Raven's Song

by Launnie Roush

  Max then asked Del to tell them of his life in Dis. Del insisted they tell him of their lives first, and for the next ninety minutes he sat raptly as Max and Caitlyn tried their best to fill Del in on the numerous events of the last twelve years. Del then told them that he was unwilling to discuss himself or his life. His parents were understanding, and assured him that they were willing to wait until he was comfortable enough to speak on the subject.

  Eventually Dr. Weiss returned and asked that she and some other medical specialists be allowed to examine Del. Max and Caitlyn reluctantly assented, but remained sitting while the doctor posed the same question to Del. Their son’s eyes narrowed and he regarded the woman with hostile suspicion. It was only after repeated assurances from Max and Caitlyn that he was safe and that they would be nearby that Del consented to the examinations.

  Max and Caitlyn were escorted to a nearby waiting room, which the early morning hour had rendered deserted. For nearly six hours they sat, their desperate desire to return to their son filling the air around them with an almost detectable energy. They chattered almost nonstop, speaking of their son and of the prospect of a brighter future, one which would now include him. They had been told his medical exams and the implanting of his Cell cluster, which was usually done at five years of age, would take several hours, yet as noon approached and the hospital came alive with the bustle of its daily activity, they were growing increasingly apprehensive.

  “What if something’s wrong with our baby?” Caitlyn suddenly put forth, giving voice to the unsettling thought gnawing at the both of them.

  “He’ll be okay,” Max soothed, “they’ll take good care of our boy.”

  Their fears were all but confirmed when Dr. Weiss, stepped into the waiting room. She looked to Caitlyn with a neutral expression and requested in equally neutral tones, “Could you please join me in my private office, Mrs. Floyd-Von Raben? Mr. Von Raben, Del asked to see you.”

  Caitlyn made a conscious effort to slow her racing heart as she and Max stood and exchanged a quick hug. She then followed Dr. Weiss while Max went to join their son. She tried repeatedly to assure herself that her son was fine, and that the doctor was going to tell her this very thing in private. They made their way to a private office, a fairly small but well-decorated, meticulously kept space. The doctor had Caitlyn sit in one of the chairs facing the desk, and rather than sit behind said desk, as was her usual habit during consultations, the doctor went to the chair next to Caitlyn, situated it so it faced her, and sat.

  “Caitlyn, I’ve been your family’s doctor for years, so naturally I was elated when you informed me of Del’s rescue and was honored that you me to resume his healthcare. That makes it very hard to tell you this,” Dr. Weiss said, her entire being becoming soft with deep concern and sympathy.

  Caitlyn’s racing heart suddenly seemed to stop dead with terror. “What did they do to him?”

  “Well, he’s quite healthy, physically speaking. Formidably so, actually. Most pro athletes and rangers can’t boast such a remarkable physique. The problem lies elsewhere. Let me show you.”

  The doctor brought up a screen-cloud between them and toggled it to display for Caitlyn. On it were five aquamarine images: a human skeletal, muscular, digestive, respiratory, and nervous system. Each of these images was marred by numerous pulsing red dots and slashes in various sizes and locations.

  “This’s your son’s major anatomical systems,” Dr. Weiss explained, “and each red graphic indicates a major injury he’s received in Dis since the age of five. These injuries would not be uncommon given the ferocity of his existence during this time. The issue, however, is that by way of some rogue variety of custom-built nanite, he still feels these wounds as if they were freshly inflicted. Each causes him constant and acute pain. This is apparently a punishment for gladiators wounded in his handler’s stable, the wounds being regarded as property damage. Del explained that if you feel a wound forever, you try your best not to be wounded again.”

  Hot tears burned Caitlyn’s eyes, but she managed to keep her composure, for the most part. “Please,” she begged, “please make it stop! Please help my baby!”

  “I’m conferring with everyone I can in the Federation on this matter, but it doesn’t look promising. Apparently there’s very little chance of finding the original manufacturer of these nanites, so there’s no help to be had from that approach. These nanites also remove any unwanted foreign material introduced into his body, be it a microbe, drug, or nanite, making it impossible to remove these nanites with these techniques or install his Cell cluster. We’ll implant the older cochlear and corneal implants so he’ll have a rudimentary HUD and phone function. Also, the rogue nanites only allow for the lightest of anesthesia during surgical procedures, though it should be noted that surgical incisions will torment him the same as any wound.

  “There’s also a fear that too much tampering with these nanites could kill Del, but I promise we’ll keep searching for a solution,” Dr. Weiss assured her.

  “When can Del come home?” Caitlyn asked.

  “Del’s suffering from acute PTSD, and the rogue nanites prevent treatment with medication or nanite therapy. My colleagues and I’ve decided that it’d be best if Del remained here in the hospital for a period of time. We’ll be using classical psychological treatment methods to help him cope with the trauma of his past and integrate him safely into society,” Dr. Weiss put forth.

  “Del’s been a prisoner for nearly his entire life, and now you want to keep him locked up here?! No, I think Del would be better off at home with his family,” Caitlyn insisted, a hint of steel edging her voice.

  Dr. Weiss let out a small sigh, “I didn’t want to tell you this, but Del attacked one of my colleagues when he tried to take Del’s pulse, and Del broke the man’s arm. Del is hard-wired for violent action and distrust. To him, everyone is a possible enemy, and he’ll treat them as such if he feels threatened. Of course, it goes without saying that your son possesses a remarkable talent for lethal action, so you understand our desire to keep him here until he’s better adjusted to his new life. He won’t be a prisoner; he’ll be allowed access to most of the facility and will be allowed to receive visitors, and as he improves we’ll begin exposing him to the world at large. So you see, it’d be best for everyone involved if Del stayed here for a bit.”

  Caitlyn sat silent for a long time. “Can I see him?” she finally asked, her voice coming out very small and subdued.

  “Of course”, Dr. Weiss conceded before guiding her out of the office.

  #

  Max had entered the exam room containing his son and found the young man sitting on the edge of the exam table, his head hanging low and his shoulders slumped. He was shirtless, giving Max his first view of the scars and tattoo marring his son’s torso. “Oh, Blessed Creator!” he moaned.

  Del’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowed in a predatory glare. Upon recognizing his father, his expression softened somewhat. “I hurt one of the doctors,” he reported, his voice markedly devoid of emotion.

  “Yeah? Why’d you do that?” Max asked as he took a seat beside his son.

  “He wanted to take my pulse, but he didn’t ask. He just reached for my arm all of a sudden, and I reacted. Couldn’t help it,” he elaborated.

  “I’m sure everyone understands, and I’m sure the doctor you hurt forgives you,” Max reasoned.

  Del grunted, “He called me a ‘fucking psycho.’ ”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Max said, “You know, son, you seem quite knowledgeable for someone who’s been imprisoned for most their formative years. Care to tell me how that’s possible?”

  “All of Lurah’s gladiators are well-educated. He believes that a fighter cannot be truly formidable without a formidable mind.”

  “Wouldn’t that give you the knowledge to free yourself?”

  Del gave a little snort. “I asked him that one time, and you know what he did? He begged me to try, and when I did, he beat me
into a three-day coma. That’s where I got this scar,” he said while tracing a finger along the scar on his cheek.

  Max was heartbroken to hear this, and he wanted to comfort Del, but he now knew that his son was adverse to human contact. “I’d like to put my arm around you. Is that okay?” Max asked carefully.

  “No,” Del answered abruptly.

  Max nodded, his sudden grief making it impossible to speak. The door suddenly flew open, and Caitlyn rushed in. She was wracked with deep, wretched sobs, and before either man could react, she threw herself on the floor and clung to Del’s legs.

  “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I wish it’d been me! I’d give anything to endure your suffering for you! Please forgive me! I know I’ve failed you, but please, please forgive me!” she wailed.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong. Others hurt me, not you. Please, don’t let this trouble you,” Del insisted as he gently laid his hands on his mother’s hitching shoulders and coaxed her into a standing position.

  “How could the horrible things they’ve done to you not trouble me?!” she stammered.

  “If you genuinely feel sorry for my suffering, the best way to make up for it is to continue being so good to me,” Del suggested.

  “I will! For all the forevers there’ll ever be I will! I love you so much, Del!” Caitlyn declared.

  “That’s all I ask,” Del told her.

  Caitlyn swept her son into her arms, and Max noticed Del’s body going rigid as steel. It was painfully obvious that his wife had received some ghastly news from Dr. Weiss, but he knew there would be time later to confront this next challenge in his life. Rather than separate Caitlyn from their son, Max joined in the embrace, and he prayed silently for his son’s speedy recovery.

  TWENTY EIGHT

  Richard Fulsom lay lounging in his bed after a night of wild lovemaking with his newest lover. She was showering in his personal bathroom when his Cell began to beep insistently. His HUD informed him he was receiving a call, though the call’s ID tag was inexplicably missing. He rolled over with a groan, answered the call, and felt his blood go frosty when the masked visage of a Spider genin filled his HUD.

  “We have some information you might find interesting enough to purchase,” the genin offered.

  Richard tried to sound uninterested, “What kind of information?”

  “It involves your leverage.”

  “I’ll pay,” Richard said eagerly.

  After the payment details were settled, the genin gave his report, “Del Von Raben was located by his family and was liberated from Dis nine hours ago. Your leverage is gone.”

  Richard was livid, “My father paid good money for that leverage, and now you tell me it’s gone?! How could you let this happen?!”

  “It was not our duty to guard the leverage.”

  “Dammit!” Richard screamed after terminating the call.

  His lover emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a white towel that barely covered her curvy form, and her dark hair dripping wet. “What is it, love slave?” she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand across Richard’s chest.

  He smacked her hand away, “I can take care of this. Everything’ll be just fine.”

  #

  Rangers

  A Social Studies Report

  By Selene Roberts, Grade 6

  The rangers are the military personnel employed by the states of the Federation. They are the highest paid citizens in the entire Federation. In fact, the lowest paid ranger in the Federation makes five times more money per year than the highest paid nonmilitary citizen. They are also the most prestigious people in the Federation. They are the most loved, respected, and privileged citizens.

  The rangers used to spend much of their time in battle but as the Federation got more powerful and found better technology wars stopped happening as much. The last war the Federation fought with a different nation was the Northern Conflict, started in 3092. Basically the Great Northerners, led by Prime Minister Robert Kudlow, joined with their old allies, the Quebecois, and attacked the northern part of the Ban, the massive wall protecting the entire Federation from foreigners. Within eighteen months they had punched through the Ban and were marching towards Federal City. Only a carefully planned and executed plan allowed the rangers to drive out the Northerners and save the Federation.

  When a citizen is fifteen they take the Career Aptitude Battery, or CAB. If someone is smart, strong, and good at martial arts they get to be a ranger. Then they start prep training, learning the basics of fighting and tactics. At eighteen they go to their training fort where things get a lot harder. Extreme physical and mental training, more classes, and things like that. It’s very painful and extremely difficult.

  After four years the official training is completed but a ranger is expected to keep training all the time. A ranger must be ready to go to war against any opponent at any moment. To help stay trained the rangers also double as the Federation’s law enforcement force, maintaining order in the Federation and catching criminals. Those rangers that are smart enough and good enough leaders are allowed to attend Officer’s School and become officers when they graduate.

  Each state has a unique “State Weapon” and although a ranger is trained to use a lot of different weapons they are always supposed to carry their “State Weapon”. The State of Raven’s rangers carry broadswords but these are special blades. They are “molecular resonating blades”, blades made of Kevlar laminated titanium that vibrate at a super-high frequency and whose edges are one molecule thick. This makes them so sharp they are almost able to cut through anything.

  The rangers protect us all and make sure we are safe. There is no one in the Federation who is braver or more deserving of our respect and love. When I take my CAB I hope I get to be a ranger. It would be a dream come true.

  Daryl graded the document, saved the mark, and closed the file. Like the others who associated with the Von Raben family, he had been informed early that morning of Del’s rescue, and like the others he was deeply disappointed to learn that the young man would have to remain hospitalized for some time. From there his day had commenced in the usual fashion, and he had spent the morning grading assignments that had been submitted by the newest student to enter his tutelage, the young daughter of a close friend. Now, however, he had to report to Frederic. Leaving his office, Daryl made his way through the manor house with a casual stroll.

  He arrived at the office minutes later and knocked politely on the door. No reply came, and after several moments he decided to let himself into the room. As he entered, he immediately noticed a person clad in the simple black uniform of a house servant behind Frederic’s desk, where they hunched over Frederic’s chair. He was about to speak when he heard a quiet but pained groan, so he started forward.

  The person in black, a woman, jumped away from Frederic’s chair and whipped around to face Daryl, but his attention was captured by the sight her movement had revealed. Frederic was slumped back in his chair with a pained expression on his face. Blood oozed from around a silver stiletto dagger that was sticking out of the man’s throat in the location of his carotid artery. Daryl tried to call for help with his Cell, but was not surprised to find it nonfunctional.

  “It appears I wasn’t quick enough,” the woman said with a hint of annoyance as she produced another stiletto from behind her back.

  Daryl gazed at the woman and recognized her as relatively undistinguished house servant who had worked for the Von Raben family for many years. Several realizations dawned on him almost simultaneously. “Del, Linda, Angelina? You are responsible for all of them?” he asked quietly.

  “It’s obvious now, isn’t it? Fake credentials kept me from being suspected of any wrongdoings. Now, as soon I take care of you and Fredric, I’ll finish off the rest of his Creator-forsaken family!” the woman bragged.

  Great, not a single VSF trooper within earshot, and I run across this, Daryl thought right before the woman sped towards him.

 
He could do nothing to prevent the coming assault as his core programming prevented him from harming a human, even in self-defense.

  If I shout for help she may kill the CEO before anyone can arrive, Daryl reasoned.

  The woman sank her dagger deep into Daryl’s chest, his sensors registering moderate damage to the vital components located there. A red circle of light appeared on the synthetic flesh surrounding the knife wound, highlighting the damage.

  “Stupid SIR! I’m gonna kill you, and all you can do is stand there! How pathetic can you get?!” the woman sneered as she brought her dagger up and positioned its point just above Daryl’s left ear.

  Daryl knew if she managed to bury the dagger deep enough at this location, it would destroy the receiver antenna connecting him to the Hub and temporarily kill his body. His body would be repaired soon enough, but he was devastated at the thought of being unable to protect his friend and master.

  Frederic suddenly staggered up behind their attacker, pulled her head back by her hair, and slit her throat from ear to ear with the dagger he had removed from his own throat. The woman let out a loud gag, grabbed at her gushing wound, and fell to the floor, dying moments later. Daryl rushed to Frederic’s side as the man plummeted to the floor. He tore a sleeve from his shirt and began to apply pressure to Fredric’s wound, which was also gushing blood. Just then his medical sensors informed him that he was too late; no amount of aid would save his friend. In pulling out the dagger to protect Daryl, Fredric had allowed himself to bleed to death.

  “What were you thinking?!” he asked his stricken friend.