Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1)

by Adams, Nicholas

Swan remained silent until they reached a single door at the end of the corridor, pushing a code into an ancient-looking keypad. Matthew heard a series of beeps and a click before Swan turned to face Matthew with contempt written across his face.

  “Neither,” he answered. “It’s an Angel.”

  SIXTY-FIVE

  Matthew followed the Segregant leader, a man who had informally introduced himself as Eric Swan during his discussion on their origins, into their infirmary. The other two men followed as far as the door opening, forming a human barrier to prevent Matthew’s escape. In the middle of the dim room - lying on the exam table - was the battered body of a male Angel, exposed from head to toe except for a sparse canvas covering his hips and thighs. Matthew recoiled and stumbled into one of Swan’s men the instant he saw the Angel’s bruised and lacerated flesh. Something so innocent, so lovely, suffering such torture…words failed to express his shock and sorrow.

  The most disconcerting feature of the Angel’s face was not the swelling or discoloration. The smile, that perfect and Angelic smile amidst all the signs of abuse filled Matthew’s heart with grief. The expressionless eyes were fixed in a blank stare toward the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.

  Matthew took a deep, bracing breath before he turned around to face Swan. “I’ll examine him, but only if I’m alone in the room. You and your men must leave.” He cast his eyes at the scowling men, reading the distrust in their eyes, all of which zeroed in on him.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “but I don’t want anyone or anything interfering with my examination.”

  Eric Swan was a large man and he towered over Matthew, folding his arms and staring down at the challenging scientist. Eric gave Matthew a menacing scowl, but Matthew was not intimidated or deterred. He had come too far and had faced too many obstacles to let this stranger sway his convictions.

  Matthew’s resolve won out. Eric narrowed his eyes and whispered, “Fine. We’ll leave you to it, doctor.” With a silent look of his coal-dark eyes, his cohorts trooped out of the room. Eric shut the door as he followed them out.

  With the Segregants gone, Matthew let out a breath of relief. He hefted his case of equipment onto the table and opened it, careful to retrieve his delicate tools and lining them up on the table next to the Angel’s body. He pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and a filtered mask with an attached eye shield. With a tap to his temple, LED lights on either side of the strap holding the mask onto his head lit up the room. An apron, wadded into a ball, happened to be in a corner of the infirmary. Matthew held it up and scrutinized the stains under the faint bulb hanging from the ceiling. The apron was soiled and probably filthier than Matthew cared to consider. He shook his head at himself and tied the apron about his waist. It would just have to do.

  Matthew stepped up to the side of the table and looked upon the still figure before him.

  “Can you hear me?” he asked. “I’m just going to examine you. I’m not going to hurt you. Is that alright?” he raised his voice louder. The Angel neither stirred nor spoke.

  Matthew grabbed the Angel’s hand and placed two fingers against the wrist.

  “Surprising,” he murmured to himself. “Strong and steady pulse. It looks like you’ve taken quite the beating. I was not expecting something quite so robust.”

  Matthew walked around the table three times, performing a visual assessment of his battered patient. The Angel’s expression disconcerted Matthew as he stared into space and smiled at nothing. On his third pass, he noticed the small puddle of red on the table beneath the Angel’s head. Matthew adjusted his goggles and leaned in closer, confirming a spot of dried blood below the Angel’s matted hair.

  Matthew reached out his gentle hands and rolled the Angel’s head to the side to get a better look, and what he saw made his stomach lurch. Instead of a rounded cranium covered with white hair, he found the back of the Angel’s skull caved in and fractured, much like the smashed shell of a hard-boiled egg.

  His eyes grew wide and he stepped back from the table. Although his specialty was in organ transplants, he knew a fatal head injury when he saw it. He removed the portable scanner from his case and began running a deep tissue scan of the Angel’s head.

  He had never had the opportunity to scan an Angel before. Protocols dictated only their own healers in the nearest Cathedral treated them. However, he was not on Olympus right now, and his curiosity and compulsion to help a living being overruled his respect for the unresponsive Angel’s beliefs. The readings began popping up on the screen, making Matthew curse under his breath.

  “This can’t be right!” He reset the scanner and passed it over the Angel again.

  “Impossible!” he cried. He wondered if the scanner had been damaged in the transport. Shutting off the power, he reset it once again and passed it over his own skull to be sure. The scan came back normal. A third pass of the scanner across the Angel’s head revealed results identical to the first two times.

  Matthew was bewildered at what the scan detected, or rather, what it did not detect.

  He was able to discern the skull, muscles, and skin of the Angel’s head. He recognized the brain stem and spinal cord, but what filled the rest of the brain cavity was the most baffling scientific discovery he had ever made. Where the cerebrum and cerebellum should be within the skull he found an unrecognizable mass resembling, for lack of better imagery, a bird’s nest.

  He rushed to the door to the lab and flung it open.

  “I need to speak with Mr. Swan, please. It’s urgent!”

  The men loitering outside the lab relayed the request for Eric down the hallway. Moments later Swan came bursting out of the barracks. He stormed up to the door of the lab, which Matthew was blocking with his body.

  “What is it, Doc?” he grumbled. Swan had changed into the underlining of an environmental suit and Matthew realized he must have been preparing to enter the mines, and he looked none too pleased for the interruption.

  “There is something I need you to look at,” Matthew said, keeping his voice low and steady. He stepped aside so Swan could enter the lab. Matthew closed and locked the door behind them.

  Swan eyed the locked doorknob with a wary glance, and then looked at Matthew. “You said this was urgent? Well, get on with it.” Matthew motioned for Swan to approach the examination table.

  “I’ve encountered something I’ve never seen before, something I’ve never even heard of before. And, quite frankly, I wanted another pair of eyes to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.”

  Matthew passed the scanner to Swan.

  “What am I supposed to be looking at?” he asked, eying the device with disinterest.

  “It’s his brain scan,” Matthew answered. “It’s a picture of the inside of his head.”

  Swan’s mouth turned down in new interest. “So, that’s what a brain looks like, huh? I never finished my secondary education back in the LTZ,” he said, tilting his head as he examined the display, “but I thought I remember the brain looking like, well, more like a brain. This just looks like the chicken scratches in the dirt.” He gave up making sense of the image and tried handing the scanner back to Matthew.

  “Exactly, Swan!” he said, snatching the scanner from Eric’s hands. “You are exactly right! This is not what a brain looks like at all, not in a Human or any other living creature on our planet.” Matthew’s fingers frantically swiped at the scanner display, and then he shoved it back into Eric’s hands.

  “This,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is a scan of my brain taken just moments ago.” Swan’s eyes followed Matthew’s finger around the screen as he talked. “This is the brain stem. This is the spinal cord. This is the cerebellum. And this is the cerebrum, where higher functioning occurs.”

  Eric tilted his head again, earnestly concentrating on the image on the scanner. Matthew took a deep and patient sigh, waiting for him to make the connection.

  “My brain,” Matthew said, and then he swiped the screen w
ith his finger. “The Angel’s brain.” Swipe. “Mine, the Angel’s, mine….”

  Swan sighed, and then his eyes lit up.

  “They’re nothing alike. How strange. Well, Doc, maybe Angels and Humans are just different. Why is this such an emergency?” Matthew stared back at him with wild desperation across his features.

  “No, Swan, you don’t understand. Every animal we know of that has the capacity for any level of reasoning has a developed cerebrum and cerebellum.” He changed the display settings on the scanner to show his and the Angel’s scans side-by-side. “From what I see in these scans, the Angel on that table ought to be incapable of speech, thought, emotions… anything that makes him able to interact with the world around him. This scan tells me his neural development would inhibit him from doing anything more than convert oxygen to carbon dioxide. He shouldn’t even be able to feed himself, let alone walk around, use tools, operate consoles and machinery, or carry on a conversation!”

  Swan held up his hands. “But Doc, I brought this guy here and he could do all the things you said he can’t do. I’ve known plenty of Angels in my day, and they all can do those things you say are impossible.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” Matthew answered. “But according to this scan,” he said, pointing to the image, “there’s no way that should be physiologically possible.”

  Matthew and Swan stared at each other, each of them trying to make sense of the images on the scanner. Matthew walked over to the table and placed the scanner down next to the Angel’s head.

  “What are you doing there, Doc?”

  “I’m changing the settings to continual scan. I want to investigate an idea I have.” Matthew then picked up a probe and placed it on various parts of the Angel’s body as he monitored the feedback on the screen. “I need you to answer honestly, Swan. What’s changed from the time you brought him here until now?”

  Swan uncrossed his arms, shuffled his feet, and turned his body away from the table. “There was an accident.” His voice was as cold and hard as ice.

  “An accident?” Matthew said. “This man was tortured.”

  Swan’s body was a blur as he spun around to face Matthew.

  “HE’S NOT A MAN!” he roared. His breathing was heavy and he bent his knees as if he was readying himself for a brawl. Matthew had been so startled by the outburst he dropped his probe onto the Angel’s arm.

  Matthew took a breath to steady himself. He knew he was no physical match against Swan.

  “Angel, Human, or otherwise,” he said with a calm and steady tone, “every sentient being has rights, no matter where they come from.”

  Swan opened his mouth to dispute Matthew’s claims when the scanner started blinking lights and emitting a shrill series of beeps that drew both men’s attention. Matthew rushed to the display to see what had caused the ruckus.

  The image on the scanner showed increased activity in the brain stem that rose and erupted into a rolling cloud pattern.

  Matthew lifted his probe and the beeping and flashing ceased.

  Swan’s chest was still heaving from his outburst, but he was curious about the perplexed look on Matthew’s face.

  “What was that, Doc?” he said, breathless.

  Matthew was too distracted with his own questions to answer. He thought the sudden spike in brain activity must have been a glitch. He placed the probe back down on the Angel’s torso as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples under the shield. The ear-piercing din erupted again, lights flashing around the display. Matthew scooped the probe up in his hand to silence the machine.

  “Do that again!” Swan blurted out. Matthew’s head whipped up.

  “Do what again?” he barked with a clear edge in his voice.

  “Touch his skin with that thing!” Swan shouted, pointing to the probe in Matthew’s hand. Matthew slowly extended his arm and rested the probe on a random spot on the Angel’s torso. The scanner beeped and another cloud of light flickered on the display.

  Swan let out a gasp and took a cautious step toward the table.

  “No way. Can it be…?”

  “Can what be what?” Matthew asked as his eyes darted between the scanner and Swan’s face. Swan’s face was alight, almost manic with enthusiasm.

  Swan walked over to the table and picked up the scanner. “Do it again,” he commanded. “Poke him, again!”

  Matthew grimaced.

  “For the record,” he said as he held up the probe to Swan’s face, “I’m not poking him! This is an electromagnetic probe designed to stimulate nerve endings and help track neural pathways.”

  Swan waved away Matthew’s complaint. “Whatever! Just keep touching him with it. I want to see something.” His eyes were fixated on the display as Matthew continued to probe various parts of the Angel’s body. After several minutes, Swan turned his attention away from the scanner and looked at Matthew.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was an AI network node,” he said in awe. “I haven’t seen anything like this though. It’s much more advanced than the ones I used to work on.”

  Matthew furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

  “I used to be an AI engineer in the LTZ,” Swan explained. “I worked on the maglev operating systems.” Matthew had never thought about how the automated trains functioned. He had always assumed a centralized control system was responsible for running the trains. But, the idea of an AI managing the trains caught him off-guard.

  “I think we need to take a look inside,” Swan suggested, and Matthew recoiled.

  “It’s unthinkable to open up a person’s body without their consent!” he cried. “Absolutely not!”

  Swan put down the scanner and turned to face Matthew.

  “You just told me that he should have no capacity for higher function, right?” Matthew listened, giving the larger man a cautious nod. Swan picked up momentum.

  “If he’s a vegetable, then he can’t offer consent. Someone else has to make the decision.”

  Matthew rolled his eyes, seeing where Swan’s argument was heading. Swan continued.

  “So, I’m making the decision for him.”

  Matthew stepped away from the table with his hands in front of him.

  “No!” he said. “I can’t. I can’t justify it. Not even for scientific curiosity.” He turned and started for the door.

  Swan moved fast, cutting Matthew off just as he reached for the doorknob.

  “You will do it, Doc,” he whispered, “or you and your crew will not leave this moon alive.”

  Matthew stopped in his tracks and he saw Elizabeth and Evangeline in his mind. Then he saw the faces of the men and women of the freighter crew. They likely all had families in Olympus, just as he did. Their blood would be on his hands, and the grief inflicted by such a loss would be beyond comprehension.

  He turned to look Swan in the eyes. The man’s countenance was like ice. Matthew stared into Swan’s unblinking gaze and saw the fierce determination to keep his own people safe from anyone and anything that dared to threaten their security.

  Matthew let out a defeated breath. “I’ll need to sedate him before I make an opening in his skull.” He could hardly believe these words were coming from his own mouth. The perils of the expedition had cast all reason from his mind.

  “I’ll need additional help to do this,” Matthew added in a somber tone. “I’m going to need the medic from the freighter and anyone else with medical background among your people.”

  Matthew recruited the help of the freighter’s medic and a Segregant with a veterinary background, a man named Humphries. Matthew administered a sedative to the already still body. When the Angel’s empty eyes closed, they turned him onto his stomach and started shaving the back of his caved-in head.

  Swan hovered about the operating table, trying to keep out of the way yet eager to witness everything first-hand. Matthew had to concede to this request to be present during the procedure, despite Swan’s complete lack of medical backgroun
d. Swan was the only reason Matthew and the crew had been permitted to live after their arrival on the moon, and if what they found in the Angel’s head was AI related, then Swan possessed the expertise necessary to understand what they were looking at.

  Matthew had found an old scalpel, which was an outdated tool as he was accustomed to using lasers whenever he needed to operate. Matthew was still uncertain how he should proceed once he got to the skull. All he could do was take it one-step at a time and hope he could explore the Angel’s head and keep Swan satisfied all at the same time.

  The scalpel sliced through the flesh at the back of the head and Matthew peeled it away with great tenderness. He supposed after discovering that there was no brain within the Angel’s skull that nothing else he would encounter on the moon would be quite as astonishing.

  Matthew noted that beneath the white peels of flesh, the Angel looked just like any other patient that had come though his operating suite. Blood vessels of red and blue danced along the inner surface of the skin like rivers on a globe. The skull bones, to Matthew’s surprise, had the same yellowish hue as his human patients. “It seems bones are bones, no matter what galaxy you’re from,” he said to the medic. The young man, however, seemed to be too engrossed in the live-or-die procedure to focus on anything else.

  “Would you irrigate the area, please?” Matthew asked Humphries, seeing that the freighter medic was useless in his own world.

  The older man held up a small hose and shot warm, sterilized water across the bare skull. As the pink rain dripped away from between the bone and the stretched scalp, Matthew noticed something out of place. He leaned in closer to get a better look.

  “What the hell is this?” he whispered to himself.

  “What do you see?” Swan asked, sensing that something unusual had happened. He was shifting around the heads of the men to get a better look.

  Matthew cleared his throat. “Well, I’m not sure. But, I believe I have found a false skull plate. It looks like it’s made of a synthetic polymer, and allows access to the inside of the cranium through what should be his occipital bone.”