by Pippa Jay
“He is only a child, Rialto, not a monster. It is not his fault.”
“Then whose fault is it?” There was the sound of wood scraping across flagstones– Rialto’s great chair shifting as he levered himself out of it. Uneven footsteps limped across the floor. “The boy is a curse upon us, upon our Family. How long do you believe they will continue to shield him? Since the day of his birth there have been rumors in the city of a demon child born to the Corizi. His existence will ruin us.”
“He is our son.” Her voice broke, and Keir squeezed his eyes shut, refused the tears. His pain washed over Quin, a pale, cold shadow of what his six-year-old self had felt.
“He is a freak!” A crash and clatter told of something thrown across the room in rage, and Keir flinched, clenching his hands into fists. Should he go back in? Would his father’s anger drive him to more than violence against mere objects?
“Only death awaits that boy, my love,” Rialto continued, his voice calmer now, colder. “Sooner or later.”
A thunder of knocks sounded abruptly at the apartment door, and Keir pushed himself backward as if stung.
“Who could that be at this hour?” Serena asked, her voice high in surprise.
With a sense of foreboding, Quin watched Keir back away until he stumbled against his bed and was forced to sit. As footsteps approached his room, his breath snagged in his throat and his pulse quickened. The door swung open and a host of strangers entered his room. Anonymous figures, masked and hooded, they came in ominous silence. Two seized his arms and yanked him upright.
“No.” He dragged his heels, but they were stronger and lifted him from his feet. “No, let me go!”
Keir fought, lashing out in frantic desperation until one grabbed his wrists and looped cord around them. Another threw Keir effortlessly over his shoulder.
“No, please!” Panic flooded his voice, sickening terror paralyzing him.
The ground spun beneath him as his captor turned and carried him from his room. Not a word was spoken. There was no sound other than his own cries as he struggled. He caught a last glimpse of his mother as he was taken, her face bleached white as she stood frozen in his father’s grip. Then they were passing through the door and out into the night beyond.
He screamed for help as they took him through shadowy streets to an unknown place, but no one came. In a room lit only by glowing coals in metal baskets, and far below the level of the city’s streets, the hooded men strapped him to a metal frame with leather restrains that tore the skin from his wrists and ankles. They stripped him of his Corizi finery to leave him shivering and naked. The chill sound of metal sliding from leather scabbards filled the silence as they unsheathed their knives. Then they cut him. Again and again the bright blades flashed crimson as they carved mystic symbols into his young flesh.
No one spoke to him. No one touched him except to slash his skin. He begged until his throat seized and he choked on his own pleas for mercy. The pain etched his skin like streams of hot acid and lasted an eternity, broken only by blessed fragments of lost consciousness.
The memory abruptly shattered, to be replaced by a stream of splintered memories. The alien sound of his voice shrieking that his skin was burning. His mother’s tear-stained face transfigured by guilt. Writhing in a fever, begging for help as his mother tried to soothe his agony with soft words and expensive balms that brought little relief.
The chaos stilled and focused.
Keir gazed at his naked form in a mirror, the wounds healed to a twisted network of black scars that disfigured every part of his body. In a sudden frenzy, he shredded bedding and wrapped himself from head to toe in every fragment of cloth he could scavenge before running from the house into the night.
Quin grasped at the memory as it faded into nothingness, calling for Keir, but he had melted away again. Subject to the torrent of nightmares and memories sweeping over her, all his thoughts and feelings laid bare, she was losing herself. She needed to gain some control, but she couldn’t hold onto anything, couldn’t anchor herself. Instead she was plummeting into his death, falling into eternal darkness with the man she had hoped to save.
* * * *
As Quin sank to her knees, Surei pushed off the bed and snatched up the scanner. Quin’s breathing had become labored and her head sagged forward until it rested against Keir’s. Taler glanced inquiringly at the senior medic, who shook her head. There was nothing they could do. Quin’s life signs had fallen as low as Keir’s, as if synchronizing. They were losing them both.
* * * *
She was drowning. The blackness of the water closed around her, filled her mouth. Her body screamed for air. The cold seeped through her, stealing her life with icy fingers. She sank deeper, too tired to fight the fear that bound her in chains of steel.
So this is how you choose to die? After all you’ve been through, after all you’ve survived, a little water is going to kill you? Her own thoughts mocked her, and raged surged over the fear. Hell, no!
Sudden strength filled her and she kicked out. With desperate arm strokes she fought her way up to erupt from the surface with a painful gasp. A shake of her head cleared the salt water from her eyes. They were back on the Salusian beach–or a semblance of it–overshadowed by a steel-gray sky. Between waves, she glimpsed a solitary figure in the grayness, standing chest-deep in the water and not moving. She struck out toward it as best she could until her feet touched bottom. Sand shifted beneath her toes and undercurrents tugged at her legs.
“Keir!”
Bogged down by her sodden clothing, she splashed and struggled toward him, calling out, but her voice was too weak to be heard over the sound of the surf. Reaching him finally, she put out her hand to touch his shoulder but recoiled at the contact. He was cold as a marble figurine, and as responsive. As she faced him, he looked straight through her, as if his blue eyes were fixed on some unseen horizon far beyond their world.
“Keir?”
Trembling, she cupped his head in her hands, trying to reach him, but he was a hollow shell, all that had been Keir lost in the void. Only the rising sea remained, cold and cruel. Quin struggled to keep her balance as the water rose higher, but the waves were relentless, tugging her down. As the sea swallowed them she put her arms around Keir, fighting to hold onto him as they plummeted into the depths. He slipped from her arms into the sudden abyss opening below them, leaving her to drown alone. Refusing to surrender, Quin swam down and grabbed his hand. His fingers closed abruptly on her own but he was too heavy and she couldn’t pull them back to safety. The blackness closed around them.
* * * *
In the medical center, Keir’s monitor display flattened into horizontal bands of color and Quin slithered limply to the floor.
Surei knelt and searched for a pulse, finding one that was weak and irregular. “Taler, help me move her.”
Taler lifted Quin’s body and carried her to the nearest bed. Surei activated a monitor–which showed feeble signs of life–while Taler fastened a metal feed collar around one wrist.
“Hypo,” Surei demanded, and Taler slapped the syringe into her hand. She pushed five milligrams of eximodrenaline and waited, eyes on Quin’s stats, but it soon became clear the drug had been unsuccessful. Surei’s feathers ruffled in vexation.
“Isn’t there anything else we can try?” Taler asked.
“Nothing,” the avian medic sighed. “She failed. We can only wait and see if she recovers, but I doubt it.”
She glanced over at Keir’s bed with a pang of regret. Despite what she had said to Quin, she hated to lose anyone. She saw each and every death as her own failure, even when she knew without doubt the patient was beyond help. Even though she had long since accepted she could not save everyone.
“Taler,” she murmured, gesturing with her head. “Can you pack him away, please? If she wakes, I don’t think it will help her to see him like that.”
The haemovore nodded and went over to his pallet. She took his arm to remove the fe
ed collar from his wrist, and paused. She sniffed, pale eyes uncertain as she slid one hand to his throat. “Surei?”
It took Surei a moment to shake off her disappointment. “What is it?”
“He isn’t dead.”
Surei stared at her in disbelief then glanced meaningfully at the silent monitors with their trail of flat lines radiant against the black surface.
“I know,” agreed Taler, purple hair bobbing in excitement. “But I am never wrong!”
Surei didn’t contradict her, whatever her doubts. She knew her assistant’s abilities well–haemovores could detect the faintest trace of life, a natural instinct that had enabled them to find food in their earliest form and a talent that made Taler a first-class medic.
Automatically, she passed the scanner over Keir’s lifeless figure and found nothing, not the slightest sign.
“Taler...?” she queried, but the haemovore grinned, showing her delicate fangs.
“May I?” she asked eagerly.
Surei gestured for her to proceed, curious to see what the girl intended. Taler filled a hypo with a mixture of resuscitants and used it, then ushered Surei away from the bed as she issued firm instructions to the medical computer.
“Prepare for resus,” she ordered.
“Stand by,” the expressionless voice of the computer responded, followed by a series of rapid beeps. “Defib ready, level one. Stand clear.”
A jolt of energy shot through Keir’s body, making him jerk in response. The monitors remained unchanged and Taler gave him another hypo, repeating the instruction.
“Defib ready, level two. Stand clear.”
Another bolt of charge was delivered, and this time the monitors flickered into life. Stunned, Surei checked manually for a pulse as Taler grinned, her white face luminous with triumph. Keir was breathing, and the monitors showed a steady heartbeat and brain activity.
“Brilliant work, Taler.”
Surei patted the beaming young medic on the shoulder in admiration before an urgent beeping from Quin’s monitor drew her away. While the pulse was still lower than normal, her brain activity was also returning to a more acceptable level. Taler’s resuscitation of Keir seemed to have brought Quin back too.
Relieved beyond measure, Surei placed a hand on Quin’s forehead and offered a silent prayer of thanks.
Chapter 4
He hung suspended in a moment of utter stillness before sudden awareness sparked–a splinter of light in the darkness. A voice called him back. A hand grasped his and refused to release him to the depths below, where Death awaited him in ravenous anticipation.
His eyes snapped open. Something pressed across his mouth. He reached up and tugged at it, pulling the mask away. Though his body still ached and fatigue lay on him like a weighted blanket, the worst of the pain had eased to leave him feeling better than he had in a long time.
He lay quietly, not moving anything other than his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings. A simple white blanket covered him to his chest and the warm mattress supporting his body seemed to have molded itself against him. His left arm lay across his stomach, but his right rested by his side, encased in a heavy metallic band, its tight grip uncomfortable. He flexed his hand curiously, but could not find the energy to lift it and investigate.
The room itself had no windows, just white walls as far as he could see. The ceiling radiated a diffuse, off-white glow that was easy on the eyes. Blocks of glossy black stone–marked by tiny lights and patterns of shimmering lines–seemed to be making quiet noises, a faint background hum that lingered on the edge of his hearing.
Everything was slightly strange, a degree away from familiar, but there seemed to be no threat and he felt no fear until he turned his head and saw Quin lying nearby, her skin very pale against the dark fabric of her clothing. She lay so still, her gray eyes closed and small hands folded across her stomach.
After watching her anxiously for a while, he saw her breathing, saw a tiny flicker of her eyelids, each a reassuring sign of life. Had she been injured? It disturbed him to not know for certain, but if he was alive surely nothing worse could have happened to her?
He tried to lift his head and a warning pain speared through his chest, discouraging further movement. Lying back, he abandoned any attempt to rise. For the first time, he was truly safe–somewhere his past could not reach him. With his head turned toward Quin, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
* * * *
Quin had her own nightmares. Scarlet coals blazing and hooded figures waiting in the dark. Darion, as handsome as ever with his long, serious face and brown hair, watching her with somber green eyes. The Sentiac’s dark talons reaching out for her, again and again. Keir, his face bloodied almost beyond recognition.
She fought to wake up, but when she did, she wished herself back to sleep again. A supernova of pain exploded in her head, surpassing anything she could remember. Easing herself upright, she pressed her hands against her throbbing head and groaned. The agonizing aftereffects were yet another reason sharing someone’s mind was a bad idea, particularly on the threshold of death.
Never again, she vowed. Even miracles aren’t worth this.
“Headache?” Surei stood at the foot of the bed, crossed arms and tilted head clearly indicating her disgust with Quin.
“Please. Don’t tell me it serves me right,” Quin begged, flinching even at the sound of her own muted voice. “I know. It was stupid. You can shout at me all you like as soon as you’ve doped me up enough to stop my head exploding.”
Sighing, Surei pressed a hypo to her shoulder. The brief sting soon gave way to a delightful warmth that shot through her body, replacing the pain with light-headed euphoria. She lay back dizzily.
“What was that?” she slurred.
“New recipe, endorphin-based,” Surei told her as she replaced the hypo, and then waved a scanner over her patient’s head. “Those journals from Edarius you gave me contained medical research on telepathic talents and associated ailments. Feeling better?”
“I feel wonderful. This is marvelous!”
“It can be addictive, so don’t expect it as a regular thing.” Surei clicked off the scanner and waved it at Quin. “It can also be mildly hallucinogenic, so you’re confined to medical until it dissipates, as a precaution.”
“That’s fine,” sighed Quin, easing herself back into her bed. “I don’t feel much like moving, to be honest.”
“How about talking?”
“About?”
“Tell me why?”
Quin opened her mouth to counter with “why what?” but the expression on Surei’s face warned her it wouldn’t be wise. She hesitated, allowing the drug to banish the last traces of discomfort in her head before speaking. “Because, despite the appalling way his own people treated him all his life, the terrible things that were done to him, he still cared enough to save my life. He saw value in someone else’s existence despite condemning his own.”
“So you risked your mind and your immortality because you felt you owed him a debt?” Surei sounded scathing.
“No, there’s more to it than that.” Quin spoke slowly, trying to think of a way to explain her decision. “Salusan is a human colony, even if they don’t seem aware of the fact. Nothing remarkable about them at all. But Keir…” Her breath caught as she recalled the ephemeral mental connection that had sparked each time she touched him. “It wasn’t quite telepathy, but there was something there. A sense of familiarity. I haven’t felt anything like that in decades.”
“And on that vague ‘something’ between you, you save his life and bind yourself to him for the rest of yours?”
“You’re not a telepath, Surei. You wouldn’t understand. You’ve no idea how rare that is. How special.”
Surei folded her arms across the front of her pale blue tunic. “‘Special’ is not a logical justification. It’s a gamble, and if you’re honest with yourself, Quin, you’d know that. Altruism is a very noble characteristic, but one d
ay it’ll kill you.”
Quin darted a glance across to his bed and watched him breathing steadily, his face turned toward her. “It worked then.”
“Yes, it worked. Let’s hope you don’t both regret it.”
Quin smiled. Although still battered and bruised, she could see the color in his face and feel the life in him.
“Quin!”
Her head snapped back and she closed her mind before she lost herself. She would have to learn to control the link she had forged with him. “Sorry.”
“I discovered some interesting things while you were out of it, some of which might explain the connection you felt,” Surei continued, her speech clipped. Quin hid a yawn and settled back, recognizing the start of a lecture, but too relaxed to care as the Memorphorm bed molded comfortably around her. “I now know how he survived so long without advanced medical attention. He has amazing self-healing abilities. Well above average.”
“Maybe the mutation that made him look different gave him some sort of accelerated healing,” Quin suggested.
The medic gave her a severe look. “Come now, Quin. I thought you knew better than to judge by appearances,” Surei scolded.
Quin stared at her. “Are you telling me he’s human? It isn’t a mutation?”
“Not only is he human, his genetic signature matches yours.”
“He’s my descendant?”
“No, his DNA doesn’t match, but he carries a marker from the same Sentiac.”
“That’s not possible,” she told the medic, shaking her head. “What happened to me was a bizarre accident, a chance in several centillion. Could you imagine the chances of it happening twice? ”
“Nothing is impossible, Quin. In any case, I didn’t say it had happened twice. What I’m saying is that we may have found your Sentiac.”
“Keir isn’t the Sentiac.” Quin sighed with a touch of irritation. “That much is obvious.”
“No, he isn’t,” Surei agreed, “but he is its descendant.”