by Ciara Knight
“Adams, hand me the scope,” the hazmatted soldier said. Adams opened the kit and removed a metal funnel-shaped object from the padding. With Penton’s head tipped back so his neck was stretched, the hazmatted soldier put a thumb on Penton’s chin and eased his mouth open.
As he began to slide the funnel in Penton’s mouth, Raeth screamed, “Wh-what’re you doing?”
“Don’t worry,” the soldier holding Raeth said. “Doctor Morrison knows what he’s doing.”
“The scope guarantees the air tube and suction tube stay in the trachea,” Morrison explained. He glanced at Adams and nodded.
Adams removed a large bronze device with a glass gage then attached a rubber-looking tube with a smooth, narrow opening at the end and handed it to Morrison.
“What’s that?” Raeth and I asked simultaneously.
“Suctions fluids and chemicals from the lungs. Oxygen next,” Morrison said, staying focused on his task.
Licking my cracked lips, I clutched Raeth’s hand as Morrison threaded first the suction tube then a second thinner tube through the scope’s opening. “Set.”
Adams flipped a switch and a sucking noise, kind of like slurping, started. A couple seconds later, he turned a knob on the small oxygen canister connected to the thinner tube and puffs merged with the suction. Penton’s chest began to expand with each puff and contract with each slurp.
Was my father correct, the outcome of the prophecy wasn’t fixed?
Raeth’s and my joined hands heated. I felt her within me. Together, we sent Penton waves of energy and love. Yet I couldn’t help but wish Ryder were here, his healing gift working.
A grey liquid drained from Penton’s lungs as a gurgle joined the noise of the two machines. A nanosecond later, brownish mush poured out into the biohazard bag attached to the suction machine.
Morrison glanced at us. “That’s damaged lung tissue.” Spotting Raeth’s blank face as she rocked and hummed, his eyes widened and he looked at me.
“When Raeth’s overwhelmed or very frightened, she sometimes escapes into a private world.”
“Don’t we all,” Adams muttered.
Morrison shot him a glare then rose and strode over to us. He clasped her shoulders and gave a small shake. “Raeth, there’s minimal tissue damage. He’ll recover.”
“Don’t ya worry, wee one. General Bellator sent me.”
Hearing Dred’s voice just behind me, I turned toward him. Large gashes marked his arms and forehead. “You okay?”
“Aye, pretty face. Got stuck under some concrete, but got meself and a few others out. Workers doin’ the rest. General knew I be down here, so he sent me to fetch brain man. We’re to report to the mess hall an’ get ourselves fixed up.”
Raeth looked up at him, tears filling her big, brown, pleading eyes. “Th-thank you,” she said, her relieved smile able to melt the strongest of men.
Dred cleared his throat. “No worries, wee one. I’ve got him once the doc get them tubes outta ’im.”
We watched as Adams replaced the biohazard bag and Morrison continued to monitor Penton’s vitals. When the bag was changed again, Morrison’s jaw unclenched, and grinning, he looked over at us. “It’s clear. Nothing’s coming up. Tell the medic he was exposed to chemicals and fire retardant. They’ll know what to do.” Gently, he eased the suction tube from Penton, but taped the thinner tube to the corner of his mouth. He nodded to Dred and handed Raeth the small oxygen canister. “He’s all yours.”
Dred bent, lifted Penton in his arms, and cradled him against his chest. “Come along, you two beauties.”
Raeth and I hugged Adams and Doctor Morrison, thanking them.
The Captain waved them into the lab. “In here, the sergeant needs attention.”
As we turned to leave, the captain moved in front of me. “You’re General Bellator’s daughter.” At my nod, a look of satisfaction crossed his face. “He’s right.”
“About what?”
“You were born to lead.”
Me a leader? I wasn’t ready to command troops in battle. My father, Fallon, and Ryder were soldiers, not me.
Wrong, daughter. You were called upon to make one of the toughest decisions a commander can. Sacrifice a friend for the greater good. Because of yours and Penton’s action, the Arc was saved and we’re still alive. Stop second guessing yourself. That leads to inaction and failure.
Chapter Thirteen
I entered the mess hall and froze. Except for my rapid breathing, nothing moved as memories of Ryder and hundreds of others, who clung to life back at the UE infirmary assaulted me. Only the sight of Dred striding ahead of me, with Raeth trotting beside him, got me moving. She needed me. But equally important, if I was to become the leader Father expected, I couldn’t allow my memories or this room of death to incapacitate me.
As I joined them, Raeth tapped a medic on the shoulder. “Doctor Morrison’s suctioned Penton’s lungs. He inhaled s-some chemicals or f-fire retardant.”
The medic pointed to an empty cot on the far side of the room as he touched an earpiece. “Penton’s arrived. Bed one-twenty-four. Morrison did initial treatment. Additional O2, plus Pyroandoxate and endo tubing.” He released the earpiece then glanced at us. “They’re on their way.” Without waiting for a response, the medic turned and moved on to the next patient.
Following them, I watched as Dred lay Penton on the cot then forced a grin, hoping it reached my eyes. “You hear that, Raeth? Penton’s going to be okay.”
Raeth glanced up from where she knelt beside Penton, brushing his hair off his face. “Th-thank you. I’m s-sorry I w-was hateful. You did what Penton wanted you to do.”
“That may be, but it still hurts to see him suffering.”
The doctor rushed to Penton’s side. He replaced the small oxygen canister with a large one then repeated Morrison’s actions with the scope and inserted a second tube. He glanced at Raeth gnawing her lower lip. “Don’t worry. It’s only temporary.”
She nodded. “Th-thank you for saving him.”
“My honor.” He attached a small glass vial filled with neon orange fluid to the second tube, held it upright as it emptied, then removed the tubing. “It’ll coat his lungs, forcing greater oxygen absorption and speed regeneration of tissue. He’ll be back in the lab in two days.”
I felt Father touch my mind, alerting me to his presence before he spoke. Bendar’s headed to you in the mess hall. I’ve told him you’ve learned about his part in your mother’s death. He’s desperate to speak with you and terrified you won’t want him near you.
I’m not sure how I feel right now, but it’s impossible for me to hate him when he loved me and kept me sane.
I still wish I could be at your side.
So do I, but I understand.
As the words slipped from my mind to Father’s, Penton’s eyes fluttered open. He thrashed and grabbed at the oxygen tube. Dred yanked Penton’s hands from it, restraining him, and secured Penton with his body weight, his nose almost touching Penton’s. “You’re okay, son. All okay. They gonna get you right.”
Penton’s eyes widened as he tried to talk.
The medic tapped his earpiece. “Sedation and a nose cannula, bed one-twenty-four.”
From a nearby med cart, a volunteer raced to the bed and handed the medic a pre-filled syringe. Before the needle was withdrawn from his bicep, Penton’s eyes rolled back in his head.
Exhaling, the medic glanced at Raeth. “Don’t worry. Just need him sedated until the treatment is complete. He’s one of the lucky ones. Makes removal of this easier, too,” he said, pulling the oxygen tube free. Once it was disconnected from the machine, he attached a new one, then slipped it around Penton’s head and settled two prongs just inside his nose. “Being able to talk should help.”
A hand touched my arm and I jerked. “Me,” Bendar said, his voice soft and wary.
I gave him a weak smile then turned to Raeth. “Bendar and I need to talk. Will you be okay for a couple minutes, Rae
th?” I hated leaving her there alone, but Bendar’s lips were pressed in a tight, thin line and the desperation in his eyes warned fear was driving him. If he spoke now, surrounded by all these people, there was no telling what kind of chaos it would cause. After all, it wasn’t just my mother who’d died.
Raeth continued stroking Penton’s face and nodded. Her focus on him, nothing else mattered.
I grabbed Bendar’s stubby hand and tugged. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Would been here sooner. Recovery efforts at UE make late.”
“Yes, I know.” I towed him to an empty office off the main hall then shut and locked the door. Turning a chair upright, I sat as he hopped onto the desk, facing me, and clasped his hands in his lap.
“Not make sense, I know. But I tell you truth. I not mean to betray. I search for cure. Be talker, talk right. I born this way. Queen say she have cure.”
I tried to remain rigid and unfeeling. The man I’d worshiped, who’d saved me too many times to count, whom I’d loved more than my own father, now sat before me, as the destroyer of multiple lives.
“Mother nice. Loved her. Queen manipulate and trick,” Bendar said, his words coming out in jumbled rush. “Told me Harrison plan attack lab. He had team ready. If I find and tell queen, she cure me. Didn’t know mother there. Queen say she send mother and baby away to save them. Harrison bad, he’d threatened humans. I saw news clips. Anger and promise to kill. Fabricated, but didn’t know at time. All confusing.” His voice cracked and he swiped his dripping nose with a stubby finger. “Didn’t know who queen was before that night.”
I wanted to say something, to ask a question but couldn’t. I didn’t know how to respond to discovering my hero had feet of clay.
“Night mother…that night learned truth. I told queen she wrong. She laugh. Now, I traitor to Harrison and all good people. Me always outcast, perfect minion for her.”
He stole a quick glance at me and, unable to meet my gaze, immediately bowed his head. “Perfect spy for Neumarians.”
That was why Father, through Fallon, had defended him to the council. Bendar was right. Once Mandesa had categorized him as a traitor, she figured so did everyone else, and Father, knowing her ego and vanity, used that flaw. Her inability to feel allowed Bendar to subvert her, while protecting me.
“Queen take you. I promise Father I watch and care. Didn’t do good job. Queen have bad temper.”
My love battled my confusion and pain, questions of his betrayal rising to the tip of my tongue. Wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I struggled between the urge to hug him and strangle him. In the end, I was too tired to do either.
“Death, so much unnecessary death,” I mumbled, staring at the floor. “I don’t know what to say, Bendar. Right now, I’m numb. Not just because of this, but also the suicide bombers, Penton’s injury, and Ryder’s gift not functioning have all sapped me dry. How many more will die, Bendar? Will Penton be next? Or Briggs? The orphans? How many more will betray us? Will Ryder’s gifts return? And if they don’t, what happens to the Triune?”
I wanted to take his hand and tell him I understood. After all, my own decisions had caused misery as well. My best friend had lost her leg and almost her life. I’d sent her love into a potential death trap, believing it was hopeless, yet willing to take the chance Penton might yet save us all. Even so I wanted—no, needed their forgiveness.
Would forgiving Bendar be a betrayal of my mother? How could I still love the man who had caused her death? Who had allowed Mandesa to butcher so many? I didn’t know.
“Let you think,” he said, scooting to the edge of the desk. “Know I love you from you three days old and I hold you. Love mother, too. She gentle lady—smart, kind, loving. You much like her. That why queen hate you.”
I wanted to walk away, to pretend I hadn’t learned the truth about my life. I wanted to return to the time when Bendar was still my savior. He’d seen me through my worst and best times.
“What feel?” Bendar asked. “Talk—ask anything. I tell you truth.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” I said, fighting the rising sob. I took a deep breath and stared unseeing at the broken plaster wall behind him. “You’ve taken care of me, protected me, and loved me. You raised me, but you also helped Mandesa find my mother. I’m…conflicted. I’m having trouble reconciling it.”
Bendar hopped to the floor. “Understand. I know truth. Never betray you, father, Triune, or council. Die first,” he said, his voice quivering.
I wanted to tell him I believed him, but between the lies and half-truths I’d been fed all my life by those in it, I hesitated.
“Go now,” he choked out as he padded from the room.
The door clicked shut behind him and I sat there, unsure what to do. Go to Raeth and give her comfort? Find Ryder, who obsessed over Briggs saving him and his debt to Laos? Or Bendar, who had raised me because he’d betrayed my family? Who did I belong with?
You belong with me. Come, join me, Father said in the gentlest voice I’d ever heard.
Part of me wanted to chastise him for lurking in my mind, but I couldn’t. For the first time, I wanted my father’s arms around me, sheltering me, consoling me. Ok.
I’m assisting with clean-up efforts near the command station.
On my way.
Work, the perfect distraction. Maybe Father knew me better than I did myself. Honesty demanded I admit I’d always avoided my emotional turmoil through work. Focusing on something else, something greater than myself, allowed my mind to accept the truth and figure out what I wanted.
I pushed myself upright, squaring my shoulders, and strode from the office, heading for the command center. The trip was a repeat of getting to the weaponry. I crawled over downed support beams. I slid along walls, avoiding dangling live wires, and hoofed up stairs I worried would collapse beneath me.
Entering the command center hall, I discovered it, like the rest of the Arc, was a disaster. The tactical hub and home built by free Neumarians—no, that my father had built, was a mass of rubble and broken equipment. Why I’d thought it would escape unscathed, I didn’t know, except Father had been here and he could accomplish anything.
Then I spotted him, moving a large screen into a small room near the command center, and my heart broke. He looked exhausted, his commanding presence bent, deflated. No, worse than that. He seemed not just worn-out, but defeated by the betrayal of one of his officers.
A surge of adrenaline hit. Father needed me to console him, just as I needed him. Snagging a halo tablet, I raced to join my father. As I entered the room, he lowered the screen onto a shelf, turned, and pulled me into his arms, kicking the door shut with his foot.
His strong embrace held me tight and his chest heaved. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could protect you now,” he mumbled into my hair. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He kissed my head, his arms squeezing me to him tighter. His love and comfort filled me and I wrapped my arms around his waist.
Comforting, yet foreign. I thought I’d fulfilled my childhood longing for my father and his acceptance, but numbness began to creep in.
He released me and stepped back, eyeing me quizzically. “I thought we were better.”
“We are. It’s just…I’m drained. The past week or two has emotionally overloaded me. I know you said this is war and there’s no room for emotion. And I get it, up here.” I knocked a fist against my head then pressed my palm over my heart. “But not here. There’s been so much loss, and if I want to survive having to decide if a loved one lives or dies, it means I’ve gotta turn off my feelings. You were right. It’s time for me to grow up.”
Father pulled me to him again. I struggled to free myself but couldn’t. He pressed my head to him, rubbed my back, and stroked my hair. “I was wrong, Semara. If you shut off your feelings, you’ll lose your passion, be it to fight or love. Strategies and weaponry will consume you, and you’ll forget why you’re fighting. Until I saw you again, I was focused on winning
the war. Yes, I’d built a life here for my people and protected it at all costs, but the only emotion I felt was a hate-driven need for vengeance. Now, I have you and I’m able to look beyond my blinding hatred. It’s time to bring down Mandesa, but not out of revenge. It’s time to restore peace and freedom.”
Tears welled in my eyes and I blinked them away. I couldn’t keep taking emotional hits. Wrapped in my father’s embrace I knew that one day a decision I made would cost me everything I valued. But I couldn’t let the fear keep me from doing what must be done. Better to tuck any tenderness away until after we defeated Mandesa.
I lifted my head and met his gaze head-on. “Then you and we will fail.”
“You lied to me,” my father accused.
“About what?”
“You said you weren’t hurt. And maybe you weren’t physically, but you’ve been hurt and suffered over your choices, mine, Bendar’s, and everyone who’s touched you.”
Chapter Fourteen
When I left the Freedom, I rejoiced in escaping the perpetual night of crawling along the ocean floor. Yet over the past few weeks, I’d experienced something worse, neither night or day, only an endless gray fog. Now, shuffling through the underground of the Arc, I was mentally and physically exhausted. Working sometimes thirty-six hours straight, rebuilding our home, living on edge, and fearing another betrayal, had taken their toll.
My father nudged my mind, jerking me from my thoughts. He’d done this, touching my mind, often since the suicide bombing. No words, more like a mental hug to let me know he was there and cared. As much as it left me feeling loved, all I truly wanted was Ryder, to feel the soul-deep connection we’d had prior to realizing he’d lost ninety percent of his gift. While I still believed it would return, I worried he didn’t.
After checking on Penton’s condition, I headed for the makeshift infirmary. With the mess hall filled to capacity and the infirmary destroyed in the bombing, the medics had setup a temporary facility near the orphanage. As I neared Briggs’s bed, I froze. Ryder sat on the thin mattress beside her, her hand clasped between his. Their faces were so close their lips nearly touched, his attention focused solely on her. They looked like lovers.
