Lesser Gods

by Adrian Howell

  “I guess they did,” I agreed.

  I used to believe that even mortal enemies deserved mercy, but after what the Angels did to Terry’s brother, and what the Slayers had done to me, I felt very little pity for any of them now. Charles had been the mild exception to the rule, but even he would have killed me had he been called upon to do so. Charles was dead too now, and I didn’t mourn his passing.

  I asked, “Did the Guardians find out anything about the Angels’ second master?”

  “I don’t think so,” Terry replied uncertainly, “but they’re still salvaging the data. Even if the Knights did discover Number Two’s name, they would keep a lid on it for now. If the Angels found out that we knew, no doubt they’d tighten up their security.”

  “I guess we’re all on need-to-know, huh?” I said disappointedly.

  I heard Cindy chortle. “You sound like you’re already itching for another mission, Adrian.”

  I scoffed at the notion. “I’m just curious, Cindy. I still have a sister over there, after all.”

  Cindy said, “Well, until you get your eyesight back, you’ll just have to trust the Guardians to help you with that. Meanwhile, it looks like the sister you have right here is about ready to fall asleep.”

  I heard Alia yawn quietly.

  “It’s past your bedtime anyway, Alia,” said Cindy, but just then, the phone rang.

  Cindy spoke over the phone with Mr. Baker for a few minutes, and then informed me that I no longer held the record as the youngest-ever Honorary Guardian Knight. I first thought that I was being stripped of my status for all the trouble I had caused, but it turned out that my record had simply been broken.

  “Next time,” I whispered into Alia’s ear, “if there ever is a next time, you’re coming with me.”

  I strongly suspected that my fighting days were finally over, but at least I owed her that. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t a difficult promise to make.

  I felt my sister’s body become heavier in my lap, and as I held her, I realized that New Haven’s newest and youngest Knight had fallen asleep.

  Chapter 8: Hope and Fear

  First to dreamland, Alia was also usually the first to wake in the house, so it was no surprise to me that the moment my eyes opened the next day, I heard her say cheerfully into my mind, “Good morning, Addy!”

  “Is it already?” I asked, blinking a few times in the murky light. For all I could see, it made little difference whether my eyes were open or shut, but it still felt normal to keep them open when I was awake.

  I got up from my bed and tried to picture which direction my dresser was in. Against the wall across from my bed, a little to the left. I touched the side of my bed again to make sure I was pointing in the right direction.

  “Clothes?” asked Alia.

  “Yeah,” I said, stepping forward slowly with my arms outstretched in front of me. It had been the same yesterday when I was alone in the bathroom, but everything seemed farther away when you couldn’t see it.

  “Come on,” I heard her say as she took my hand and led me forward.

  “I can find it myself,” I protested, but by then we were already at the dresser.

  “I’ll pick out your clothes, okay?”

  I guessed that my life was about to be filled with little embarrassments like this. Somehow, I was going to have to learn to take care of myself.

  Alia wouldn’t let me. She handed me my day clothes one at a time, telling me what they were in a way that reminded me of how the Slayer Charles used to announce my meals. When I put my head through my shirt, Alia laughingly informed me that I was doing it backwards.

  Once I was properly dressed, I felt along the wall with one hand and made for the door.

  “Where are you going?” asked my sister.

  “To the toilet! Do you mind?!”

  “I’ll take you,” she said, taking hold of my other hand.

  “No!” I said, pulling my hand free. “I can take care of myself.”

  “You can’t even dress yourself without me, Addy. Face it, you need me.”

  “I’ve always needed you, Alia,” I said soothingly. “What makes this any different from ever? But I can’t let you look after me all day. If you want to do me a real favor, please just back off for a while.”

  Alia didn’t reply, and I finally found the door and left the room.

  Once I was alone in the corridor, I discovered that it would have been a lot faster to let Alia lead me. Keeping one hand on the wall, I felt my way forward, taking increasingly small steps and wondering how much farther the bathroom door was. I was beginning to think that I had already passed it without noticing when my fingertips finally found the doorframe and handle.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. One small step toward self-reliance.

  It was another long journey back to the living room. This time I tried walking with my hands lowered, but I quickly found myself brushing up against the corridor wall. I couldn’t even walk straight without something to guide me. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

  As I entered the living room, I heard Terry say, “Where’s your guide dog, Adrian?”

  I laughed. “She’s tagging along at a distance to make sure I don’t get lost.”

  “You knew?!” Alia’s telepathic voice cried in dismay.

  “I can hear your footsteps, Alia,” I called back over my shoulder.

  Stretching my arms out, I stepped forward, groping around for the nearest sofa, but still caught my leg on the side of it. The sofa was lower than I remembered.

  I heard Cindy say, “We need to get you a proper cane, Adrian.”

  “I can smell breakfast,” I said, trying to use the scent of bacon and eggs to discover the direction of the dining room. Given enough time, I might have been able to, but my stomach was getting too impatient so I grudgingly accepted Alia’s leading hand.

  Once we were seated, Cindy said, “I have another meeting today, so Terry’s going to take you to the hospital ward, okay?”

  “I hope it’s not the dentist again,” I muttered, referring to the quirky Dr. Pales, one of several psionic healers working in shifts at the small healers’ office on the eighteenth floor of our building.

  “Oh, you’re not going to the healers today,” said Cindy. “They can’t take X-rays there anyway. Terry’s going to take you to the Guardian hospital in NH-3.”

  Alia passed me a plate, telepathically telling me what was on it, and then put a fork in my right hand.

  “I didn’t even know we had a hospital,” I said, using my fork to search for food on my plate.

  Terry laughed. “You’ve already been there twice this year, Adrian.”

  “I have?” I asked, giving up trying to fork my bacon and using my fingers instead.

  “Sure. You were unconscious both times, though. After the puppeteer incident and after your drowning, you were taken to the NH-3 hospital first and then moved to the healers’ office to recover.”

  “Oh...” I said. I had regained consciousness in Dr. Pales’s care both times, so I had always thought that the healers’ office was New Haven’s only medical facility. A proper hospital made sense though, since psionic healers couldn’t cure diseases.

  Cindy explained, “The Guardian hospital isn’t quite finished yet, but they have enough doctors, healers and equipment there to take care of most injuries and illnesses. Once it’s completed, I think they’re going to close the healers’ office downstairs and combine it into NH-3. That small office just can’t keep up with the increasing population.”

  “You mean the escalating war,” I said.

  Cindy didn’t reply to that, but Terry said, “Well, if the Knights kept going to a regular city hospital for their injuries, people might get suspicious. Anyway, this time you’re going there in a conscious state, so you’ll get to see where you’ve been.”

  “No I won’t,” I said dryly.

  I heard Terry chuckle. “Oh, yeah, I keep forgetting.”

  After b
reakfast, Terry handed me her jo stick again and led me out of the penthouse. It struck me as more than a little odd that my sister didn’t demand to tag along, but I didn’t want to ask why and risk sounding like I was pining for her company.

  Once the elevator doors closed, Terry said, “Alia is really hell-bent on babying you, isn’t she?”

  “With a vengeance,” I agreed, laughing. “I’m happy she didn’t try to come this time. I really have to learn to take care of myself.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way, Adrian. How’s your leg?”

  “It’s still a little stiff,” I replied lightly, “but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Good,” Terry said crisply, “because as soon as we’re done at the hospital, I want you back on the training schedule.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Why? Mission debriefing isn’t until 4pm anyway. We’ll have plenty of time.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” I said, wondering if it had once again slipped Terry’s mind that I was blind.

  Terry snapped at me, “You just said that you’re going to learn to take care of yourself!”

  “In the house, Terry,” I said patiently. “So that I can live as normal a life as I can. What good is combat training going to do when I can’t see anything?”

  “Let the doctors worry about your eyes, Adrian. You’re going to get your sight back, and when you do, I don’t want you all flabby.”

  Unwilling to accuse Terry of saying that just to make peace with her own guilty conscience, I kept my mouth shut as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Gripping my left arm, Terry led me across the lobby and out of the building.

  The instant the sunlight and mild morning air hit my face, I froze solid.

  “What’s the matter?” Terry asked in a surprised tone.

  I wasn’t sure. It should have felt great, being outdoors and free of the horrible memories of that basement room, but it didn’t. I felt like I was standing on a tiny raft floating on an ocean of nothingness.

  “Adrian?” Terry said again from my side.

  I swung the jo stick out in front of me, hoping it would catch on something solid, but there was nothing but flat, empty space. I felt myself break out in a cold sweat.

  “It’s just... It’s just so open out here,” I said, my voice quivering.

  “Come on, Adrian, you don’t even really need the stick when I’m leading you.”

  Terry released my arm and tried to take the jo stick out of my hands, but I refused to let go.

  Terry laughed and said, “You don’t trust me as much as you trust Alia.”

  “It’s not that,” I said, terrified and embarrassed at the same time.

  I didn’t trust anything out here. I could hear cars whizzing past me, sometimes blaring music from their windows. I could hear footsteps and the chattering of people walking this way and that, birds chirping, a bicycle bell, and so many other sounds that I couldn’t identify.

  I turned around on the spot, and suddenly I had no clue which direction the entrance to New Haven One was anymore. I wanted to crouch down on the sidewalk so that I wouldn’t topple over into the emptiness that surrounded me. Terry’s hand was lightly touching my back, but if she were to suddenly disappear, my heart might stop.

  “Take me back inside,” I begged.

  “Come on!” Terry said impatiently. “It’s only a short walk.”

  “Please, Terry, just take me back inside!”

  “Adrian,” Terry said firmly, “I refuse to believe that someone who has the guts to be made an Honorary Guardian Knight can’t take a short walk outside on a sunny day.”

  I was having trouble believing it myself, but the absurdity of it didn’t alleviate my panic. Being out here just wasn’t the same as groping along a narrow and familiar corridor.

  “Please, Terry! Oh, please!”

  “Adrian, trust me,” Terry said gently, holding my arm again. “One step at a time. You can do it.”

  “Don’t let go of me, Terry,” I breathed, trying to regain my calm. “Please don’t let go.”

  “I won’t. Just walk slowly, okay? Use the stick if it’ll make you feel better. I promise I’ll walk at your pace.”

  “Thanks,” I said faintly.

  Even amidst my fear, I realized that Terry was acting far more supportive than she usually was in the dojo. I took a step forward. And then another. Then I stopped again. Step, step, stop.

  The Guardian-owned building referred to as New Haven Three was usually only a five-minute walk away, but our journey took much longer. We walked at a snail’s pace, stopping frequently so that I could steady my breath. Terry kept her promise, and her hand stayed firmly on my arm.

  “You’re doing great,” said Terry. “How do you feel?”

  “Sick,” I breathed, but I knew that I was making progress nonetheless.

  The last hundred paces or so, I managed to walk at almost half a normal pace, and when the sounds around me changed and I knew that we were in the NH-3 lobby, I breathed easier. Even in an unfamiliar building, there was something comforting about having walls nearby.

  “I think this is about as much adventure as I can take right now, Terry,” I said weakly, but still smiling in relief.

  “Mission accomplished, Adrian,” Terry said in a cheerful voice. “It’ll be easier getting back, I hope. For now, let’s just get you into the hospital.”

  The Guardian hospital was spread through the second and third floors of NH-3. Terry explained that the construction was expanding into the fourth floor now, and they were knocking out the condominium walls there to create a larger long-term recovery ward as well as a psychiatric ward.

  “That’s where they’ll stuff you in a padded room if you don’t learn to master your fear, Adrian,” said Terry.

  “You try walking that distance with your eyes closed,” I said crossly, leaning on Terry’s jo stick.

  We took the stairs up from the lobby. I caught my foot on one of the steps and almost broke my knees, but Terry caught me and kept me from harm.

  On the second floor, Terry led me to what I assumed was the front desk of the hospital. Terry explained my situation to a woman there who already knew my name from my previous unconscious visits. The atmosphere felt like a typical hospital to me, except that I occasionally felt the presence of a psionic destroyer pass nearby and, more importantly, there was very little waiting time before I was called into an examination room. More questions, some pokes and prods, and then I was led to the radiology room for a series of X-rays.

  It was all quite tedious because I knew I was perfectly healthy. Alia had done her job well, and according to the doctors, all the tests ended up showing just that. Terry stayed as close to me as possible throughout the entire process, and I was tempted to jokingly accuse her of being as “hell-bent on babying me” as Alia. I thought better of it when I remembered that I still needed Terry to guide me home.

  “Now for the fun bit,” said Terry, leading me deeper into the maze of hospital corridors.

  She was referring to the optometrist – the eye doctor – that we were going to meet next.

  “I feel like I’m walking toward a firing squad,” I muttered nervously. “He’s going to tell me that I’m blind for life. I just know it.”

  “You do not, Adrian!” Terry said stubbornly. “There’s got to be something that can be done.”

  Terry was usually such a realist that I wondered if she already knew something I didn’t. “What makes you such an optimist today?” I asked.

  “It’s the only way I can see it.”

  I knew how that felt.

  The optometrist turned out to be a woman named Dr. Lauder, who had a slightly husky voice and a firm handshake. The first thing I didn’t like about her was that once the introductions were over, she called me by my first name but called Terry “Ms. Henderson.”

  After a few initial questions confirming that I couldn’t see distinct shapes at any distance, Dr. Lauder
led me to a small stool.

  “Sit here, Adrian,” she said. “Now lean forward a bit.”

  I felt something metallic touch my face. A moment later, my eyes were hit with a powerful white light.

  “Keep your eyes open please,” said Dr. Lauder. “Just let me see them. You can recognize light and dark, yes?”

  “Painfully,” I answered, squinting in the brilliant light.

  She didn’t take the hint, and the light stayed focused on my eyes.

  Once that was done, Dr. Lauder let out a quiet sigh and said, “Ms. Henderson, would you please escort Adrian to the waiting room and then come back in?”

  Terry replied in an icy tone, “Do you mean you want us to stretch our legs a bit? Or do you honestly think I’m going to leave Adrian in the waiting room and come back without him so we can talk behind his back? I’m his friend, not his mother! If there’s anything you can tell us about his situation, he has a right to hear it.”

  I smiled. There was nothing quite like having a Terry Henderson on your side.

  After a short but awkward silence, Dr. Lauder said, “What you really need to see is an ophthalmologist.”

  I laughed nervously. “I can’t even say that. What is it?”

  “A professional eye surgeon,” explained Dr. Lauder. “But in my opinion, the chances of you recovering even part of your eyesight through modern human medicine is very small. Most likely impossible.”

  Maybe Terry should have played mother after all. I felt Dr. Lauder’s words put a hole through my gut as painfully as if someone had shot me again.

  Dr. Lauder continued, addressing Terry, “As you can see quite clearly, Ms. Henderson, the trauma to Adrian’s eyes, caused by what you are most likely correct in assuming was a small knife or ice pick, has severely damaged the corneas, completely destroyed the function of the irises and lenses, as well as torn away parts of the retinas. It is a miracle he can even distinguish between light and shadow at all, and furthermore...”

  Dr. Lauder’s voice seemed increasingly far away as I stared off into nothingness. Before I came here, I had expected to hear no more and no less than what the optometrist was saying right now, but hearing it from her mouth suddenly made it all the more real.