiful view. I’ll miss it.” She turned to look at him. Her eyes were heavy and red-rimmed, but her face was still slender, beautiful and elegant. “My life has been a game of truth or dare, and I’ve always chosen dare. Now it’s time for the truth. You know I told you that Sebastian wasn’t your child to worry about?”
He nodded. “I remember.”
“Well, that might not have been the truth.”
“You don’t need to—”
“I do need to tell you,” she said, ignoring the interruption.
Her head lolled back and her eyes fluttered closed. “You remember after the graduation ball, that moment we stole together in the top floor of the admin building? It was dangerous, exciting, and secluded.” She waved her hands in the air, outlining the memory of his body from a decade and a half ago. She held his imaginary face in her hands and caressed the recollection.
He nodded. “I’ve never forgotten. I made sure it was the best memory I ever had, and nothing has been better.”
She raised her head wearily and forced her eyes open, tears seeping out the corner of one. “You shouldn’t have locked yourself away.”
“I made my choice. It was you or no one.”
“I wish I’d known.”
“So do I. It’s been hard.”
“It was all such a mess. Knowing a child was going to turn up turned my mind inside out. Every day I regretted leaving, but I had no choice. If the child had been a girl, I could’ve come back, but with a boy, I couldn’t take the chance.”
Nikola sighed. “When I was with the desert walkers,” he said, “I was visited in my sick bed by a strange old lady who hinted that this was the case.”
She looked at him. “So you knew?”
“Yes. But I didn’t know what to do about it.”
“Just be there for him.”
“I think it’s important that he doesn’t know.”
“I disagree.”
“His life has been too turbulent. He doesn’t need more. He needs to face his future on his own terms.”
“At some point,” Isabelle said, “please tell him. I don’t want him to feel alone.”
Nikola nodded. “I’ll do it when the time is right.”
“Speaking of alone, please lie next to me, just for a little while. Maybe for the last time.”
He sat on the bed next to her, then lay down. She rolled over and laid her hand on his chest. The door closed and he fought back the tears.
21
THE MORNING HAD been busy. Nurse Florence had been double-checking various forms and paperwork that seemed to have little to do with making people better. Paper lay everywhere, cascading out of folders all over the desk. Coffee mugs kept subjects in place against the occasional gust of wind that blew through the poorly fitted doors.
There was a light cough. Florence looked up over her glasses.
“I would like to apply to be a nurse,” came the young voice.
Florence looked over her overburdened desk. “Help is always welcome. Do you have your certificates?”
“I’m sorry, I’m new in the city.”
Florence examined the girl, who seemed barely out of her teenage years. “What’s your name, young lady?”
“Angel.”
“Ha, that’s appropriate at least. Listen, Angel, as deemed by our mayor, possibly to cut back on wages, before you can work as a nurse in the city, you need to have medical certificates. These are available from the mayor’s office for a reasonable fee, if you pass the examinations, which are also a reasonable fee. Unless, of course, you did your training in a recognized medical facility, in which case, the fee is diminished. But not by much.”
“I gained a lot of experience in Carranbine.” Angel looked away nervously. She clasped her hands together, twisting the delicate silk handkerchief.
“So, you have no qualifications?” Florence raised an eyebrow at the young lady. “What about proof of previous employment?” she said, spreading her hands.
“I’m sorry.”
“Until you can produce qualifications,” Florence said, “you can do light duties only and basically just be an orderly. We can teach you as we go, but it’ll be a long process.” She returned her focus to the mound of documents surrounding her. “Ah yes, the pay. As with all the other useful occupations involved with working for the government, it’s terrible. Welcome aboard.”
Florence tightened the bandage around the severed leg of the young soldier. Blood flowing for the last fifteen minutes had drenched the bedsheets. The seeping finally ceased and the young man drifted out of the pain into an unsettled unconsciousness.
She glanced at the sheets, then at the bandages. She chose the bandages and started to roll up the unused ones and store them in her bandage drawer.
There was a shout from one of the nurses in the emergency ward. She looked at the sheets again before frowning and bustling her way down the corridor. She passed through the office and shouted at Angel to follow her. Angel jumped up with the enthusiasm of a new puppy and ran after her.
They burst into the emergency ward, Angel behind Florence. A cyborg was writhing about on the examination table. Blood and fluids were leaking from all his limbs.
Angel’s face morphed into a mask of horror.
Florence glanced at Angel. “Have you seen the cyborgs before?”
“Yes, they came to my town and killed many people.”
“You need to put that behind you. They’re now our friends, apparently, and it’s our duty to help them where we can.”
Florence shouted orders at the junior nurses, who were trying to restrain the cyborg. One gave him a tranquillizer, injecting it into his neck. He slowly calmed, and the nurses started to examine his injuries.
Angel noted that no one was looking at his implants and mentioned it to Florence.
“We only tend to the flesh. The mechanical odds and ends are well beyond our abilities,” Florence explained. “All clear. He’s stable. Now we need to call in one of their own nurses to deal with the …” She indicated the implants on the cyborg’s legs.
Angel grabbed a bandage and quickly unwound it. There was a large wound in the leg, exposing muscle and machinery. She surreptitiously wound the bandage tightly around the wound, making sure the other women couldn’t see what she was doing. She flared her hand, and a wave of scorching heat rolled into the wound, cauterizing it and stopping the bleeding.
When the nurses had finished up, Florence examined their handiwork. “You’ve all done very well,” she said. “Especially you, Angel. Good work, very good work. I’ll see if I can get dispensation for your qualifications.”
There was another cry from within the depths of the hospital.
“What now?” Florence cried. She looked around at the assembled nurses. “Angel, stay here and clear up. The patient is stable. The rest of you come with me.”
Florence bustled out with the junior nurses in tow. Angel watched them leave and casually began to wind up the excess bandages.
The cyborg slowly opened his eyes. They roamed around the room until they came to rest on Angel’s back. When she turned to face him, his eyes widened in recognition. He tried to shout, but found his vocal-communication device unable to engage.
She shushed him and ran her palm over his forehead. “You need to rest,” she whispered. “Forever.”
Her hand glowed red. She placed it on the cyborg’s chest, closed her eyes and released. Every light on the cyborg flashed brightly, then went dead. Gases and liquids hissed as machinery failed. Small bolts of electricity, glowing blue, crawled over his body. Chemicals flooded into his body. He twitched under the pain as his limbs thrashed. Eventually, he stopped thrashing and lay still. His eyes stared at the ceiling, lifeless.
Angel turned away and walked out with a bounce in her step, smiling and humming a happy little tune.
22
THE DOCTOR SUMMONED Sebastian and he ran to the hospital as fast as his legs would carry him. The doctor looked sad in a professional kind of way. “She doesn’t have long. She asked to see you.” He opened the door and Sebastian rushed in.
Isabelle lay on the bed, her small body lost among the pillows and sheets. Her face had paled to near-white. Sebastian sat next to her on the bed. She held out her hand, and he gently cupped it in his own.
“Sebastian,” she croaked. “I need you to be brave. I need to tell you things that might help you understand.”
“Mom, there’s so much I want to know. Where do I belong?”
“About two hundred years ago, there was an accident in the Hive. A cooling tank failed. One of the nuclear generators exploded and released a near-lethal dose of radiation across the maintenance sector. Not all the cyborgs were killed. A handful of survivors stayed alive in the base of the Hive. They didn’t live long, but they were able to breed.”
“Erg. Mutants breeding. Gross. Did they have three eyes?”
“No. The radiation made their perception mutate, but not their bodies. After decades of existing in the bowels of the Hive, they were released and allowed to join the rest of society. But living with electromagnetic fields flowing around them constantly had made them more sensitive. They were different and society shunned them.”
Isabelle took a sip of water and cleared her rasping throat. “By accident, one of their offspring exposed his ability. He had tesla power. He was the original tesla. Fear rolled through the Hive. A mob went to the father and demanded the child be killed. The father refused. They attacked the child. The cyborgs hunted down all the cyborgs that had tesla power, killing most of them. The survivors tried to hide, but the cyborgs found them. So they did the unthinkable—they left the Hive. The father of the original tesla boy led a rebellion. All the affected ones fought their way out and escaped. But the hunting was relentless. For years, the cyborgs tracked them and killed them.”
“Why did it take so long for the cyborgs to find us?” Sebastian said.
Isabelle waved away his question. “When you’re a cyborg, anytime you’re near anything electrical, you can be found. The hunters came and they had to keep running, always running. Until, one day, they’d had enough. They found a place that was quiet and remote, Talinga.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as the pain swept through her. She rested for a moment, gathering her strength before continuing.
“Powerful teslas can control matter at the atomic level, bending it to their will. They can create and destroy, but each time they use their power, it hurts them, pulls them apart. The tesla boy, now a man, summoned up all the power he could and expelled it in an electromagnetic wave so powerful it destroyed everything electronic and electrical for miles. It also tore him apart. He died to create a safe home where his family could grow up peacefully and safely. That man was your great-grandfather. The original tesla.”
Sebastian’s mouth fell open in shock at the revelation.
Isabelle gestured toward the glass and Sebastian held her as she took another sip. “His son grew and had a child, a daughter—my mother, your grandmother. My mother’s parents kept all electromagnetic power away from their house. In the end, we had a small village of people that shunned electricity. Eventually, my mother had me, and there was no sign of tesla power.
She thought the curse had been broken. But then something unexpected happened.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened.
“There was a day here in the Academy … when I was with someone. We crept up to the top story of the administration building. And you were conceived with the roar of Omega behind us, wrapping around us. Maybe that kickstarted the power again, or maybe it’s something that only happens on the male side. This is your heritage, Sebastian, your burden.”
“I remember the power of the nuclear reactors in the Hive,” Sebastian said. “It could be controlled, but it hurt. Why aren’t I the same? Why does it hurt me so much?”
“Maybe Omega changed that. Maybe you are the same and haven’t discovered your full potential yet. But you were born from clean hydropower, rather than nuclear power, and perhaps that makes you different.”
Isabelle’s voice was all but gone. “That’s you, Sebastian. The past you never knew. I don’t know if you can understand it, but you need to think about it. Now tell me about your future. Do you have any special friends?”
His mind flipped at the sudden change. “But what about—”
“Enough of the past.” She calmed him with a caress of his face. “In the time left, tell me about the future. Please.”
“It’s been a bit complicated.” He gave her a small smile. “I met a girl.”
“Really? What’s her name?”
“@Summer.”
“That’s a …”
“Yes. She was a cyborg. She saved me. She broke her programming. She escaped and helped us. Then they tortured her in front of me.” His lip trembled as the memories came back.
She stroked her hand over his face. “Go find her. Cyborgs aren’t bad, only misguided.”
“Iris has taken her over.”
“A challenge, but everything can be undone. Nothing is ever truly broken. Go save her.”
“If only I could.”
