Off to the side, Commander Ultor stood ramrod straight, his chair knocked over behind him in his haste to respond to Dr. Hesken’s scream. Mikkhael moved his head slightly to the side, having to look up in order to see Ultor’s face and make eye contact, attempting to whisper something as he did so. Everyone simultaneously realized that Ultor still held Mikkhael’s hand gripped paternally in his own, completely forgotten in the confusion, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into place as they collectively recognized the grimace on his face as he stared meaningfully at his hand.
Commander Ultor let go of his hand and moved to a cabinet, noisily fishing through the contents. The nurse and Dr. Hesken began the process of reading reports from the battery of machines monitoring Mikkhael, otherwise ignoring him as they thoroughly scanned the results each machine reported.
Having found what he was looking for, Ultor returned to the side of the bed, affixing a small electronic box next to Mikkhael’s throat via an adhesive strap placed gently around his neck. The electronic box enabled speech for people who had suffered vocal cord damage, ideal for the current situation. Because of the life support tubes that had been inserted down Mikkhael’s throat for so long while he was in a coma, his throat was raw and swollen, rendering it nearly impossible for him to speak normally.
Mikkhael suddenly convulsed in a violent coughing fit from the effort of trying to speak. When he finished, the nurse held his mouth open while Dr. Hesken liberally administered a watery mist via repeated puffs of a small bottle she’d collected from the cart, thoroughly coating the inside of his mouth and down his throat. They waited patiently for him to struggle through the process of swallowing the throat spray before liberally repeating the process. The mist contained an incredibly potent anti-inflammatory that when administered topically, greatly reduced the recovery time needed in order for him to speak normally again.
As soon as she was finished, Mikkhael made to speak but he was interrupted by another coughing fit. Once the coughing fit passed, he made eye contact with Ultor, using the box against his throat to project his voice as his throat was still too raw. “You called for me?”
“You are needed.” As if to accent the Commander’s words, several muffled explosions impacted against the side of the mountain, the reverberations echoing throughout the base. The overhead lights dimmed briefly and then recovered.
“How long have I been asleep?” Mikkhael asked weakly as the nurse helped him into a sitting position.
“Nearly two months.” Dr. Hesken answered. “I believe it is safe to say that you fell farther into yourself then you had intended. We nearly lost you.” She whispered.
Mikkhael’s eyes widened in shock, “You’re late!” He yelled clearly through the speaker hanging around his neck.
Before they could ask for clarification about what they were late for, the door to the isolated ward swung open. Eve stopped just inside the entrance, breathing heavily, clearly having run a considerable distance in order to reach the isolated ward as rapidly as possible. Ignoring their stares, she walked slowly towards the hospital bed, leaning a hand on the railing for support as she fought to catch her breath.
She paused as she talked, gulping air in between statements. “I had an alarm set … to notify me when … you woke up, took you … long enough … ‘bastard.”
Ultor was clearly about to order her to leave, but Eve anticipated him, turning towards him and letting him know in no uncertain terms that there was nothing he could do or say to make her leave. “I’m staying. If you don’t recall, both of our Mech armor were lost that day and neither have yet to be replaced. After that, you subsequently ordered me grounded from piloting. Right now there is nowhere else more important for me to be. My place is here, with him.”
Realizing that Eve was not about to back down, Ultor instead ignored her, pretending that he had not been about to order her to leave. Instead, he picked a battle he could win. He vacated the side of the bed, making room for Eve to stand by Mikkhael’s side as he moved to the computer station in the room. He activated a video feed linking him to Chief Engineer Thorsten, who after a few moments appeared on the screen, frustrated and clearly exhausted.
“Chief, he is awake, get it ready.” There was no need for Ultor to define for Chief Thorsten who was awake or what the “it” was as the feed cut out. Now that Mikkhael was awake, and the hope he represented in the form of being the single most indomitable force on the planet and the only one potentially capable of miraculously halting the PDF attack on Mount Olympus, Ultor abruptly became aware of how, at this point, every second counted.
For his part, Mikkhael visibly fought to focus on the matters at hand, unaware of how much was resting on his barely conscious shoulders. The fog clouding his mind was simply too much. His head lolled weakly to the side as he was unable to hold it upright without support. “Lisa, hit me. I need my mind.” He mechanically implored through the box on his throat.
Dr. Hesken hesitated, but moved quickly, grabbing an injector that was already filled with the inferred concoction of cognitive boosting drugs. She had anticipated needing it, having filled the injector before dropping the bottle. Only Mikkhael had no way of knowing the contents of the syringe were composed of the new formula she had synthesized with Vera. She injected the needle into the IV port grafted into his arm so that the cognitive boosters would disseminate as rapidly as possible throughout his body.
The drugs’ effect on his pace of recovery was dramatic and instant. External monitors showed that Mikkhael’s heart rate, pulse, and blood pressure all began climbing to levels associated with moderate exercise in a healthy adult. Brain activity level increased dramatically. The pallor of his skin began changing from wan to a healthy pink flush as his blood began circulating at a healthier rate. Most importantly, clarity returned to his eyes.
He had not received a dose of the cognitive boosters since the destruction of Starkindler nearly six months previous. In the meantime, the tolerance he had built to repeatedly abusing the dosage levels had faded, allowing the small dosage, and the different mixture, to have an outsized impact. His back arched and his arms and face went rigid as if he were being electrocuted from the effects of the cognitive boosters racing through his veins, nearly instantly restoring vitality and strength in their passing. Mikkhael tightly gripped the railing on each side of the hospital bed, closing his eyes as feeling and sensation throughout his body returned in an overwhelming rush.
The other four occupants of the room watched the effects of the cognitive boosters take hold with unabashed concern. Dr. Hesken and the nurse scrutinized the reports detailing the confusion appearing on the various pieces of medical equipment set to monitor Mikkhael’s status, their limited understanding attempting and failing to make sense of Mikkhael’s near miraculous rate of recovery.
Another minute passed, each second taken note of as time slowed to a crawl. Mikkhael began coping with the full effects of the drug cocktail. His breathing eased as the tension in his arms relaxed. The near panicked tones of the monitors beeping urgently in the background quieted down as he opened his eyes and slowly began removing the dozens of leads connecting him to those electronic monitors. After a hesitant nod of confirmation from Dr. Hesken, the nurse began assisting him, first removing the electronic voice box while Dr. Hesken caught his attention, ready to begin the process of orienting him to the world that had dramatically changed during the two months he had spent in the coma.
“I worked with Vera to reformulate your original concoction of cognitive boosters that you grew addicted to when fighting. With my help, we managed in large part to mitigate the side effects. The new cocktail is about 85% as effective as the previous version, but you will not become dependent on regular doses of it. Now, it shouldn’t kill you when you keep abusing the dosage levels.” Dr. Hesken crossed her arms as she stood next to the hospital bed, her face inches from his, daring him to contradict her.
He ignored her jibe after taking mental note of the reduced effecti
veness of the cognitive boosters, choosing an easier battle he turned to Commander Ultor. “We are under attack and you woke me while the battle is ongoing. It’s Akari isn’t it?” Without waiting for answer, and not needing one after receiving all the confirmation he needed in Commander Ultor’s shocked expression, Mikkhael continued, “We are going to lose, otherwise you would not risk waking me like this.”
Ultor checked his watch, the countdown timer it displayed read fifty-three minutes left. Time had slowed while they had been in the isolation ward. Each event had compressed into its own urgent crisis, taking precedence over everything else. It had seemed like much more time had passed since he had left the Command Center. “We have a little more than fifty minutes until our defenses reach critical failure.” He stated as he struggled to speak in as detached and an emotionless manner as he could. The fact that his voice nearly cracked as he did was a clear indication of the sheer depth of his despair. His failed attempt at nonchalance fooled no one.
Mikkhael nodded and then began visually searching the room, looking for something no one else could see. “Where is Aurora?”
No one dared reply as they suddenly became nervous. The four looked awkwardly at one another, unsure of what to do, or say, as they began doubting the state of Mikkhael’s mind. Until now, it had appeared to be healthy and almost presciently aware of what was happening. One of the risks of waking him prematurely from the induced coma had been the chance of his already fragile mind being stressed beyond its capacity to cope.
The four of them knew that Aurora had been destroyed along with his Mech armor, Starkindler, six months previously. Aurora’s primary consciousness had been housed in the combined quantum/super computer unique to Starkindler. During the many months of his recovery process, from nearly dying with his Mech armor, Mikkhael had refused to speak or interact in any way with any of the shells of Aurora’s consciousness that she had left behind to watch over the base and break the planet’s communication networks. A plan that they now knew had been a way to stall the PDF from attacking for as long as possible. The four of them knew the sequence of events by rote after having such a tragic loss imprinted forever on their very souls.
It was understandable that Mikkhael would suffer from temporary amnesia, and even memory loss after such traumatic events, but none of them felt capable of re-opening the absolutely terrible wounds that obviously still scarred him. Right now, when they needed him more than ever, they were entirely unsure how to respond. They had all witnessed his nearly miraculous pace of recovery from the coma up until now. His level of clarity had tricked them into assuming that there had been no side effects from waking him prematurely. Now, they were unsure, and they grew increasingly worried about the condition of his mind as he repeated himself, this time louder and more sure of his voice.
“Where is she?” He stridently called out; frustrated by their lack of response as he tried to meet their eyes, but they avoided him, looking elsewhere. He continued glancing around the room, searching for a projector that the AI could use to manifest her presence, and becoming increasingly distraught by his ability to find one. “Aurora, show yourself!” He commanded angrily.
Again, there was no reply except for their nervous shuffling. The four looked askance at one another, uncertain of what to do, knowing that the situation was quickly spiraling out of control and yet none of them knew how to contain it, preventing it from continuing. None of them wanted to be ultimately responsible for breaking the spell. Mikkhael, and the hope he represented for all of them, had appeared so close to being realized. They knew it was an illusion, but all of them felt that once their doubts were spoken aloud, their last hope of being saved would shatter.
“Aurora you bitch! Show yourself!!” Mikkhael suddenly screamed at full volume. He paused to inhale deeply, taking as deep a breath as his weakened lungs could hold, and then his voice cut through the medical ward with the same power of a drill sergeant giving orders. ”LIMITERS OFF!” He screamed. “Ascension! Show yourself Aurora, ASCENSION!!”
Dr. Hesken was the first to act, having made her decision. She grabbed an injection gun sitting on the cart near his bed, this one filled with a powerful sedative. The others instantaneously understood the portent of her actions, watching in complete horror as their hero and savior’s mind broke in front of them. The nurse and Commander Ultor moved to hold Mikkhael’s arms and torso down while a sobbing Eve grabbed his legs, pinning him in place. They fought to strap his flailing limbs down, restraining him for his own safety.
They had failed him.
Their worst fears, that waking Mikkhael prematurely would overwhelm the fragile state of his mind appeared to have become reality. Dr. Hesken would sedate him, then they would evacuate him and his nearly rebuilt Mech armor Starkindler with the other personnel.
They had utterly failed in their attempts to save him from himself, having forced too much of their needs on his wounded and weary shoulders. Now, there was nothing left that could stop them from having to pay the price for their sins, and the price for their sins was steep.
Just as the needle of the injection gun containing the sedative was about to pierce Mikkhael’s skin, the lights within the room dimmed to the point of nearly blacking out. Simultaneously, the screens of the computer equipment in the room lit up, shining brilliantly in the now dark room as green and blue numbers and symbols began cascading like a waterfall down the previously dedicated displays. The ground shook beneath their feet as a loud rumbling sound thundered faintly from far away in the mountain, growing louder as it swiftly approached the medical bay, the roar building with frightening power as it continued racing towards them. The ground and even the walls began to shake as the rumbling continued growing in intensity.
Dr. Hesken hesitated with the needle, holding it near the IV port in Mikkhael’s arm as she glanced fearfully around the room, watching the unsecured pieces of medical equipment dance across the floor. Several cabinet doors flew open, vomiting their contents onto the counters and the tiled floor below them. Next to her, the nurse, Commander Ultor, and Eve, had all stopped pinning Mikkhael down, watching along with Dr. Hesken as they clearly wondered if a nuclear attack or other large scale bomb had detonated inside the mountain and the explosion was even now coming to claim their souls for failing their hero in his time of need.
Unbeknownst to them, the airflow throughout the entire base had all been temporarily re-routed towards the isolation ward, overwhelming the limited capacity of the ducts. Mini explosions began rippling in steady succession as the pressure from the impending wall of air overwhelmed and disintegrated each of the vents leading towards the medical ward in turn. All of the lights in the room flickered and then blacked out completely, even the monitors on the medical equipment, as the rumbling continued approaching, continuing to grow in power and intensity as it raced towards them.
Without warning, the floor heaved violently, throwing them several inches into the air before suddenly dropping from underneath their feet, only to repeat the process even more violently the second time. They fearfully clung one another, their eardrums popping from the pressure of the approaching wave of destruction. Eve screamed in terror, but the sound of the continually expanding wall of air heading towards them drowned out her voice. Then suddenly the wall of air blasted violently into the room, bearing down on them so hard it knocked people over and sent equipment flying as the pressure in the room at once increased exponentially.
The wall of air dissipated as quickly as it had arrived. When the confused group of occupants opened their eyes, first moving to hands and knees before slowly regaining their feet, they were greeted by the strangest sight they had ever seen. There in front of Mikkhael stood a human sized figure composed entirely of green and blue dots, drawing its substance from the glowing displays of the electronic equipment in the room that had switched to battery power. The dots coalesced, dancing through the air as the figure gracefully flowed to the side of the hospital bed where Mikkhael remained, reach
ing an arm towards him as it affectionately attempted to caress his face. The glowing dots rippled as the ethereal fingers of light brushed his cheek, dancing around him as if he were surrounded by thousands of fireflies. A feminine voice echoed from a dozen sets of speakers throughout the room, speaking with unmistakable authority even as it whispered affectionately. “You are finally ready.”
“Remove all limiters Aurora, the time has come.” Mikkhael softly replied, and yet somehow his voice resonated through the isolated ward with the unmistakable iron ring of command.
The figure of light began dancing in acknowledgement of the command, her dress shimmering around her as she did so. The folds of the gown radiated brilliantly with greens and blues as it shifted and rippled with her movement before beginning to blow from the effect of an unseen wind. The echo of another profound rumbling began emanating from deep inside the belly of the mountain, much less violent and more localized than the first, as if an enormous reactor started up. The lights in the room blinked on, if anything rendering the form in front of the group even more solid. Underneath and around them, the walls of carved stone quivered under the intensity of the additional power now flowing throughout the veins of the rebel base.
Mikkhael continued speaking; the strangeness of the situation not fazing him in the slightest while everyone else struggled to make sense of what was happening. They had believed his mind broken, incapable of understanding reality, and now they were the ones forced to re-evaluate who was sane in the face of such unexplainable events. “Reassume control of your discarded personas; activate additional base defenses as planned. Coordinate defense of the mountain with the other AI’s, prioritize the safety of the StormCrows as you take over command of the defense.”
The mountain groaned loudly and then shifted underneath their feet as if it were a giant sleeping restlessly. The smell of ozone wafted through the air as the base responded to Aurora’s touch.
Nemesis (The MechaVerse Trilogy Book 2) Page 42