Knight

by Ella Young

  Ji wrinkled her nose. "That's not a very good story then."

  "Oh really?" Knight said. "And how would you end this one?"

  Ji didn't hesitate. "The pastoralist returns and kills the beast, and the townspeople aren't dead. They beg her forgiveness. And she lives happily ever after with her livestock."

  “That's not very realistic.”

  "It's not about being realistic," Ji explained. "Besides, there can be happy endings in real life too."

  Knight's face was unreadable as she turned away. Ayla, now realizing whatever other stories Knight had were not what Ji needed, found her voice and carried on telling stories with happy endings—of princesses in castles, and knights in shining armor—and Taz, who seemed to be far more optimistic than Knight, picked it up as best as xe could when Ayla couldn't get the words out.

  Ji did her best to stay awake, fearing that if she fell asleep, she might never rouse again. But she only had the strength to fight for so long. As Ayla and Taz told stories, she drifted off into a deep slumber.

  -~-~-~-

  After the trio realized Ji had fallen asleep, they lapsed into silence. The steady beeping of the heart monitor hung between them, each pulse sounding more and more like a nail in Ji's coffin.

  As the night progressed Knight caught sight of Ayla's lips moving silently. Knight easily recognized the words she formed. She knew the names of the Divari well enough. Ayla was praying.

  This didn't sit right with Knight, having long ago written off the stars as cold and distant. There was no benevolent force looking down on the Cradle, guiding and caring for its inhabitants. Too much had happened in Knight's life for her to believe otherwise. Too much death, too much war, too much injustice. Too little good. Starless sickness had claimed too many lives, divided too many others. The Divari, if they existed, were cruel masters. They would not help a mere human.

  "Why do you pray?" Knight asked, breaking the silence. Ji didn't stir against her, but Ayla lifted her head. Taz cast a warning glance Knight's way. Xe knew what was coming. Taz was not the most devout, but xe certainly revered Them. Knight and Taz had had their fair share of clashes. Now isn't the time, xe seemed to say.

  Ayla sniffed. "Because what else can I do?" she asked. Her eyes fell to Ji, breathing shallowly.. "If anyone can save her now, it would be the Divari."

  "But what if there's no one watching out for us?" Knight pressed. Ayla looked taken aback.

  "Of course there's someone looking out for us. How could you think otherwise?"

  Easily, Knight thought. "I've lost too many people to believe in them. If there is someone out there, They wouldn't allow this—" Knight glanced down at Ji, asleep in her lap, “—to happen. They just wouldn't."

  "That's not how it works," Ayla said. She pressed a hand to the glass, her eyes on Ji as well. Ayla looked suddenly exhausted, suddenly spent. "My parents died when Nero and I were younger. For years I wondered how any loving deity could allow such good people to die. It was in this time I actually grew closer to Them. It became a comfort to know that my parents were at peace, away from the war. Away from the suffering. They hadn't simply allowed our parents to die, They had chosen them. They decided our parents had suffered enough."

  "But what gives them the right? To decide that?" Knight wasn't accusing, wasn't trying to start a fight. She sincerely, genuinely, wanted to know. If that was the case, hadn't Toshi suffered enough? What had she done to deserve the punishment she'd gotten?

  "They gave us this place to live in. We could leave, if we wanted. Forsake them. But we don't. We make of this Cradle what we will. And sometimes we get it very, very wrong. For the things the Hegemony has done, They have every right to turn from us. But They will never abandon us completely. They will always provide a way back to Them."

  Everything Ayla said fell in line with what Ulahim had told her about Them shutting their eyes to the Cradle. Knight thought back to her mentor saying Edaui could open the signumaria. Unbidden, a thought occurred to her. Was she the reason they'd turned from the Cradle? Was this suffering her fault, for not serving Them as They’d seen fit? She felt ill, looking at Ji. Had she caused this?

  As they'd talked, Ji’s breathing had grown shallower. Raspier. They fell silent once more, listening to the heart monitor as her heartbeat grew slower and slower.

  Around two in the morning, it stopped.

  Ayla's head dropped into her hands, but she didn't make a sound. Tears fell silently from her eyes and she shuddered in grief. Taz, ever the comforter, rested xer paw on her knee and closed xer eyes. Knight stared at the ground, arms still resting protectively around Ji's shoulders, willing the heartbeat to pick back up. The sound of the flatline was grating, irritating. Her hands flexed on her friend's shoulders and she gritted her teeth. And she prayed.

  It was not a reverent prayer, nor was it filled with any useless platitudes. It was harsh, angry, biting. Accusing. Ayla could have her flowery faith in the Divari. Knight knew only anger. And she'd known only anger for nearly half her life. She shouted at them internally, begged Them to do something right for once in her miserable life. End the suffering, and bring Ji back to them. Knight threw all these words skyward, and she waited for a response.

  On the bio monitor, Ji's heartbeat picked back up.

  Ayla's breath hitched and her head jerked up, staring with shock, and something that looked an awful lot like hope, in her eyes. Taz, too, jerked in surprise as the monitor came back to life. Knight didn't dare move, afraid that one wrong move would affect Ji, but she let out her breath. Something told her that Someone, somewhere, had been listening.

  "That's impossible," Taz said. Ayla was on her knees suddenly, pressing both hands to the glass.

  "Ji?" she called. The other stirred against Knight's knees…and then she opened her eyes.

  Ayla laughed, a hysterical sound. A grin split her face. "You're okay! Thank Ichari, you're okay." Her voice broke.

  "Am I?" Ji asked groggily, turning her face to look up at Knight. Knight glanced from Ji to the heart monitor, still in too much shock to register that this was actually happening. "I feel weird."

  "'Course you do," Knight said. Ji put an arm underneath herself to support her body. "You died."

  "I did?" Ji looked at Ayla. Tears were streaming down her girlfriend's face. Ji frowned. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay."

  "Yeah," Ayla said through her tears. "Yeah you are."

  Knight took Ji's vitals, just to be sure the Ji had truly beaten the virus. Her heartbeat was strong, her temperature normal. It was utterly, amazingly, impossible.

  "I have to call Ulahim," Knight said.

  "No," Ji put a hand on Knight's arm. "I need to get to Toshi. Now."

  Knight deliberated, and then nodded. Toshi was still at death's door. She took precedence. Knight wasn't going to argue. "Go to her. I'll call Ulahim. Can you stand?"

  Ji got to her feet, but nearly collapsed. Knight caught her before she hit the floor. Ji still wasn't one hundred percent after the long night. That would take time.

  "Ayla can help me. I'm not contagious now anymore, am I?"

  Knight shook her head. "You shouldn't be." But then a thought hit her, and Knight finally smiled. "But even if you are, you can cure it now.”

  With Knight's help, Ji staggered to the door. It slid open into the decon chamber. Ayla took Ji, supporting the weight of her girlfriend on her slight frame.

  "Hurry," Knight urged, and the girls nodded. With Taz leading the way, they hobbled out of the lab to Toshi's room.

  -~-~-~-

  The walk felt long. As they went, Ji gradually felt her strength returning and was finally able to stand on her own. Without Ayla needing to support her, they could also move faster. Ulahim was not there waiting for them when they arrived at the intake desk. Instead, a nurse raised xer head. Xe frowned at the humans and equina before xer.

  "Who's hurt?" xe asked.

  "No one," Ayla said, at the same time Ji called her Luminance.

  "T
here's an aquarin here. I need to see her."

  The nurse shook xer head, seemingly unfazed by the Luminant human. "I'm sorry, she's in no condition to receive visitors—"

  "I can heal her," Ji bounced on the balls of her feet. Every minute they spent away from Toshi was another minute closer to her death.

  "Luminants can't cure starless sickness."

  "I can. Let me try," Ji pleaded. The equina huffed, but relented.

  "Only she is allowed back. You," xe motioned to Ayla and Taz, "will stay put."

  Ayla and Taz obediently stepped back.

  "This way," the nurse said, leading Ji deeper into the sanctuary.

  The frigate had not been equipped to handle starless sickness patients, Ji remembered. The room they were led to was clearly thrown together with haste. Clear plastic sheets served to seal it off as much as was possible from the outside. Inside, portable immune lamps had been erected, bathing the three people inside with sterilizing light. The nurse paused at the threshold.

  "I'm allowed no further without a hazmat suit."

  "We don't have time for that," Ji insisted, and brushed past the equina. The nurse made to protest, but Ji was already pushing through the plastic sheets and opening the door to the room beyond.

  The three patients were in a bad way. A levian, an equina, and Toshi were barely clinging to life. Ji hadn't been a moment too soon. Ji crossed the room to stand at Toshi's bedside. The girl shivered from her fever, breathing shallowly.

  Please, Ji prayed to whoever might be listening, please let this work.

  Outside the room, Ji caught sight of Knight and Ulahim arriving. The priest looked…hopeful.

  Ji laid her hands on Toshi and called her Luminance.

  She'd never healed a sickness before but figured it couldn't be much different from healing a wound. The Luminance sank deep into the aquarin's skin, spreading across it like blue fire until it appeared as though Toshi was glowing from within. However, other than the cerulean flame, nothing appeared to happen. Ji’s breath caught. Had she been wrong?

  But then, color started returning to the aquarin's skin. Slowly at first, then more rapidly. Her breaths grew deeper. On the monitor, her thready heartbeat stabilized into something strong and healthy. Ji pulled her hands away, vanishing the mist, and waited.

  Everyone in attendance held their breath.

  Toshi opened her eyes.

  Ji let out a cry of joy and leaned down to hug her friend. Toshi returned it, holding tight to Ji.

  "Why are we hugging?" she asked, confused. Ji pulled back, tilting her head.

  "Because you're alive. And you're better."

  "I am?" Toshi paused, taking stock. And then her six eyes widened. "I am!"

  Ji laughed. She looked up at Knight, who was grinning from ear to ear, and Ulahim, whose jaw was hanging open.

  "You did it, Ji," Toshi said, then glanced over Ji's shoulder to the other two starless sickness patients. "You should heal them, too."

  "Right," Ji said, and bounced to the other two bedsides. She was still weak from her ordeal, and healing the other two patients had her wobbling on her feet. Somehow Knight was beside her again, offering a shoulder to lean on.

  "You need to lie down again," she said. Ji wanted to protest, but knew it was for her own good. Those in immediate danger had been saved. She could rest now. She took the medical bed next to Toshi’s, unable to care that she was still in the starless sickness ward and not a proper room. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs and made her eyelids feel like lead weights.

  “Ji?” Toshi asked, eyeing the human lying next to her. “Are you alright?”

  There was really only one way to answer. Ji smiled wearily at her aquarin friend. “Never better, Toshi. Never better.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  "She did...what?" Admiral Ferrao's brows were knit together, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

  "Healed them, sir," Ulahim was gushing. "Just like that. Cured all three of them. I believe there must be a connection between the human Luminant and the human Patient Zero. We just need to figure out what."

  "This news is…astounding," Weinan put in.

  At present, the three of them, plus Knight, were standing in the waiting room of the frigate's sanctuary. They were orbiting Hlean, having fled Arryna just as soon as everyone was on board. They’d jumped to shifted space just as the Hegemonist fleet arrived at the prison planet to engage them. Above Hlean, Ferrao’s flagship, the Lucidity, had regrouped with the three frigates that were in charge of diverting the Hegemonist fleet’s attention. Other than a few fighter pilots, casualties were minimal. Despite the Remnant’s lack of resources, they’d managed to successfully complete the mission.

  Ulahim had requested an immediate meeting with the admiral and Weinan after Ji had healed all the starless sickness patients. Ji would have been in attendance, but at the orders of the sanctuary staff had remained on bedrest.

  "We've thoroughly checked all the patients; there is no sign of the viral antigens anywhere in their systems. They are well and truly healed."

  "This means the disease is not completely incurable," Ferrao said. "If we have any hope of synthesizing an antiviral to counter starless sickness we must send them off to Hruna before the spy gets word of this back to the Hegemony."

  "I agree," Ulahim said.

  "We'll ready a transport at once. Weinan, I want you to oversee the entire mission."

  Weinan saluted. "Yes, sir."

  "It's time to get to work. Dismissed," Ferrao said. Weinan and Ulahim left quickly. Knight was on their heels when she was stopped by the admiral.

  "Knight, a moment," he said. Knight stopped and turned, remembering that the admiral had wanted to talk to her earlier.

  "You will not be going along with Ji and Toshi to Hruna," he said. Knight felt her heart drop, but she knew why.

  "Because you need a Luminant here," she said. Ferrao frowned and raised an eyebrow.

  "There is that. But there is also the matter of the events on Arryna."

  Oh. Knight knew where this was going. Kanu had warned her.

  "Sir, I can explain—"

  "I don't need to hear your explanations. I just need you to listen," Ferrao said, looking down the bridge of his crooked nose at her.

  Knight snapped her mouth shut.

  "You had very specific orders on how to carry out the plan on Arryna. And you had very specific instructions not to speak of the worm outside of our company. In both situations, you disobeyed direct orders," Ferrao began. Knight opened her mouth to protest—her refusal to follow orders on Arryna had worked out. She would take her punishment for speaking of the worm when she shouldn't have, but to punish her for Arryna seemed unfair. Ferrao stopped her from talking with a look.

  "You are going to say that Arryna turned out for the better. Yes, that is true. But it is not what you were ordered to do. Because of your actions we had to take four frigates, ones that we really could not spare, to help you. The rules are in place for a reason. And if you can't follow them, then there is no place in the Remnant for you."

  Knight's blood ran cold. Was she about to be kicked out?

  "As such, you are no longer a soldier in the Remnant. Your sole responsibility will be to the temple staff under Ulahim. You are a healer now, full time. You will be assigned to the temple on the Hlean base and you will report there tomorrow at seven am sharp. Are we clear?"

  Knight swallowed. She almost wished she'd been kicked out. They were wasting her, she felt. She could do so much more, had done so much more. But she had known there would be consequences. All she could do was nod and accept them.

  "Yes, sir," she said.

  Ferrao nodded, satisfied. "Dismissed."

  -~-~-~-

  Nero and the rest of the humans felt very out of place, to put it lightly. There were more than a few dozen of them, but on a ship filled with those whose views on humanity were unknown, they felt like they were few. They had been given the run of the ship, but
the majority had chosen to stick together in the mess hall, the only readily accessible room large enough to hold them all. Nero could feel the eyes of the Remnant on them, could almost hear the whispers.

  What was to become of them, he did not know. It was his understanding that the ship that had rescued them from Arryna had not really been able to be spared. There was no way, even though the planet was now Remnant-occupied, that the Remnant had the resources to send seventy-seven humans back to Caesyn.

  "Nero," a voice called. The human turned his head to see a navy-scaled avian walking up to him. She was smiling.

  "And you are…?"

  "Captain Weinan Faulr," she said, extending a hand. Nero took it. This friendliness from the Cradle races was…hard to wrap his head around. It took him back to a time before the months on Arryna, before the war even, a simpler time. It warmed him to his core.

  "I'm here on Admiral Ferrao's behalf. I just wanted to know what your plans were, now that you're free."

  Nero looked at the humans behind him. They all stared at him expectantly. "I suppose I thought we'd be going back to Caesyn, if you could spare a ship."

  Weinan nodded. "And go back to farming, then?"

  Nero shifted on his feet. Now that Caesyn was Remnant-occupied, there was no need for an armed militia. Things could go back to normal…that is, until the Remnant lost Caesyn. And the Hegemony returned. And then they'd be right back where they'd started, fighting a war with pitchforks and torches. The thought of sitting still while the war waged around them seemed offensive.