Childhoods Lost (Sentinels Saga Book 2)

by Linn Schwab

  “I’m not convinced you could have pulled that off anyway. A threatening persona would just seem wrong on you. Your true nature has a way of coming to the surface. And besides, you’re kind of at the mercy of that leg wound right now. There’s a limit to how much of a threat you can be.

  “Speaking of which,” she said, reaching for his leg, “I should probably have another look at it now. Does it seem any more painful than before?”

  “No. It really doesn’t feel any different. But I expect it takes a while for something like this to heal.” As he watched her pull the cover off his wound, he found his eyes focusing on her face and hands. Her skin appeared to have a slight radiance to it that made his own skin look dull and lifeless by comparison. It was something he’d noticed about Lieutenant Marlowe as well, and the other girls he’d seen passing by the open doorway. All of them seemed to have a sheen to their skin that his mother would’ve referred to as a healthy glow.

  “What is it about your world,” he said, “that makes your skin look so much brighter than mine?” He placed his forearm next to hers to illustrate how striking the difference was between them. “Is it just the kind of food you eat, or something special about the soil it grows in?” The side of his arm gently brushed against hers. He made a conscious note of the fact that she didn’t flinch or pull away in alarm, but rather allowed the touch to linger for a time.

  “Who knows,” she said, looking into his eyes. “Perhaps it’s just a side effect of growing up in the light of different sun.”

  For an instant, both of them remained speechless as they wondered what was going through each other’s minds. But their thoughts were soon distracted by an awkward hopping sound as a young Sentinel limped in through the doorway in agony.

  “Oh no!” the major said with compassion. “Chrissy, what happened?” She rushed to the girl’s side and helped her walk to the cot across from Dave’s bed.

  The girl had tears in both of her eyes and appeared to be favoring her lower right leg. “I twisted my ankle on one of the ladders,” she said, struggling to draw shallow breaths between sniffles.

  Dave felt stricken with sympathy for her. The agony on her face was clearly evident. It was torture to just sit by and watch, helpless to do anything to ease her suffering. But it was her youth that troubled him more than anything. She was by far the youngest girl he’d since since arriving — perhaps only ten years old at the most. My god, she’s just a child! he thought, revisiting some of the battles he’d fought in. He vividly recalled firing rockets and bullets at the hulls of dozens of enemy warships. If there are girls her age on this station, he wondered, could they also be present on those ships I’ve been targeting? The possibility filled him with a sense of dread unparalleled by anything he’d previously experienced. If he learned he was responsible for killing children, he knew it was going to wreak havoc on his conscience.

  With Chrissy now sitting on the edge of the cot, Major Richards knelt down to examine her ankle. “Well, it doesn’t look too bad,” she said, applying gentle pressure to her lower leg.

  Chrissy winced and softly said, “Ow!”

  The major nodded and touched her on the knee. “But, it’ll probably be a little tender for a while.” She stood up and walked to a storage cabinet, then returned with a syringe filled with clear liquid. “I’ll give you a little dose of anesthetic,” she said. “In a few minutes, the pain should start to recede. It’s going to feel numb for a while afterward, though, so I wouldn’t recommend anymore running today. But, you should at least be able to walk on it after a few minutes.” She bent down and injected the liquid in Chrissy’s ankle, then advised her to remain seated on the cot for a while. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. I need to get some more syringes from supply. Make sure our prisoner doesn’t make a run for it while I’m gone, okay?” She gave Chrissy a reassuring smile, then discarded the syringe and walked out of the room.

  As the major’s footsteps receded in the distance, Dave scrutinized the young girl’s body language. She was obviously uncomfortable being left alone with him. Her arms were drawn tightly in against her sides and she was poised on the very edge of her cot, ready to make a run for it if she sensed any danger. She avoided looking at him directly, but he could tell she was watching him at the edges of her vision, keeping track of his position in relation to her own. The silence in the room added to a percolating tension that seemed to be growing stronger by the minute.

  Maybe this is my chance to get some answers, Dave thought, wondering if the girl might reveal something to him. He knew there was a chance he might frighten her away, but at this point he was desperate for some kind of reassurance that he hadn’t been shooting at girls her age. Propping himself up to get a better look at her, he cleared his throat as if preparing to speak. She tensed up immediately and turned her eyes closer to him.

  “Listen, uh ... Chrissy, is it?” he asked.

  She leaned a little further away from him and shifted her eyes toward the exit now.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Chrissy,” he said. “I was just wondering ... You seem a little young to be serving in the military. Do your parents know you’re here? I mean, do they approve of this?”

  Chrissy appeared to stew on his words for a moment, then looked him in the eyes and got to her feet. She approached him and read the name on his flight suit, then answered him in a mildly condescending manner. “Mr. Dave,” she said to him, uncertain how to properly address a man, “my parents are a test tube and a beaker. I really don’t care what they think. And I’m pretty sure they don’t care about me either.” With that, she turned her back on him and hobbled through the doorway on her left foot, dragging her sprained right ankle behind her.

  Stunned into silence by what she’d just told him, he watched her limp away from him, and tried to imagine what her life must be like. No parents? No Family? What is going on down on that planet? he wondered, troubled by visions of little girls being molded for the express purpose of combat. Rather than clearing things up for him, her response had left him with even more questions than before.

  As he pondered the nature of Chrissy’s existence, he suddenly realized why it bothered him that her people didn’t seem to have a name for grits. There was something disturbing about the idea that their lives were so completely focused on warfare that they couldn’t be bothered with something as basic as learning what the foods they ate might be called, or even if they had a name at all. “Does it really matter what they’re called?” the major had asked him. No, he decided, allowing his head to fall back on his pillow. To them, I’m sure it probably doesn’t. It just is what it is. Something to eat while they wait their turn to be killed in battle.

  Major Richards walked back in, carrying a carton of syringes in her hands. She glanced around the room in concern. “Where did Chrissy go?” she asked.

  Dave looked up at her and frowned. “She’s just as happy with me as Lieutenant Marlowe is,” he explained. “I seem to have a gift for chasing all of you away.”

  Virginia suddenly appeared in the doorway, clutching her upper left arm in discomfort. “Major,” she said, “this wound is really starting to hurt.”

  “Let’s have a look,” the major said.

  Virginia sat on the edge of the operating table and waited for the major to open her bandage. Dave had a feeling he might know what was wrong, but he wasn’t sure whether he should say anything.

  Major Richards peeled the bandage back and shook her head as she scrutinized the wound. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “For some reason, this wound just doesn’t want to heal. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

  Seeing the looks of concern on their faces, Dave decided he’d had enough. He no longer cared about safeguarding any secrets. He was ready to share anything he knew with them if it would win their trust and help bring an end to the fighting.

  “Listen, Virginia,” he said, “I think I might know what’s wrong with your arm. Did you by any chance
happen to tangle with some of those pilots you call Tiger Sharks?”

  Virginia looked at him and nodded.

  “What’s that got to do with this?” the major asked.

  Dave let out a sigh and continued. “I’ve heard rumors that our elite pilots are armed with a special kind of ammunition. Supposedly, the bullets they use are made from some sort of depleted isotope or something. It’s supposed to be denser than normal ammo so it can tear through stronger armored plating. But there’s a chance it might also be a little toxic. If there’s a fragment from one of those bullets in her arm, it might be what’s preventing that wound from healing.”

  Major Richards reached for a handheld scanner and passed it over Virginia’s arm. It made a noise that was impossible to misinterpret, even for those who were unfamiliar with the device. “Well,” she said, “it looks as if you might be right about that. There’s definitely a sliver of metal in there. I guess to be safe, I’m going to have to extract it.”

  * * * *

  With the rest of her battalion upstairs working on the guns, Robin sat by herself in the cafeteria trying to force herself to keep some food down. She felt that her strength was gradually returning, but she wasn’t ready yet to resume fitness training, or perform any strenuous manual labor. At the other side of the cafeteria, Janine sat alone at another table, tapping away at her Archive Interface. After watching her work from a distance for a while, Robin decided that Janine’s company was better than having no company at all. She scooped her tray up and got to her feet, then walked across the room and sat down with her.

  “Captain Starling,” Janine greeted her politely, “are you feeling any better yet?”

  “A little,” Robin replied. She gestured toward the interface in curiosity. “What are you working on now?”

  Janine rubbed her eyes and glanced down at the screen. “I’m going through Commander Stinson’s archive searches to see if I can determine how she found the word Valgrind. If she encountered it while searching for something else, it might give us some idea what her intentions were. But so far, I’m not having any luck. I don’t suppose you might have any suggestions?”

  Robin frowned and shook her head. “No. Can I ask you something, though?”

  “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  “When you were reading that entry, about Valhalla being a place where fallen warriors go, was there any mention about it being on a mountain?”

  “No. Are you thinking it should be, for some reason?”

  “No. I was just curious. It seems like that might be a good place for it, though. Way up high. I’ve never been on a mountain. Have you?”

  “No, I haven’t. There were mountains near my academy complex, but they were too far away to be reached on foot.”

  “Was your academy close to the ocean?” Robin asked.

  Janine suddenly crossed her arms and grinned. “You know what, Robin,” she said, “as someone who’s specialty involves questioning people without telling them exactly what I’m looking for, it’s fairly easy for me to recognize when someone’s trying to use that tactic on me. You’re welcome to continue with that approach if you like. But I want you to be aware that I know what you’re up to, and I’m likely to figure out what it is that you’re after. So if it’s something you don’t want me to know about, you might want to stop before you go any further. Otherwise, you might as well just be open with me. That way, you’ll at least save us both a lot of time.”

  Robin fell silent and gazed down at the tabletop. She was curious about the strange dream she kept having, and the troubling feeling she’d experienced in the map room. But she did not want to reveal anything to Janine that might cast doubt on her mental stability. I just went through one investigation, she told herself. The last thing I need is for her to think I might be crazy.

  “It’s alright,” Janine assured her. She could see that Robin was reluctant to continue. “Just let me know if and when you change your mind. I’ll be stationed here on Volaris with you at least until the commander’s shuttle returns.”

  * * * *

  “There it is,” Major Richards said. With her tweezers, she managed to extract the metal splinter. She dropped the bloody fragment in a glass dish, then set the tweezers down and began to close Virginia’s wound.

  “Do you think it’ll heal now?” Virginia asked, making a point to keep her eyes turned the other way.

  “I think so,” the major said. “I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t. There now,” she said, finishing up. “Let’s get you over to the cot.” She helped Virginia get to her feet and steadied her as she walked to the cot. “Just lie down here for a while. You might feel a little dizzy until the anesthetic wears off.”

  Virginia laid down on the cot and rested her hands on her abdomen.

  “Is she gonna be okay?” Dave asked.

  “We’ll have to wait and see,” the major said. “By the way, I’d like to say thank you, Lieutenant. It was very kind of you to let us know about those bullets.”

  “Call me Dave,” he said, smiling at her. “And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t help the girl who saved my life.”

  The major returned his smile and felt her face start to flush for an instant. “You know,” she said, remembering she needed to test him for the virus, “I’ve been thinking about what you said to me earlier. About the difference in the appearances of our skin. I’d like to take a blood sample from you so I can run a few tests and see what I come up with.” She retrieved a fresh syringe and walked to Dave’s side. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

  “I’m just as curious as you are,” he said. “And besides, how could I say no to someone as pretty as yourself?”

  She moved closer and prepared his arm, then inserted the needle and drew a sample. “Do me a favor,” she said, extracting the syringe when the draw was complete. “I’m going to be in the lab for a while. Try not to chase Virginia off while I’m gone, like you did with Lieutenant Marlowe and Chrissy.”

  “You have my word, I’ll do my best not to,” he said. “Should I tackle her if she tries to leave?”

  “I’ll leave that up to you,” she said. “But with your leg in that condition, I really wouldn’t recommend it.”

  As Major Richards walked to the lab, she noticed her thoughts seemed to be out of focus. The need to test the sample was being challenged for precedence by something Dave had just said to her: “...how could I say no to someone as pretty as yourself?” She just couldn’t seem to shake those words from her head. Her feet continued to carry her forward as if they’d been set on autopilot. Eventually, she found herself in the lab, standing in front of the analyzer — still holding the vial of blood in her hands.

  How long have I been standing here? she wondered, looking around herself in bewilderment. And how did I even get here in the first place? It seemed as if time had slipped her by without notice. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a mirror on the wall. She set the sample aside for a moment while she paused to take a closer look at her reflection. He thinks I’m pretty, she told herself. Her hands reached up to brush a few strands of hair into place. She thought back over their earlier conversations and tried to recall everything he’d said to her before. Suddenly, it all seemed to fall into place: the look in his eyes — the gestures of kindness — the little compliments that hadn’t seemed to make any sense. He’s been trying to tell me he’s interested in me! And I just didn’t comprehend it until now!

  At first, she wasn’t quite sure how to feel. It was satisfying to know he found her attractive. But she questioned whether she could ever fall in love with an Earthling. It didn’t take long for her to see the answer, though. The expression on her face was a dead giveaway. No wonder my thoughts are so mixed up. I already feel something for him.

  The blood sample suddenly resurfaced in her thoughts. She looked at it now with a feeling of dread, realizing it could bring a swift end to this wonderful feeling she’d just been exposed to. Her heart began to race as she
reached for the vial. Her hands quivered as she placed a few drops on a slide. She held her breath and prayed for a negative reading as she slid the tray into its slot on the analyzer. Several agonizing seconds passed by as the analyzer compiled the results of its reading. When it finally responded with an audible chime, the major opened her eyes and scrolled through the summary report on the screen. The findings left her devastated. The virus was clearly present in his blood, and his body appeared to have no defense against it. Unless some kind of miracle occurred, she would now be forced to watch helplessly as the virus pulled him in a downward spiral, leading to debilitating weakness and death. She felt her legs begin to grow weak, and looked around herself for a chair to sit down in.

  A display on the wall counted off the minutes passing by as Major Richards sat all alone in the lab, staring at the vial of blood in her hands. Shortly after the midday meal period started, Commander Eldridge came looking for her.

  “Well,” the commander said, “do we know anything yet? Did you manage to get another sample from him?”

  Major Richards nodded and got to her feet. “He’s contracted the virus,” she said. “It’s already running rampant through his bloodstream.”

  The commander nodded and lowered her head. “I see,” she said, expressing sympathy. “I’m sorry, Major. It’s fairly obvious you’ve become somewhat attached to him. How much longer do you think he has?”

  “Three or four weeks if he’s lucky. That’s just based on what I remember from the archives.”

  “Is he showing any outward symptoms yet?”

  “Not yet. But it probably won’t be long now. Maybe another week at the most.”

  The commander crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of a table. The look on her face suggested she was seriously contemplating something.

  “What are you thinking?” Major Richards asked.

  “That maybe there’s a way we can use this against them. If we can figure out a way to get him back to his fleet.”

  The major appeared to be appalled by the suggestion. “Why would we want to do that?” she asked.