“...which means, of course, that there’s a good chance he will gradually lose his ability to see light in anywhere from a few weeks to a year. Now, I will pass these photos on to an ophthalmologist for a second opinion, but I suggest you do not raise your hopes up too high.”
“There’s really nothing?” I asked hoarsely.
Dr. Lauder replied quietly, “The only real cure for damage of this magnitude is regenerative healing.”
Terry said angrily, “If there was a regenerative healer alive today, Doctor, I wouldn’t be wearing this ridiculous plastic hand!”
I was still in a bit of a daze when Terry escorted me out of Dr. Lauder’s office.
“It’s official,” I mumbled.
“Nothing is ever official, Adrian.” Terry squeezed my arm and added vehemently, “Just one stupid doctor’s opinion. She’s not even psionic, the fat cow!”
Somehow I doubted that not being psionic had anything to do with Dr. Lauder’s diagnosis or Terry’s opinion of it.
As we walked back toward the stairs leading to the building lobby, I asked, “What’s a regenerative healer?”
“Nothing,” Terry said in a forced calm. “Just a fool’s hope.”
“Even a fool’s hope is better than none, Terry,” I said. “Tell me, please.”
“It’s just what it sounds like. It’s a healer that can recreate lost body parts, re-grow bones and organs.”
“I know healers are rare but–”
“Adrian! Don’t you get it?! Regenerative healers are like the Holy Grail. They just don’t exist! The last regenerative healer ever known died over five hundred years ago.”
“Then they do exist,” I insisted.
“Existed,” corrected Terry.
“What happened to your optimism?” I asked in an annoyed tone.
“There’s a difference between being hopeful and being a blind dreamer, Adrian. If there was a regenerative healer alive today–”
“You wouldn’t be wearing the hand,” I said resignedly. “I heard you the first time.”
“Well, it’s true. But don’t worry, I’m sure there’re still other options.”
“Like what?”
“We’ll find something,” Terry said resolutely.
“Are my eyes really that damaged?” I asked, remembering the words Dr. Lauder had used to describe them.
“Relax, Adrian. As long as you keep your eyes closed, you don’t look any uglier than usual. By the way, did you know that you’re not wearing your headband today?”
That little detail had completely slipped my mind.
Terry said, “At least your hair is a little longer now.”
Down the stairs, out the lobby, and once again into the empty void of the outside world. Terry was less patient with me on our way back to New Haven One, but I was also just a bit faster on my feet. Even so, the short odyssey left me breathless and shivering under the hot sun.
“We’re at the entrance, Adrian, but it’s still a little early for lunch,” said Terry. “How about we go for a jog in the park?”
I shook my head. “No, Terry. Let’s just go inside.”
“Come on, Adrian. If you can walk, you can run. I’ll guide you.”
“No!” I said so loudly that passersby might have been stopping to stare. “Please, Terry! Just take me back upstairs.”
Terry dropped the supportive tone, saying heatedly, “You can’t hide inside forever!”
“That’s what you think,” I told her.
“Fine! This way to your cave, Addy.”
Terry roughly led me back into the elevator, and I could hear the frustration in her movements as she jabbed the button for the fortieth floor.
We rode up in silence, and as the elevator car slowed, Terry said crossly, “Alright, get out!”
The doors opened, and Terry shoved me out of the elevator.
I asked, “What about you?”
“I’m going down to practice some shooting. I don’t feel like lying around.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a coward, Terry.”
“Never you mind,” Terry said stiffly. “You’re probably better off living peacefully anyway.”
I heard the elevator doors quietly close, and Terry was gone. I dejectedly ran my right hand along the wall from the elevator until I found the front door to the penthouse.
The door was locked. I could’ve just pushed the doorbell, but I still felt the sting of Terry’s words. I pulled out my door key and, with some trial and error, eventually managed to turn the lock.
The moment I entered the living room, I heard Alia say happily into my head, “Addy! Addy! You’re home!”
“Hey, Alia,” I said quietly. “Where’s Cindy?”
“She’s still at her meeting. Where’s Terry?”
“Downstairs.”
“Oh,” Alia said disappointedly, and then after a short pause, she asked, “Do you notice something different about me, Addy?”
“I’m blind as a bat, Ali,” I reminded her. “How could I notice anything at all?”
“Oh, right. Well, come here.”
“Alia, if you don’t speak with your mouth, I can’t tell where you are.”
“Sorry,” Alia said aloud, and then saved me the trouble of finding her by trotting up to me. “Now touch me.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly, reaching out toward her. “What am I looking for?”
“You’ll see.”
Alia let out a giggle as my fingers found what felt like her sides. “Higher, Addy.”
“Is this your chin?”
“Yes. You’re getting closer.”
I felt around her face, and then her head. Finally, I found it, and understood why my sister had chosen to stay home today. “Cindy cut your hair.”
I felt Alia nod her head. “Just like Terry’s!”
I ran my fingers more carefully down her hair. It was still a bit longer than Terry’s, and touched Alia’s shoulders a little, but it was shorter than half of what it used to be.
“I wanted to cut it for a while now, but Cindy kept talking me out of it.”
“I wish I could see it.”
“You will as soon as your eyes are fixed,” Alia said cheerily. “Long hair was a real bother during my Raven missions. Now I won’t have to bother doing it up.”
Surprised, I asked, “Are you planning on joining the Ravens permanently?”
“Of course I’m not!” Alia sounded indignant. “I wouldn’t have gone with them at all except to find you, Addy. It was really horrible. They killed all the Slayers, even the ones I could have saved.”
So that was why Alia had silently stood by while Mr. Baker and I discussed Charles’s execution. She had already known that it was futile to ask the Knights to show mercy on the Slayers.
“I’m really sorry I put you through that, Alia,” I said.
“It’s okay. I hope I never have to go on another Guardian mission again, but the next time you go on a mission, Addy, I’m definitely coming with you.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “So you did hear what I said last night. I thought you might have already been asleep.”
“You did mean it, didn’t you?” Alia asked in an anxious tone.
“Of course I did,” I replied softly. “But Alia, look at me. Do I look like I’m about to ship off on another Guardian mission tomorrow?”
“You’ll get your eyesight back, Addy. Terry said so.”
“Terry’s just saying that, Alia. The doctor...” my voice trailed off. It had been bad enough hearing from the optometrist that I would be permanently blind. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud just yet. In all honesty, I felt like crying my guts out, but I wasn’t about to let my sister see that.
“Are you okay, Addy?”
“Just a little sad,” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure what hurt more right now: my blindness or Terry’s bitter, disappointed tone when I begged her to take me back inside.
I felt my sister’s arms around me.
“Thanks, Alia,” I said, hugging her back. “I needed that.”
Alia carefully led me to a couch and we sat quietly for a minute.
When I had asked Terry the source of her optimism, she answered that it was the only way she could see it. That’s exactly how I knew Cat was still alive. I had no proof whatsoever that my first sister was with the Angels – just Ralph Henderson’s word. I hadn’t seen Cat in two years. But I knew she was alive, because that was the only way I could see it.
“You really like Terry, don’t you?” I said quietly.
“She’s like my big sister, Addy,” said Alia. “Just like you’re my brother.”
I nodded. I never thought of Terry as a sister, but she was my friend, and in many ways, family.
“Do me a favor, Ali,” I said. “Take my elevator key, go down to the subbasement and look for Terry. She’ll probably be in the shooting range. Find her and bring her back here.”
“You’re not coming?”
I shook my head. I wanted a moment alone before I met Terry. “You’ll be faster on your own, Alia.”
My sister was only gone a few minutes, but it gave me time to steady my nerves a bit.
“Adrian?” called Terry’s voice. “This had better be important.”
Getting up from the couch, I said as casually as I could, “Let’s go jogging.”
Terry said, “I think Cindy will be back in thirty minutes or so. How about after lunch?”
“Now, Terry,” I said determinedly. “Please, before I lose my nerve.”
“You sure you’re not going to freak out again the moment we step outside?”
I shook my head. “No promises, but I’ll try.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Terry said happily. “Alia, you too, just in case he gets hurt. I’ll write a memo for Cindy. Adrian, hold your sister’s hand until we’re at the park. No stick this time.”
When I touched the sunlight outside the NH-1 lobby, I found myself once again standing on a vast ocean of nothingness, but I was flanked by Terry on my left and Alia on my right, firmly holding my hands and keeping me from sinking. And this time, I knew I was here by choice. No one was forcing me to do this. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes. Somehow, it just felt better with my eyelids shut, and my heart pounded a little less loudly.
“Which way is the park?” I asked.
“This way,” said Terry, leading me along. At first she was tugging a little, but soon my legs matched her pace.
We arrived more quickly than I expected. Terry and Alia guided me to one of the asphalt jogging paths that snaked its way around the large park. There weren’t many straights, and if I strayed off the path, I might hit a tree or bench before my feet recognized the grassy ground.
So what?! asked an irate voice in my head. Since when were you worried about getting hurt?
Terry asked, “Okay, who’s going to lead you, me or Alia?”
“You,” I replied. “Alia isn’t going to be able to keep up.”
“I can too!” said Alia.
We started walking, Terry guiding me with her right hand on my left elbow. The footsteps told me that Alia was following close behind.
“This is hardly a jog, Adrian,” said Terry.
“I’m getting there.”
Faster. Still not a jog, but a brisk walk.
A hundred or so fast steps forward, and Terry said, “Come on, pick it up!”
“I’m trying,” I said through gritted teeth.
Terry was keeping me on the asphalt, gently pushing or pulling at my elbow to warn me of the curves in the path. It wasn’t the road that I feared. It wasn’t the possibility of a crash. What was I afraid of?
Suddenly I felt Alia’s hands on my back. She pushed me hard from behind, and I stumbled forward, barely keeping myself from falling on my face. But my legs didn’t slow down. I managed to maintain the pace that my sister had forced me into.
“Now we’re jogging,” Alia said cheerfully.
Terry kept pace with me, still guiding me left and right, never forward or back. Suddenly it felt good too, to be outside and running under the sun’s blazing rays. I was running too fast for my fear to keep up with me.
Faster!
I broke into a sprint. It was the most exhilarating feeling, like being on a rollercoaster, and it reminded me of my very first telekinetic night flight.
“Wait for me!” Alia cried in my head, and I could no longer hear her feet. She was far behind me.
“That’s more like it!” shouted Terry, her breath much steadier than mine but nevertheless a bit short.
I howled in delight as we thundered down the winding path. If my body could have managed it, I might have kept running forever. Eventually, shortness of breath forced me back into a walk, and I collapsed onto the path, panting. Terry hauled me onto the grass, and I lay there on my back, basking in the joy of freedom and laughing like an idiot. I didn’t care what anyone might have thought.
“Now that’s the crazy Adrian that busted me out of jail!” Terry said approvingly.
“Addy!” Alia shouted in my mind as her footsteps rushed up to me. “That’s dangerous!”
“I know, Ali,” I said breathlessly. “Next time, don’t push me so hard.”
Terry said, “You need to learn to pace yourself, Adrian.”
“Teaching me that is the job of my combat instructor,” I replied, getting to my feet. “Let’s go again.”
We kept it to a normal jog this time, and only returned to the penthouse when Alia complained that her feet were about to fall off.
“What were you three up to?” Cindy asked upon our return.
Terry laughed. “You don’t want to know!”
“Well, what did they say at the hospital?”
Terry suddenly became uncomfortably silent, so I answered in her stead, “I’m in perfect health, Cindy, except that the eye doctor said I’m blind for life.”
“Oh, that horrible cow!” Terry spat angrily. “She’s not even an opto-whatever. She’s not even an eye surgeon! And she told us to go find a regenerative healer, of all things! Stupid ignorant dreamer!”
“Hmm...” said Cindy. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”
I said calmly, “The doctor said she’ll send pictures of my eyes to a proper eye surgeon, and she’ll call in a few days. But she said it was hopeless.”
“I’m sorry, Adrian,” Cindy said sympathetically.
I shrugged. “I know I’ve only been back for a day, but I’ve been blind for a while now. I guess I sort of expected it.”
Terry slapped me on my back, saying, “I told you, Half-head, it’s not over yet.”
I smiled. Despite the doctor’s words, I found myself unable to feel very upset. Not now, anyway. I guess I was still feeling high from my sprint.
“I learned how to run again,” I said, and explained to Cindy what we had been doing.
“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re in good spirits,” said Cindy.
“I may be blind, but I’m going to learn the other things too.”
Cindy chuckled. “You can start by learning to eat with a fork, Adrian. Lunch is on the table.”
After another not-very-productive silverware lesson, Terry offered to let me retire to my cave, but I refused, asking her to take me outside again. Cindy and Alia joined us, bringing the Frisbee and Alia’s kite to the park. I obviously couldn’t catch the Frisbee, but I was told that I was getting better at throwing it in the right direction. There were a few times when I felt the chilling nothingness surround me again, putting me on the verge of another panic attack, but I forced myself to remain calm, and most likely no one noticed.
Just before 4pm, Terry took me to Mr. Simms’s place in New Haven Four for my post-mission debriefing.
“Let your feet learn the way, Adrian,” said Terry as we entered the NH-4 lobby. “I’m not always going to be around to guide you.”
I bit my tongue before I let slip my suspicion that I wouldn’t be seeing Mr. Sim
ms on a regular basis.
Terry led me up the elevator and down a corridor. A door was opened and we were ushered into the slightly stale air of Mr. Simms’s living room. Aside from Mr. Simms himself, there was Ms. Jodie Decker and two other Raven Knights that I didn’t remember the names of, but Mr. Simms did most of the talking.
Once we were seated, he started with, “First off, allow me to say how sorry I am that this happened to you. I hope you are feeling better.”
I would’ve liked to cut him off mid-sentence, telling him to skip the unnecessary apology and get on with the debriefing, but politeness demanded that I let him finish, thank him and smile appreciatively.
Once the unpleasantries were over and done with, Ms. Decker said, “Mr. Barnum only lived long enough to inform us that you were still alive when the Slayers took you. We have some basic idea of what happened to Raven Three based on the location of the bodies, blood on the grass, bullet holes in the vehicles and such. What we want to hear today is your account of it.”
I gave it to them in as much detail as I could remember. I might have left out that killing the Slayer woman with the assault rifle was just blind luck, but for the most part, I told it as it happened.
During and after my story, Mr. Simms and occasionally one of his Knights asked a question to which I had already given the clearest answer possible, but I obliged them and repeated myself as many times as they needed to hear it.
Then I asked Mr. Simms why the God-slayers who were stalking Raven Three hadn’t warned the Holy Land of an impending invasion.
Mr. Simms answered, “All we know for certain is that the Holy Land was still asleep when we made entry. Raven Two reported that the men at the radio station were taken by surprise. We’re still uncertain what delayed the warning, but it’s even possible that it was deliberate. The Slayers have been known to harm each other over differing ideologies.”
Kind of like psionics, I thought to myself. Suddenly I remembered Charles’s little sister, who had been burned to death by the Sky Guardians. Dare I ask Mr. Simms if he knew about them, and what ideologies they had? No, this wasn’t the time or place for off-topic stuff like that. I might ask Terry later.
“Now let’s move on to your time in captivity,” said Mr. Simms.
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