Testing his will, I pulled up a chair and sat in front of his bed.
“What do you want?” he demanded not a minute later.
“How would you like to punch me in the face?”
Yahweh looked at me, the animosity in his eyes fading to confusion.
“I’m serious,” I said, grinning. “I’ll give you a free shot.”
“That’s how Nehelians solve their problems, not angels.”
“Oh come on, I know you want to.”
He only looked back at his book, ignoring me.
I sighed. “I wouldn’t have done it, you know.”
“Done what?” he murmured, turning a page.
“I… wouldn’t have killed you. You’re too important to us.”
“You cut my face and pulled my hair so hard that I still have a headache. The level of disgrace I was subjected to yesterday night made me hope that you’d kill me. Your confession is invalid.”
Alright, I’d tried. “This doesn’t change anything. We’re still coming for you tomorrow—”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Please leave.”
Nodding, I headed for the door. As I grabbed the handle, he added, “And I think you should stop visiting me unless it pertains to our project. We can sit here and play chess all day long, but in the end I’m an angel and you’re a Nehelian. I can’t be kind to someone who might barge into my room in the middle of the night and torture me again.”
I kept my back to him, feeling the sting of his words like little daggers. “That’s perfectly fine with me, white.”
I left his room without looking back.
XX
FRAIL
“NO, STOP,” sighed Leid. “Your fingers are too tense.”
Playing the violin was a lot harder than firing a gun. “I thought it sounded fine.”
“Of course you did. You’re a novice.”
I chose to keep my mouth shut. It was ten thirty at night and I’d agreed to practice in hope of easing my stress. Big mistake. I had only been playing the violin for a little over a month, and thought I was doing pretty well given the amount of time. But not Leid. She rode my ass like I was the laziest piece of shit ever.
“You need to make your fingers looser. Let them glide over the strings.”
“I don’t have dainty little girl fingers like you.”
Leid giggled. “Dainty girl fingers? Is that what you call them?”
“Yes.”
She stood and placed her cello aside, leaning over me. “Here,” she murmured, “like this.” Her hand encased mine and she guided my fingers across the board. Each time my knuckles tensed she lifted them, until they bent impossibly. “You need to make them elastic. Loose fingers allow for better gliding.”
I tried to grab her but she slipped away, scowling.
“Take this seriously.”
“This isn’t helping my stress, but I have another idea,” I said with a grin.
She ignored me, moving to her satchel. I’d bought her one a couple of days ago so she’d stop carrying around my briefcase. I hadn’t seen her without it since. She turned around and smiled, holding up a bunch of sheets.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A song I’ve been writing.”
“Really?”
Leid nodded, placing it on my music stand. I looked it over. “Think my stiff fingers can handle it?”
“Maybe.”
“Play it for me.”
She retreated to the stool, not even bothering to take her sheets. Tucking the cello between her legs, Leid began to play.
The song was sad; beautiful, but sad. The despondence floated around the room, painting everything in shades of grey. I watched her, discomforted by how much the music moved me.
When she stopped, I asked, “What is that song about?”
“Us.”
Us? A song that sad was about us?
She caught the look on my face, her brows creasing with worry. “You don’t like it?”
“What do you want me to do?”
That question caught her off guard. She only stared at me.
“How can I make you happier? If that song is about us, then I’m concerned.”
Leid glanced away, sullen. “I’m sorry. I’ll write us a better song.”
“It’s not the song!” I rasped. “It’s you! It’s that storm cloud you carry over your head! Have I done something?”
“It’s not you,” she almost whispered. “It’s never been you. Please, don’t think that.”
I sighed and got to my feet, turning from her. Running a hand through my hair, I tried to think of a way to get her to tell me what was wrong. I couldn’t think of anything. I wasn’t good at this kind of shit.
And then Leid hugged me from behind, arms curling across my stomach. I felt the warmth of her cheek as she laid it against my back. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
My frustration faded. “I’m not upset.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” I just wanted to know about her. “I need to go.”
“Where?”
“I forgot about an errand. Can you wait in my room until I get there? I should only be a couple of minutes.”
She nodded.
I squeezed her hand and then departed for the hall, heading in the direction of the Commons.
***
The angels were familiar with the Court of Enigmus, and on more than one occasion Yahweh had hinted that he knew about Leid in ways that I didn’t. It was time for him to shed some light on the subject. After our last chat, I was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to talk, but I was prepared to do some heavy stepping.
As his room came into view, I spotted Lt. Narish Ketar pacing in front of it. It was long past the end of his shift, and my suspicion spiked ten-fold when our eyes met and his face twisted with fear. He stopped pacing, now still as a statue.
“What are you doing here, Lieutenant?”
As he fumbled with a response, I glanced at Yahweh’s door. Lt. Ketar was one of the few enforcers who knew the access code to the electronic lock, as he was tasked with bringing the kid meals every other day. The lock was deactivated.
“Wait,” Ketar gasped. “Wait, sir, before you—”
I threw open the door.
The room was decorated in blood splatter; across the walls, the bed sheets, the torn pages of books scattered along the floor. Yahweh lay in the middle of the room, curled into a fetal position as two enforcers stomped him to death. I couldn’t tell if he was conscious.
I lunged into the fray and shoved them off. They staggered back, shocked at the sight of me. I punched the closest soldier in the face, and several teeth flew from his mouth as he hit the ground. The other tried to run, but I ripped out my gun and shot him in the back of the head before he could make it to the hall. He collapsed in the doorway, bleeding out.
Lt. Ketar was still right where I’d left him, staring numbly at his comrade’s body. I stepped over it, gun shaking at my side.
“Did you let them in?”
Ketar backed up, raising his hands. “Sir, I—”
“That was a yes or no question, Lieutenant.”
“They lost their families at the ceremony!” he shouted.
“DID YOU LET THEM IN?!”
Ketar’s back was to the wall. “Yes! Yes, I let them in! I’m sorry! Sir, I’m sorry!”
With a snarl, I grabbed his coat and pulled him inches from my face. His eyes widened and his mouth contorted into a scream. But before he could make a sound, his head erupted. Chunks of bloody brain matter painted the hall.
I released Ketar and returned to Yahweh’s room, kneeling at his side. He was face-down and static. I reached toward him with a shaking hand, afraid to see the damage. But then he coughed.
I rolled him over and put a hand over my mouth. His face was unrecognizable, swollen and battered. Yahweh’s nose was crushed, and both of his ears were bleeding. His eyes were welted shut by massive bruising, and many of his fingers
were broken, pointing in impossible directions.
Nausea exploded up my throat, but I staved it back.
“Kid,” I whispered. “Can you hear me?”
He didn’t respond and only struggled to breathe. Each breath was a haggard, wet gasp. His head rolled to the side, resting against my knee.
“Leid!” I screamed to the vacant hall, hoping that she’d somehow hear me. “Leid, Leid, LEID!”
Coming to my senses, I reached for the radio on the dead enforcer’s belt. “Eroqam Communications, come in. This is Regent Qaira Eltruan, requesting immediate medical support in the Commons, room 24E.”
“We are contacting Eroqam Medical Facility, sir. Stand by.”
Leid appeared in the doorway, looking around the room and then out into the hall. Her face was blank with surprise, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her gaze stopped on the corpse at her feet. “What happened?”
“What does it look like?!” I exclaimed. “You need to help him! He’s dying!”
Leid knelt beside me, gently placing her hands on Yahweh’s chest. “A few of his ribs are broken. I can feel them rattling.” She leaned down and put an ear over his mouth, dread filling up her eyes when she heard the gurgling. “He has massive internal bleeding. He’s drowning in his own blood.”
“Eroqam, I need that medical support yesterday!”
“A team has just been dispatched and is on the way, sir.”
I tossed the radio on the bed as Leid rolled Yahweh onto his side. “That should help him breathe easier,” she said.
I paced in front of them, muttering obscenities.
“Qaira, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. There’s too much trauma. This is really, really bad.”
“You have to fix him,” I ordered through my teeth.
“How? I can’t—”
“FIX HIM!”
Leid jumped, looking up at me with a desperate wince. Then, her face calmed with revelation. “Give me a pen.”
I had no idea why she wanted a pen, but I slipped one from my breast pocket and Leid snatched it from my hand. She disassembled it, all the way down to the hollow tube. And then to my horror, she plunged it into Yahweh’s neck, right between his clavicles.
Blood spurted out of it, splashing all over her dress. The kid’s chest heaved and he gasped for air.
As I stood there, stunned, she reached for me again. “I need another pen.”
I cringed. “What are you going to do with—”
“Qaira, no time. You wanted me to help so I’m helping. Now give me another fucking pen, please.”
Reluctantly, I handed her another. This time she plunged it into his back, between his shoulder blades. More blood, but Yahweh’s breathing stabilized despite the quickly expanding pool of blood beneath him.
“Is… is he okay?” I stammered.
“He can breathe, but now he’s bleeding to death.”
“Where the fuck is that medical team?!” I screamed at no one.
“Yahweh will need a transfusion.”
“What, blood? We don’t have any other angels to donate!”
Leid said nothing, staring sadly at the boy. I sank to his bed, holding my face.
“I have to tell Raith. He’s the only one who can save him.”
“No,” she snapped. “You’re not telling him anything.”
“But how else are we supposed to—?”
“Get to the Communications room and jam Crylle lines. Send for that other physician, Namah Ipsin. Tell him to bring lots and lots of Archaean blood.”
I bolted from the room, sprinting through the Commons. I was thankful that Leid had a plan, because if Yahweh Telei died, everything was over. I burst through the Northern Wing, feet pounding across the empty hall—;
And then I realized that I had never told her Namah’s full name.
XXI
BLOOD TIES
NAMAH FILLED A SYRINGE WITH PAIN medication, glancing at Yahweh laid out on the hospital bed. I’d expected the angel doctor to be horrified by the sight of him, but he didn’t even bat an eye. As he administered the syringe into the IV, he shot me a disdainful look. It was the most expression that I’d seen on him all morning.
“How skilled are your surgeons?” he asked. “I’m going to have to get inside and stop the bleeding soon.”
“I don’t know. I’m not a surgeon so I can’t make a comparison.”
Namah didn’t respond, watching Yahweh stir. The kid was pale(r) and his face was still lumpy, but at least the staff had cleaned up all the blood. “Regent, I’m going to do everything that I can for him, but I’d like you to know that there’s a very good chance he won’t survive this.”
I glanced at my feet, saying nothing.
“How sad you look,” he said, a little surprised. “I don’t understand why. Yahweh Telei is the son of your arch enemy. He’s just another white, isn’t he?”
My jaw clenched. “Keep talking and you’ll be lying right next to him.”
“Did you do it?”
“Of course not.”
Namah smiled, thinly. “Then I’ll consider your threat empty.”
Wow, this guy had a lot of nerve. Maybe I should have told him what I’d done to Yahweh’s assaulters. But that would be gloating, and killing my own men wasn’t something to gloat about.
“Let’s talk about the problem,” he began, taking a seat in a chair across the room. He was looking through a collection of files that one of our doctors had given him. “All the blood I’ve brought doesn’t match Yahweh’s type.”
“Meaning?”
“I can’t use any of it for a transfusion. It will induce an immune response that’ll kill him.”
“You brought several types with you. None of them match his?”
“His type is rare. Only two percent of us carry it. And I’m sure the number is smaller now that there are hardly any of us left.” Another thin smile. Dr. Ipsin’s jabs were calculated.
“What about his family? They’d have the same blood as him, right?”
“Not necessarily, and Commander Raith isn’t—”
“I know.”
Namah arched his brows. “He told you?”
“He never stops talking.”
The angel physician glanced at Yahweh. “Interesting. His biological father is a general. Sending for him would alert Lucifer, and I’m sure you don’t want that.”
“Siblings?”
Namah hesitated. “His brother is no longer with us. At this point I can only make Yahweh comfortable.”
I hung my head. “Then go ahead and tell Lucifer that—”
“No,” said a voice from the door. Leid. “There’s another way.”
“I told you not to come here,” I whispered, glancing at Namah.
Neither of them looked at me. They were too busy looking at each other. After what seemed like eternity, the angel said, “Suddenly everything makes sense. I wasn’t aware that the Court of Enigmus held stock in The Atrium. I’m sure Lucifer would find that very fascinating.”
Leid smiled. “Lucifer Raith won’t find out, if you value your head.”
Namah crossed his arms. “How is Ixiah?”
“Can’t say. You’d have to ask his noble.” Before this confusing exchange could continue, Leid said, “Test Yahweh’s blood against Qaira’s.”
The angel tilted his head. “You want me to run a cross match between an Archaean and Nehelian? Must I explain immunology to you, too?”
“Nehelian and Archaean genomes differ by one percent. Nehelian blood contains a mutagen factor that might be undetectable during a transfusion.”
“… And you know that how?”
“Because I’m a scholar.”
Meanwhile I just sat there, blinking at them.
“Ah, I forgot all about Vel’Haru arrogance.”
“Test the blood.”
Namah pricked my finger, collecting several droplets of blood into a tiny vial. Without another word, he vacated the ro
om.
“You two know each other,” I said.
“Not really. He knows another scholar. I know of him, and he of me.”
I frowned. “If the Court of Enigmus is so friendly with the angels, why did they send you to help us fight them?”
“Not all of us are friendly with the angels. It’s hard to explain, but we uphold the discipline of neutral conduct. Our feelings are removed from our jobs.”
“Are they?” I asked, and she looked at me knowingly.
Then, she smiled. “How are you feeling? You look tired.”
Boy, was that an understatement. My exhausted gaze settled on Yahweh’s vital machine. Judging by the readings, his pulse was getting weaker by the minute. The repetitive beep beep beep and flashing lights hypnotized me, and it was a long time before I said, “I’m fine.”
Which was a lie, considering it was five in the morning and I hadn’t gotten any sleep. In an hour and a half I was expected to meet with the Board of Commerce.
“I’m going to get some coffee,” Leid announced, heading for the door. “Would you like any?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Right before she left, I grabbed her arm. She froze.
“How do you know about our genome?” I asked.
“I’ve been doing a lot of reading, if you haven’t noticed.”
I had. There was always a science periodical at the dinner table with her.
“Scholars are scientists. Many of us have fields in which we specialize.”
“I thought you were a war tactician.”
“I am, but my scientific field is biochemistry. Coffee, remember?”
I let go of her, and Leid disappeared into the hall.
… A biochemist war tactician. Fun.
No longer able to keep my eyes open, I closed them and reclined in the chair. I must have fallen asleep for a second, because the next thing I knew Namah was exclaiming, “I don’t believe this!”
Startled, I nearly fell out of my seat. “W-What?”
He held the report up to my face, pointing at it. “You’re a match!”
Namah almost sounded angry.
Suddenly, a white cup floated in front of my face. Leid was holding the steaming coffee over my head and I took it, nodding thanks.
The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy Page 39
