by David Bruns
“That was a long contraction,” Elise whispered. She leaned over her belly, eyes half-closed, face flushed.
A door on Cora’s right opened as they approached and she instinctively steered the chair through the open doorway. Lights came on as they entered, revealing a large bed at thigh height piled high with pillows and blankets. She looked back to find Adriana still standing in the entrance.
“Come in and close the door,” Cora said.
Adriana shook her head, her eyes locked on the dark red stains on Elise’s dress. “I—I … this is not for me.” She let the door shut on her.
Cora helped Elise out of her dress and into bed. Her hand touched Elise’s thigh and she drew back. Her leg was hard as steel.
Despite her pain, Elise laughed at her reaction. “Bionic.” She rapped her knuckles on the limb and put Cora’s hand just above her hip. The flesh there was warm and pliable. “From here down, I’m all machine.” She smiled at Cora, her face still flushed and sweaty from her last contraction.
“But the baby…” Cora began.
Elise put her hand up as another contraction began. As Cora helped her breathe through it, she checked the time. Less than ten minutes between contractions. This was progressing fast, too fast. And the bionics added complications.
She adjusted the bed and Elise leaned back into a stack of pillows. “There’s something wrong,” Elise said finally. Her voice was husky.
Cora had delivered hundreds of babies. The heavy bleeding, the rapid onset of contractions, Elise’s lethargy. The symptoms didn’t add up for her, but she kept her thoughts to herself. “Rest,” she said. “Let the baby come in her own time.”
Elise looked at her sharply. “You’re a believer, aren’t you? A true believer, I mean.”
“I am.”
Their conversation was interrupted by another contraction. Four minutes apart. Cora needed help and she needed it now. She slid on her data glasses and pulsed a message to William. “Send medical team to Kisaan quarters now.”
Elise took Cora’s hand. “This baby is special.”
Cora squeezed her hand, feeling herself choke with emotion. “I know. I am here to serve the Child.”
Elise’s head lolled, but she managed to catch it and refocus on Cora. “I need your help.”
“Anything.”
“Stay with the baby. Do not let anyone hurt her.” Her eyelids dipped. “Promise me. In Her name.” Elise’s head drooped.
Cora felt her heart race. This was not normal.
The door snapped open and a two-person team entered pushing a med pod. While one opened the pod, the other elbowed Cora out of the way to gain access to Elise.
“How long has she been like this?” asked a bulky woman with short red hair who appeared to be in charge.
“A few seconds. She was just talking to me.” The pod had opened into a full medical bed with a diagnostic hood overhead and an adjoining neonatal warmer. They moved the contraption next to Elise’s bed and transferred her inert, naked body underneath the hood. A virtual screen popped up showing Elise’s vitals and the baby’s. The red-haired doctor draped a sterile cloth over Elise and did a quick examination.
She squinted up at the diagnostic screen. “I don’t like it,” she said to her colleague. “Doesn’t add up.”
“What doesn’t add up?” Cora asked. Then she added, “I’m a midwife.”
The doctor answered her question with one of her own. “What has she had to eat or drink in the past few hours?”
“We were at dinner. She didn’t eat much, drank less. Some fruit juice, I think. You think this is a reaction to something she ate?”
“I think she’s been given something to induce labor and she’s having a reaction to it. Whoever gave her the dose probably didn’t know about the bionics and she’s OD’d. I’ve given her something to counteract it, but I’m guessing at what she’s been given…”
A red light flashed on the diagnostic and a soft, insistent pulse sounded. The doctor swore.
“Dammit. The baby’s in distress. We’re going to have to do a C-section. Prep her.”
The tech punched at a console and whipped off the sheet covering Elise. Cora was treated to a glimpse of Elise’s swollen stomach writhing from the movement of the baby inside.
“Engaging the air curtain,” said the tech, and Cora felt a gentle flow of air pushing away from the operating table.
“Begin UV sterilization,” the doctor ordered. A faint blue glow showed over the mound of Elise’s midsection.
“UV is on, Doctor.”
The doctor selected a laser scalpel from the tray as the tech moved the neonatal incubator inside the air curtain. Cora saw a flash of the scalpel and the warm, rich smell of open flesh reached her nostrils. Then a cry and the doctor was hoisting a tiny, wriggling form out of Elise’s open body. When she handed the baby across to the tech, the man almost dropped the infant.
“Holy shit, her eyes are open!” the tech said.
“Hold still while I sever the umbilical,” the doctor snapped back. Then she busied herself with Elise.
Cora moved to the side of the medical bed where the tech was wrapping the child in warm blankets. “Give her to me,” she said to the tech.
The fresh blankets warmed her chest as Cora held the child gently. The baby had a shock of thick dark hair and a round face still spotted with drying flecks of mucus and blood. The child opened her eyes and stared directly up at Cora.
Cora froze. The baby had eyes the color of gold, just like the baby in her dream. The child studied her face. Normally babies kept their eyes mostly closed at first and were unable to focus for the first few days outside the womb. But not only did this baby seem to be able to focus, the gaze felt like that of a much older person.
Cora shivered. This was the Child. Cassandra’s Child. Here, in her arms. The tech tried to take the baby away and she resisted. “Ms. Kisaan gave strict instructions that I was to take care of the Child. Only me.”
He shrugged as he placed an electrode on the baby’s forehead, then looked up at the diagnostic screen. His eyes widened. “Doc, you need to see this.”
The doctor was just finishing up with Elise. Cora could taste the acrid smell of fused flesh in the air from where the doctor had closed the incision.
“What is it now?” The doctor said in an impatient voice. She stared at the diagnostic panel, then looked at the baby, then back at the panel.
“You ever seen anything like that, doc?” the tech said. “That’s off the scale.”
The doctor just shook her head.
On the operating table, Elise stirred and opened her eyes. Her focus ping-ponged around the room until she found Cora holding the bundle. “Give her to me.”
Cora moved to the side of the bed and transferred the child to her mother’s arms. Elise’s hair was limp with sweat and her movements were languid. The doctor appeared on the other side of the bed.
“We think you had a reaction to something you ate at the dinner—”
“I was drugged.” Elise stated it flatly, like she was saying the sun was up or the sky was blue.
The doctor stammered. “I don’t like to jump to conclusions.”
“I’m not asking you to, Doctor. I’m asking you to leave. Thank you for everything you’ve done so far.” She spoke without looking up from her baby’s face. “We owe you everything.”
“I’m sure the baby will do much better in the medical unit—”
Elise’s eyes were dark and fierce. “That will be all, Doctor.”
The medical personnel helped transfer Elise back to her own bed, then packed up the med pod and left. The bedroom still smelled like an operating room. When she was situated, Elise beckoned to Cora to give her back the baby. She exposed a breast and let the child nurse.
Cora started to back away to the door.
“Stay,” Elise said. Her voice was choked with emotion and Cora realized she was crying.
“Can I do anything?” she asked.
Elise shook her head. The only sounds in the room were the baby suckling and the broken breathing of her mother.
“You had children,” Elise said. A statement, not a question.
“I did. A girl … she died in an accident with her father.”
“So you know what it’s like then.”
Cora swallowed. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about that.
Elise continued as if Cora had answered. “Losing a child.”
The baby finished feeding. “The general is outside. Bring him in.”
She found William in the hallway and brought him in. Without thinking, she slipped her fingers into his. She got a gentle squeeze in return.
Elise cradled the baby, whispering something. Finally, she tore her gaze away to look at Graves and Cora. She saw them holding hands and said nothing.
“It’s Remy’s baby, isn’t it?” William said.
Elise looked like she might lose her composure for a second, then regained control. “A child was never part of the plan. I promised Remy, but I never meant it. I was using him. I was—” She broke off and squeezed her eyes shut. Fat tears leaked out. “I was a different person then.”
“You were being used,” William told her. “Controlled.”
“I know,” Elise said. “It doesn’t make it any easier, General.” She looked down at the sleeping child and took another deep breath. “They changed the child—my child, Remy’s child. Made her different. I let them.” She held up her wrist where the black cryptokey dangled. “They will use her. Just like they used me. I can’t let that happen.”
Cora stiffened. “You want us to take her.”
Elise sniffed. “You’re a believer. I was too once, but I’ve strayed far from the path of Cassandra. There’s no going back for me. But they can’t have my baby.”
Cora took the sleeping baby from Elise. “I serve the Child,” she said.
“I know you do,” Elise replied. “Now get her far away from here.”
Chapter 31
Adriana Rabh • Council Chamber, Olympus Station
The corporate logos of the five families gleamed on the walls of the newly-built chamber for the Council of Corporations on Olympus Station. The Rabh seal, an ancient Egyptian pyramid topped by an all-seeing eye, was especially well rendered with the embossed R on the pyramid done at exactly the right pitch. Forgers of the Rabh logo rarely got the pitch correct. Her father had taught her that trick early in life as a sure way to spot a fake Rabh seal.
The room was shaped like a hexagon, with one wall consumed by the grand double doors and the other five sides each carrying one corporate logo. Five families, five logos. No room for interlopers from the planet surface. Graves and that Corazon woman had no family seals, no corporate backing, no reason to be seen on these walls. They were outsiders.
The new room had been appended to the very top of Olympus Station, like a jewel on the top of a king’s crown. Above the walls was … nothing. A clear bubble of plastisteel. This was the very end of the space elevator tether. The top of the room faced directly away from the Earth’s surface, so there was no stunning view of the planet to distract Adriana’s gaze.
When council members looked up, they saw nothing but space. Opportunity. Asteroids to mine, planets to exploit, power to be had—all theirs for the taking.
When had Anthony ordered this built? she wondered. It had only been a few days since he’d come out of the coma, and even with his considerable resources, a room of this design and quality would take longer than that.
She followed that thought. Anthony had planned to shift his base of power from Mars back to Earth long before his sudden conversion to a humanitarian. Adriana flicked her gaze to Viktor, who was dozing in his chair, probably still drunk from dinner. Anthony sat stone-faced in his own chair, the one that was just a shade taller and wider than all the other ones parked around the translucent round table. First among peers was how he once described his position in the council.
Adriana said, “This new council chamber is beautiful, Anthony. How long did it take to build it?”
Anthony roused himself, automatically engaging his smile. “Oh … a while. I always liked the idea of a round table, like King Arthur, you know?”
“Of course.” Adriana nodded. She could barely contain the sneer that threatened to break out across her face. King Arthur, indeed. This was not Camelot they were building. This was Las Vegas in the desert.
Where the hell was Tony, and what was going on with Elise?
She pushed the thought of the baby out of her mind. She was not a baby-killer, she was doing what needed to be done. The drug that Fischer had slipped into Elise’s drink could never be traced back to her. The child would die in labor. Unfortunate, but a fact of life even in these modern times.
Still, the sight of Elise’s bloody dress at the dining table had turned Adriana’s stomach. But not enough to make her rethink her plans. She was doing what needed to be done. Anthony had his angle and Tony had his. Ming was dead, Xi was pliable, and Viktor was an idiot. If she injected enough uncertainty into that combustible mixture, it might just create enough of an opening for her rise to the top of the heap.
First among peers. That had a nice ring to it.
The double doors opened and a woman strode in. Red hair, a little on the chunky side for Adriana’s liking, but with an air of purpose. A professional of some kind.
Anthony was out of his chair and across the room, shaking her hand in both of his. Ever the people pleaser. “Doctor, thank you for coming. How is she?”
“Ms. Kisaan is fine, sir. Resting in her quarters.”
“And the baby?
The doctor smiled. “A healthy girl.”
Adriana sat up so suddenly that even Viktor roused himself to look at her. “A girl?” she said to cover up her surprise. Inside, she boiled with rage. Fischer had screwed up.
The doctor had a genuine smile, the kind that spread all the way to her eyes. “Yes, a girl. She’s with Ms. Santos now. If she hadn’t called for the medical team, Ms. Kisaan might have died.”
“That’s … remarkable,” Adriana said through clenched teeth.
“I wanted to come see you personally, Mr. Taulke,” the doctor said. “The baby is not normal—not sure how to describe it, actually. She’s healthy, no physical issues at all.”
“Then what?” Anthony said.
The doctor shook her head. “She shows brain activity that is off the charts. And her eyes are open, too. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she could understand what we were saying.”
Anthony laughed. “That sounds like science fiction, Doctor.”
“I know what it sounds like, sir, and I know what I saw. I don’t know the circumstances of Ms. Kisaan’s pregnancy, but this child is not normal.” She hesitated. “I know there’s a lot of talk about this child having religious significance to the New Earth Order. I’m not a believer, but I’m here to tell you as a doctor for over a quarter century, I have never seen anything like this child.”
Anthony seemed cowed by the news. He pinched his lip. “Thank you, Doctor.”
After she left, Anthony sank down heavily into his chair. Where the hell was Tony? she wondered again.
“Adriana,” Anthony said. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She leaned back into chair cushions, crossing her legs, arranging the folds of her dress carefully across her knees. Using her retinal scan, she pulsed a message to Eugene Fischer.
“The child is still alive. Finish the job.”
Then she looked up at Anthony and gave him a soft, friendly smile.
“I’m here for you, Anthony. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Chapter 32
Anthony Taulke • Council Chamber, Olympus Station
The chair groaned as it took Anthony’s full weight. His buoyant mood evaporated as he tried to sort through this flood of new information. The doctor’s assessment of Elise’s child rattled him. Had he underest
imated the Neos again? Whoever was behind this cult had outsmarted him once and he had the sinking feeling he was behind the power curve again. He needed allies now more than ever. If this Child was a new Cassandra, a new weapon, his plans were in danger—again.
But could he trust Adriana? He studied his old friend. With her web of influence and bottomless resources, she was his biggest threat to power on the council. The ambassador to Earth position was a way to keep her busy, off the scent of his plan to take back control of the weather.
Anthony remembered waking up in the medical suite here on Olympus Station after the assassination attempt. Like he was resurfacing after too long underwater and dragging sweet air into his hungry lungs.
He had survived his brush with death, but it had changed him. It was a reminder of his mortality, of who he was—or should be—as a human being. All his power, all his money, all his influence were pointless unless he left a mark on history. Unless he left the world a better place for having been part of this universe.
When he knelt in the shattered glass and dust of the United Nations room where he had nearly lost his life, Anthony made a pact with himself: his fellow human beings would remember him for his good works.
The Savior Network that he had designed with Viktor and Xi was all that and more. The satellites would provide coverage over every square millimeter of the planet. Viktor’s new nanites would seek out and destroy the Lazarus Protocol bugs, removing the stranglehold that Elise Kisaan and the New Earth Order had over him.
And then he would give it away. He hadn’t told anyone that part yet—not even Viktor.
The Savior Network was to be his gift to humanity. The United Nations could set up a commission to decide how best to modify the atmosphere. Agriculture would flourish. Cities would be safe. Prosperity for generations.
All because of Anthony Taulke. The Savior Network would be his crowning achievement as a human being. All his. Forever.