by D. B. West
“Yes. A war is coming with the Abbadon, and your people need you. I’m not happy about it, but we need you too,” Orak said, glancing at Aki.
“Even with all the terrible things I saw, that I did in the war…when the government told me I was done, I begged them to reconsider,” Delmont said. “I begged them to let me go back because I knew that if I was there, other boys would make it home. If I can fight with you, and help save some people that might not make it…I guess that ain’t a deal a devil would make, now is it? Tell us what we have to do. You fix us up, and we’ll stand by you.”
Orak grabbed the rail on Delmont’s bed, and slid it closer to Tyler’s. Lifting Delmont’s mutilated left arm, Orak held it out to Tyler. “Normally you would take his hand,” Orak said. “But in this case, grasp his forearm, and hold him tightly.”
Tyler’s hands were large, but not long enough to fully enclose Delmont’s muscular forearm. “Damn cock diesel,” Tyler said. “No wonder you managed to fuck up that bug thing you were talking about. Your arm is thicker than my legs. Both of them. Together.”
Delmont snorted, and Orak said sharply, “Shut up, I need to concentrate.”
Tyler watched Orak pull the armored glove he was wearing off of his other hand, then close those unnerving solid blue eyes as he laid one hand on top of Tyler’s, and the other underneath Delmont’s arm. “I can’t help it man, running my mouth is my super power,” Tyler said. “You got some cold-ass hands for a dude that wears gloves all the time, you know that?”
“Shut up,” Orak repeated. Standing over the two men, Orak’s body began to tremble, a tremor both of them could feel in the hands gripping them. Orak’s hands began to grow warmer, becoming feverish and then uncomfortably hot in only a few seconds. Just before the heat grew unbearable, Orak pushed his hands together firmly, causing Delmont to grunt with the pain in his injured arm. The heat began to abate, and Orak pulled Tyler’s hand away, laying Delmont’s arm gently back down on the bedside. Taking up his gloves, Orak wiped his sweaty hair back from his forehead, watching the two men expectantly.
Tyler flexed his hand experimentally, and looked at the back of it to see if he had a scorch mark from the heat Orak had produced. Seeing nothing obvious, he said, “So what the hell was…” before a fit of coughing doubled him over in the bed.
“Aki, he will need your help,” Orak said.
“Of course,” Aki replied, padding over from the doorway. “You’re right, those tubes will have to go.” The chest tubes on either side of Tyler’s chest stiffened, as though gripped by some invisible hand, and then with a wet pop both came free of his chest wall. A spurt of blood accompanied each one as it came free, causing Tyler to writhe on the bed as the spasm of coughing continued.
Delmont had sat stiffly in his bed while Tyler thrashed beside him. His face had begun to pale almost as soon as their hands had separated, and unable to contain it any longer, Delmont leaned over the side of the bed, vomiting explosively. Aki leapt back from the dark spew, which spread in a rancid puddle across the floor. Delmont gagged and shook as his bowels continued to heave, and a horrid stench filled the room.
Tyler’s coughing left him in no better shape. He had begun to produce a dark mucus, which he hacked and spit over the side of his bed as his chest cleared.
“This will pass soon,” Orak said loudly, so the two men could hear through the violent reactions racking their bodies. “You have a lifetime of toxins to purge, as part of the recovery process. It can be unpleasant,” Orak added impassively.
Delmont recovered from his distress first, flopping back onto his pillows weakly. “Oh God,” he muttered. “I think I shit the bed. You didn’t say anything about making me shit myself…this might have been a deal breaker.”
“I had no way of knowing how your body might purge. My kind don’t usually have that many poisons in their systems,” Orak said, looking over to Tyler’s bed where his fit of coughing finally seemed to be abating. He continued hacking up some sort of foul, black sputum, which he wiped unceremoniously on his blanket. “I truly have no idea what is coming out of your lungs” Orak told him. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“What?” Tyler gasped weakly. “You boys don’t smoke up over on your side of the pond? I think it must be from the cigarettes…man I wish I had them right now.” Tyler lay back onto his pillow, sweat-soaked and shivering. After a moment, he ran a hand over his chest, then looked down in surprise. “Those tubes…the holes are gone! Man, I feel…I feel…well, mostly like I need a smoke and a nap. How about you, cock diesel?” Tyler asked, glancing over at Delmont.
Delmont lay shivering violently in his filthy bed, gritting his teeth tightly. “Just give me a minute,” he rasped through his raw throat. “It hurts”.
Orak looked over to Aki and said, “Go ahead and let our hosts into the room before they tear this place down. Turn all the lights back on first, and make sure they don’t shoot us when they get in the room.” Turning towards the wall, Orak spread both arms and legs in a position of surrender.
Aki padded over to lie down beside Orak, facing the wall. As the lights began to flicker back on in the room, the door swung open quietly. A pair of shocked soldiers could be seen blinking in the bright fluorescents in the hall, both still holding their flashlights.
“It’s open!” one of them yelled, falling back as another pair of soldiers entered the room with their rifles at the ready.
“We’ve found the aliens. I repeat, we have located the aliens in room 3F. Taking them back into custody now,” one of the soldiers said into his comm. “They have been in contact with subjects Delta and Tango. Assessing their condition now, requesting medical staff on site. I repeat, requesting medical staff for subjects Delta and Tango.”
“Good God,” the other soldier said, looking at the river of dark vomit running between the beds and the two men lying in the filthy sheets. “Look at this, they beat the shit out of them”.
“No, it’s not like that,” Tyler said, throwing back his sheets. “They came in here to help us.”
“It’s true,” Delmont added. Sitting up in his bed, he flexed his right arm, which was completely encased in a plaster cast. The plaster began to crack, and once he had regained enough range of motion to reach his left hand, he began unwrapping the bloody bandages that had surrounded the stumps of his fingers. Everyone in the room could already see that the bandages on his hand had burst as new bone had formed at the site of his amputation, sprouting rapidly into a new set of skeletally thin digits. As he flexed his left hand, the newly formed fingers swelled rapidly and darkened as blood perfused them, quickly taking on the appearance of a normal hand.
“These two, that call themselves Oraki, they came in here and said they could heal us,” Delmont explained, as he began picking at the bandage wrapped around his head. “Don’t hurt them. I know if it looks as bad in here as it smells, you must think the worst…”
A nurse was escorted into the room by another soldier. She looked at her two patients aghast. When she had left them to rest earlier they had been clean and comfortable, and now their bandages were scattered, and there was filth everywhere. She went straight to Delmont, who was still struggling to unwrap the bandages on his head. “Mr. Jeffries, please, you need to leave those alone. You don’t want the sockets exposed while they’re healing…”
“I think it’s going to be ok,” Delmont said, excitement obvious in his voice. Finally getting his thumb under the bandages, he lifted them up enough for one of his warm brown eyes to peek out. The nurse stepped back, shocked to see a perfectly normal eye emerge. Delmont blinked rapidly, as a tear formed in the exposed eye. “You really fixed us. You gave me back my eyes.”
Standing up from the bed with his head still partially covered, Delmont said, “You tell me when and where. Any help you need from me, you have my word I’ll be there.”
“Same here,” Tyler said. “Just tell us what we need to do.”
Orak had been placed in restra
ints by one of the soldiers, and looked to the two men before he was led from the room. “I need you to get cleaned up and rest. Cooperate with your people, and tell them what happened here. I will see you both soon.”
“I’ll lead us back to the cell,” Aki said cheerily, jogging out of the room before the soldiers could protest. As he was heading in the right direction, two of them shrugged to each other, and escorted Orak out.
Tyler looked over at Delmont, then to the nurse who still stood between them, seemingly at a loss on what to do first for the two men. “So this room is pretty much beyond saving,” he said, looking at the puddles in the floor. “How about we go find the showers and some new accommodations, and consider just setting all this on fire?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Saturday, August 4th 06:48 EST
Director Spencer, Greensboro, N.C.
Director Spencer waved off the agent accompanying him as he was admitted to the wing holding the alien Zion. “Has he done anything overnight?” the Director asked the soldier guarding the cell block.
“Negative, sir. Last night he asked for something to read, so we brought some books from the library for him. He was reading Tolstoy earlier,” the soldier replied.
“Tolstoy? Which book?” Director Spencer asked.
“Hadji Murat, sir.”
The Director raised an eyebrow. “Do you think there is some significance to his choice of reading material?” he asked the soldier.
The young man grinned wryly. “I haven’t read it, sir. I couldn’t really say.”
The Director simply nodded, and said, “It’s a bit dark. You should look at it, once he’s done.” Walking past the guard post, he proceeded down the row of empty cells to where Zion was being held. The alien rose from the cot where he had been lying when he saw the Director approach.
“I need to ask you some more questions about recent events,” Director Spencer said without preamble.
“Of course” Zion replied. “As I told you, I have come to help in any way that I can.”
“There was an incident here at the office last night,” Director Spencer said.
Zion nodded, and asked “Was it the Abbadon again? Have they made another incursion?”
“No, this was internal,” the Director said, pacing in front of the cell with his hands clasped behind him. “We have identified three civilians who have been targeted in the last two days, each of whom seem to have some unusual abilities. Two of these civilians were being treated for injuries upstairs in the medical wing. Oraki left his cell last night to go visit these two men.”
Zion’s face remained impassive. “Do you know what the child and his dog spoke to them about?” he asked calmly.
“Yes. Oraki struck a deal with them,” Director Spencer said. “Oraki apparently shares your concern that these Abbadon will come in force, and offered to heal the two men’s injuries if they would agree to stand and fight the creatures, if they do attack Earth. Oraki also asked for their assistance in making sure you were brought back to your own kind to face prosecution for coming to our world.”
Zion’s jaw clenched, and the Director could hear the alien’s teeth grinding. “Offered to heal them, or actually did it?”
The Director stared at Zion, carefully gauging his reaction. “Oraki healed the two men completely. He healed them of wounds that are beyond our medical science. Do you know how he could have done this?”
“Yes, I know exactly how. I told you that the child had gotten in trouble previously for bonding its soul to other creatures! When two souls are first bound together, their connection to the aether is reformed, strengthening them. The surge of energy this creates can restore the physical shell to its peak. The bonding of souls is a sacred Elvahn ritual, and for Orak to perform it on two humans...” Zion trailed off, and Director Spencer could see from the set of the alien’s features that he was truly disturbed.
“Why does this upset you so greatly? Did you have some designs of your own on these men?” Director Spencer asked pointedly. “You maintain that you have come here to warn us of an impending attack, and to help us fight a hostile race intent on using our species as a food source. You felt so strongly about coming to our aid that you broke a peace treaty, likely inciting these hostilities, and are now a fugitive from your own race. You feign outrage at Oraki for breaking some sort of cultural taboo by healing two men, even as we are seeking evidence that you, directly or indirectly, caused their injuries. Let me tell you something, Zion. The biggest mistake a brilliant man can make is to underestimate the intellect of those around him. Do you think we don’t see right through you? You sit in this cell mocking us while reading a story of betrayal, and believe you are the manipulator? I want you to understand something right now. We will accept your offer to help fight these Abbadon, if they come. We will accept your offer with our eyes wide open, knowing damn well that you have come to appease some vengeance of your own. We will use you, as you are begging to be used, and then we are going to hand you back to your own kind and let them administer whatever passes for justice amongst you ‘civilized’ Elvahn. In the meantime, enjoy the hospitality of your cell. I will let Oraki know of our ‘arrangement,’ and that he will have you as soon as we are done with you.”
Zion pressed his face to the bars of his cell as Director Spencer walked away. “Thank you, Director!” he called. “You have given me all that I could have asked for…” Zion said, as the door at the end of the ward slammed shut. “And soon you will get all that you deserve.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Oraki had been returned to the containment cell after being apprehended. The pair appeared to be resting on the bed when Director Spencer entered the observation room. “Has anything happened since they were brought back?” he asked the new technician on duty.
“No, sir, they’ve been resting the last few hours. The Elv, Orak, seemed tired and lay down immediately once they were found.”
“I need to speak to them,” Director Spencer said. “Have some food and drink brought in, and activate the recording software.”
“Yes, sir, right away,” the technician replied as Director Spencer strode from the room.
Orak was lying on the bed when the airlock cycled open to admit the Director, while Aki sat by the table with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. “Good morning you two,” Director Spencer said, as he took a seat at the table.
The cards Aki had been playing with shuffled themselves into a neat pile, slid back into their box, and disappeared into one of the pockets on Aki’s harness. “Good morning, Director,” Aki said. “And sorry about any misunderstandings last night.”
“We’re going to need the help of people like Delmont and Tyler before this is all over,” Orak said in a rough voice, moving to join them at the table. “And we needed to see them before you let Zion get close, in case he is the one somehow manipulating your humans. We didn’t think you would let us see them willingly, but letting them suffer or die was not acceptable.”
“I understand,” Director Spencer told them. “And while I don’t approve of your methods, your results were quite impressive. So much so, in fact, that I first wanted to ask if you might be able to do the same thing for other injured individuals.”
Aki snorted, and Orak shook his head. “I can only bond those souls who possess an innate connection with the aether, and are able to manipulate it to some degree. The ability is rare in your people, and the bonding process has...side effects. We were actually hoping you might bring Delmont and Tyler here this morning, so that we could all discuss this in more detail.”
“That was my thinking, too,” Director Spencer confirmed. “One thing I did want to ask, though, is how you managed to black out this floor of the building so completely?”
Aki’s ears lay back and his lips curled to reveal his multiple rows of teeth. He was clearly angered by the question, but then he chuffed out his wheezing laugh, seeming to calm quickly. “I have to remind myself that you don’t mean
to be so condescending. I suppose I’m being overly sensitive about the food your guards keep leaving on the floor for me,” Aki said. “Director, despite my appearance, you must remember I am not a house pet. I’m an engineer. I helped build and maintain a machine that runs on aether and opens portals spanning galaxies. Your lights run on electricity carried through wires. You want to know how I turned them all off? I unplugged them.”
“You start to act like me when you get tired,” Orak observed dryly.
“At least I have exhaustion as an excuse to be grumpy,” Aki retorted. “You’re just a…” Aki grumbled something the Director didn’t understand, but which caused Orak to snicker quietly.
Not being in on the joke, the Director smiled politely and rose to excuse himself. “I’m going to go ask Mr. Jeffries and Mr. Morrison to join us. I have also asked that some refreshments be sent in. I will return shortly.”
Orak and Aki sat at the table together, only moving briefly when an agent came in with a tray loaded with fruits, mixed nuts, and juices. A few minutes later, Director Spencer ushered Delmont and Tyler into the room, waving an arm in invitation for them to have a seat. Both men were freshly showered, and had been provided clean hospital gowns.
“I wanted to bring you all together so that we could discuss in more detail what occurred last night. Delmont, Tyler, I understand that after having a chance to rest, you have some questions for Oraki that you would like answered,” Director Spencer said.
Delmont nodded, and spoke first, “We wanted to let you know how much we appreciate what you did for us. I feel better this morning than I have in years. See this?” Delmont pointed to the stubble growing on his head. “I’ve been shaving my head since my hair started receding twenty years ago. It’s growing back. All of it. I don’t know why I find that more amazing than you fixing my eyes, or my hand, but there it is. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”