"Desruisseaux, where do you think you're going?"
"I am going on the ambulance with Nemo because I don't want a child to go through this traumatic experience alone. Unlike everyone else in this room, I actually care about his well being."
"If you leave, President Brightman will have you arrested."
"Then tell him where to find me."
* * *
Nemo stirred awake below the scratchy blue hospital sheets as the monitors beeped beside the bed. He opened his eyes to see Tobias asleep in the chair by the window, his pale blond hair hanging down into his eyes and a cup of steaming coffee on the windowsill. He tried to sit up, but thick straps around his chest held him to the bed. Nemo whimpered at first, then began kicking and crying in his growing panic.
Tobias woke up and rushed to him. "Hey, Nemo, calm down. You're okay. You're fine. They only strapped you down so it would be easier to pump coolant into your veins."
Nemo collapsed back against the pillows, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat. "Do they know?"
"About what? You being part computer? Yes, they know. They even brought in a specialist to ensure you would be properly taken care of. Elysia recently adopted the same laws protecting androids and artificial beings that Darkshot has. While not entirely regarded as being human, you have been granted certain rights and protections by law. We are making progress. You are in good hands here."
"What happened to me?" Nemo asked, reaching over for his cup of ice chips.
"According to the doctors and the computer engineers, you had a panic attack that triggered your system to overheat. Some coolant and rest have done the trick." Tobias took the paper cup and fed Nemo spoonfuls of ice chips. "I'm sorry we had to put you through all that."
"Why did we do it then?"
Tobias sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Because the president would have me tortured until I made you. It is out of our control. We're both victims here, Nemo. I have to make sure you do these propaganda commercials. You are the face of the war effort against Azimandia. We have to spread the word that Elysia needs resources and money to save humanity."
Nemo crunched on some ice between his tiny white teeth. "So we're slaves."
"I would not use that word . . . but . . . yes. Awe, don't get sad. We're in this together. I swear I won't let anything bad happen to you."
Nemo looked up at the white flag with the eagle and laser rifles above his bed. "We're on Elysia, right?"
"Yep, that's right. The capital of all humanity. We can go see the memorials and the capital grounds once you're out of here if you would like. There is so much I could show you. It could be both fun and educational. Maybe you could get some inspiration for your next painting."
"No. I wanna go to the flight force base. I wanna find my daddy. That's why they gave me that flag, right? He's in the military now. I wanna fly like him."
"Nemo, I need to tell you something about your father. The military gives flags to the family members of fallen soldiers and pilots. They gave you that flag because . . . because he's not coming back. Rav Tillman's Star Streaker was shot down over the Elysian wheat fields during a routine training exercise. He was in the air when Azimandian fighters invaded the airspace."
Nemo did not cry. He did not do anything. He stayed there, looking ahead at the bleak wall of the hospital room as the news of his father's fate washed over him.
Tobias set the paper cup back down on the metal side table. "Your father was a hero. He shot down two enemy fighters, giving the Flight Force enough time to scramble their forces and send alerts across the planet. He saved untold numbers of lives."
He had no idea what to think, so he said the first thing that came to mind. "I'm an orphan."
"Yes, but you will be taken care of. I'm here to protect you and ensure that you have everything you need. You still have family on Darkshot who will take you in after the war is over. You will never be alone."
"Can you get the straps off me?" Nemo wriggled under the bindings. "I gotta pee."
"Okay."
After Tobias released the straps, Nemo slid off of the bed. His bare feet quietly tapped on the cold tiles as he walked to the window.
"Nemo, the bathroom is back over here by the door."
He only had one thing on his mind. "I want to look outside."
"Be careful. I don't want you falling. We're on the twelfth floor."
"I know." Nemo slid the glass panel open then climbed up onto the windowsill. He closed his eyes as he stood and tiptoed to the edge where the rough brown bricks prickled on his toes. The cold wind sent goosebumps across his body that was covered in only the thin white hospital gown. The warm light radiated down onto him from the pale blue and grey sky where fighter planes flew through wispy clouds high in the atmosphere. In that moment, he said a final prayer to be reunited with his father.
"Nemo, get down from there. Come back inside. It's not safe for you to be out there."
Nemo held out his arms and took one deep breath before stepping off the ledge.
"Nemo! Nemo, no!"
Chapter 2
Masamba Adebayo's soft-soled flight boots thudded on the insulated steel walkway that ran between the two rows of standing metal and plastic tubes. The small windows on the front of each one allowed the scientists to observe the patients frozen inside the Vitalanum and liquid nitrogen mixture. Masamba walked to the end where one of the tubes was draped with an elaborate Elysian flag, complete with gold fringe. The electronic panel showed the name of the brave soul encased inside the icy fluid. Flight Master Rav Avery Tillman.
Masamba's dark skin glowed in the blue fluorescent light coming from the ceiling as he held up a silver medal with two wings on a dark blue ribbon. "Rav Tillman, you are hereby awarded the Silver Wings of Defense for your bravery and flight skills. You have proven yourself worthy to wear the wings of a flight master. Your country thanks you for your service."
He pinned the medal on the flag then looked through the panel to see the red-haired man inside. "Oh, Rav . . . I apologize for everything. If I had known that Azimandia had fighter planes anywhere near our airspace, I never would have sent you up. I cannot lose another pilot under my command."
"It looks like you won't be losing him today." A female doctor in a lab coat stepped up behind him and went to the console next to Rav's cryostasis tube. She brought up the diagnostic information and medical records. "We have decided to begin the thawing process. After three days, Mr. Tillman's oxygen levels are at acceptable levels and the nanobots have completed eighty percent of their repair operations. We cleared the Olonictic hive warriors out of his body and ran another scope through his brain."
"And? What have you found?"
"Missing or damaged areas in his frontal lobe, occipital lobe, and the cerebellum. It's old damage and scar tissue. Surprisingly, he does not appear to have any lingering issues from the remove of those parts. It's almost as if there had been hardware implanted to replace what was removed at one time, but it has since been removed."
"So Rav is-"
She nodded her head, sending a curl of blond hair free from her bun. "He is human. Well, human and Olonictic. Basically, there are no artificial components in his body, but there is ample evidence that there was computer hardware in his brain at one time over ten years ago."
"Interesting development. This thawing process, is it dangerous?" Masamba asked, watching the doctor punching buttons on the consoles with her long red nails.
"Extremely. We have to electrify the Vitalanum molecules and send thermal pulses through the cryo mixture in order to raise the temperature very slowly. We will monitor the cells in Mr. Tillman's body to ensure that cellular respiration and every other bodily function returns to normal working status at the correct time. The Vitalanum ensures that the structures of his cells were not harmed during freezing. Then once the temperatures are elevated to optimal levels, we will induce electric pulses into Mr. Tillman's heart and brain until he essentially comes back to life."
"Technically, yes. All brain functions have been suspended and his heart stopped even before we put him into the cryochamber. We had to report him as deceased because this is still an experimental procedure."
"Have his chances of recovery been updated?"
The doctor smiled and tapped her stylus pen against the screen. "It appears that his Olonictic blood has made this process more successful than any of us first believed. I am extremely proud to give Mr. Tillman a ninety percent chance of recovering with the majority of his primary functions."
"That is encouraging news. When will he be released from the cryochamber?"
"Tomorrow night at the earliest. Will you want to be here when he is brought back?"
Absolutely. There was nowhere else he would have rather been. "Please. This technology has always fascinated me. Do send word as soon as it begins. In the meantime, I will be preparing his residence on base for his return. Shall I inform Viktor Cyrino?"
"Not yet. There is still no guarantee that this will go smoothly. During the thawing process, any number of things can go devastatingly wrong. Strokes, cardiac arrest, brain hemorrhage, or countless other complications have arisen before. These is no need to get anyone's hopes up just to have those hopes dashed. On top of that, nearly every patient to have been brought back out of cryostasis experienced severe PTSD, anxiety, and a host of other mental complications. Those patients are all currently in the mental health wing of the hospital under isolation lock down."
"That is not acceptable."
She flashed another bright smile at him. "But don't you worry, Masamba. Your flight master is in the capable hands of top medical experts."
"He has a son."
"That is why we are going to do all we can to bring Mr. Tillman back and in healthy condition. Do you have any questions now, Masamba?"
He crossed his arms on his white and gold flightsuit. "Not at this point in time. While I am here, can I get a dose of coolant? My temperatures have been elevated the past few days and I have a constant ticking sound coming from my motherboard."
"Head down to robotics and tell them to run a full diagnostic scan. I'm sure you have some pending updates as well."
"Thank you, doctor." Masamba took a few steps towards the exit, but he stopped. "Take care of Rav. He is . . . he is my friend."
"I know." She winked at him. "I will do what I can. We all will."
* * *
Tobias's heart stopped. He stood there in the hospital room with his mouth agape and his knees quivering. What just happened? One moment, Nemo was right there in the window. The next, he was gone. Without wasting another second, Tobias raced out of the room and to the elevators. He punched the button to call one, but it was taking far too long. He did not have time for that wait. With a cold sweat beading up on his forehead, Tobias ran down the side stairwell, jumping down four and five steps at a time. He threw the emergency door open and dashed out into the busy street.
He went to the side of the building, expecting to see the crowd of concerned onlookers, emergency workers, and the bloody mess of a dead child, but there was nothing. The sidewalk was clear. With his hand over his mouth, Tobias looked up to see the open window on the twelfth floor from where Nemo had jumped. It was the correct side of the hospital building, but there was no Nemo. Where had he gone? How could a boy fall to his death only to vanish before hitting the ground? He dropped to his knees and placed his hand on the cold concrete.
Passersby whispered to each other as they sent questioning looks at the obviously distraught Frenchman. A few offered to help or call him a cab, but most of them hurried by, thinking he was a vagrant or a drunk. A crowd began to gather to watch him pounding his fists and forehead into the sidewalk.
Tobias's frustration boiled to near uncontrollable levels. "I'm losing my mind. I'm going crazy. That's it, Tobias. You've lost all your marbles this time. What is wrong with me? Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec moi?"
"Sir, do you need a ride somewhere?" A young woman in a yellow sundress held out her hand to him. "I have a hovercar parked nearby."
"No. I'm just . . . looking for someone . . . I guess. I mean . . . I think I'm looking for him. I don't know anything anymore."
The woman bent down and held out her pink glitter-covered communicator. "Here. You can use it to call anyone you need to call. I'm Brooke."
Tobias slammed his forehead against the concrete one last time before he sat back on his knees and looked at the twenty-something woman with the long black hair and glasses that framed her almond-shaped brown eyes. "Thank you, but I do not know who to call."
"Who are you looking for? Are they a patient here?"
Tobias stood up and held his head in his hands as he attempted to gather his thoughts. "He's a boy. Six years old. Blond, green eyes, pale skin."
Her smile temporarily faded. "You mean the one who died here yesterday from jumping out of a twelfth-story window?"
"What? Yesterday?"
"Yeah. It was really sad. Here, I'll pull up the news article for you." Brooke typed in her communicator then held it out to show him the article that covered the screen. "See? Yesterday. Nemo Tillman. Apparently he was some sort of artist from Darkshot or something. So much talent and potential lost so early. What could make a child kill himself like that? It's a horrible world we live in. They are looking for a man last seen with him as the potential killer. If you ask me, I don't believe any of the reports of suicide. I believe Nemo was pushed."
The vibrant colors of the bustling street swirled in Tobias's vision as he became lightheaded from all the information. "What is today's date?"
"December ninth. A Thursday."
"Thursday? No, that's impossible." Tobias fished in the pockets of his purple coat to pull out his small notebook. He flipped through the coffee-stained pages until he found the one he was looking for. "Right here. Filming with Nemo on the battlefield and church scenes on Wednesday. That happened this morning."
"Today is Thursday, though. It has been Thursday all day. Are you feeling all right, sir?"
What was happening? Nothing made sense. "No, no I'm not all right. Not at all. An entire day of my life has disappeared. And you said that boy died?"
"Yes. It was all over the news."
"I think I need to get to the morgue and investigate."
"The morgue?" Brooke asked, starting to sound irritated at him. "Why there? No, let me take you home. Do you live around here?"
"Go on without me. I'm good. I have some work to do." Tobias turned away from the woman and started inside the sliding glass door at the hospital entrance when he heard the all too familiar click of a handgun being cocked behind him.
"I wouldn't step inside those doors if I were you, Tobias Desruisseaux."
Tobias went to put his hands up, but Brooke stopped him.
"Hands down. I have a silenced .22 pistol one inch from your spine hidden inside the pocket of my dress. No one knows except you and me. Unless you want to be a bloody mess on this concrete, I highly suggest you slowly turn around and head straight to the pink hovercar two parking spots over to the right below the streetlight. Don't make any sudden moves or noises. We are a loving couple taking a walk down the street. Play along or I paralyze you right here, right now."
Tobias jumped when Brooke's pistol was pressed against his back and she took his arm. He took the hint and slowly stated walking towards the round hovercar with the yellow stripe down the middle. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"No questions. Now smile and look like you're enjoying yourself. We're on a date, remember?"
He did his best to fake a smile and play along, but his hands were trembling uncontrollably. Who was this woman? What day was it? Where was Nemo?
"Oh, honey, you're so happy about our engagement that you're shaking. You should have known I would say yes. My father was concerned about t
he age difference, but he truly does like you." Brooke leaned closer and whispered harshly in his ear. "Open the trunk and step inside when no one is looking. Act like you're searching for a suitcase."
Tobias stopped behind the pink hovercar and lifted the trunk door. The insides had been stripped down and hollowed out to make it spacious enough for the the various handcuffs, cinder blocks, and small plastic barrels labeled as hydrofluoric acid and chloroform. That was it. He was going to die.
"Get in. Say you're looking for my suitcase."
Tobias glanced around helplessly then crawled inside the trunk. His voice wavered as he squeaked out what words he could think of. "Where did you put your suitcase, dearest? It has to be in here."
"Here, let me help." Brooke retrieved a roll of hot pink duct tape from an inside panel. "Stay still. Close your eyes if you value your eyesight."
Tobias clenched his eyes tightly as the duct tape was wound across his eyes, behind his head, over his mouth, and back over again. By the time Brooke was finished, he could not see, he was gagged, and his neck was immobilized. Three sets of handcuffs were locked around his wrists, forearms, and upper arms, and two more attached his ankles to the floor of the trunk. His hands were then taped together, ensuring he could not free himself with any amount of struggling.
"There we are. And yes, I confiscated your hidden communicator inside your coat and your electronic lock pick. I'm not stupid. Enjoy the ride, Desruisseaux."
The trunk was slammed shut and the engine stared, lifting the hovercar off of the pavement. The scent of burning Vitalanum fuel filled the trunk. Tobias thrashed against the handcuffs and duct tape as the fumes grew overwhelming. The more he panicked, the more he breathed in until the toxins took their toll and he slumped down in his unconsciousness.
Chapter 3
Slayven spread the quilt across the massive bed then fluffed the pillows. He took two pink squares of soap from his white apron pocket and arranged them on the pillow before going to the full-length mirror to check his appearance. He had to always look presentable for the warbringer he was serving. His feathered black hair was smooth and hung around his shoulders, his pale grey skin and blue spots were clear and dirt-free, and his slant-pupil purple eyes were blood-shot but not overly tired-looking. It would have to work. There was not time to get a shower.
The Genesis Sequence Books 6-10 Page 15