CHAPTER 8
The healers helped me onto their wheeled stretcher, the softness of the bedding coming as a shock to my body. Days of heat and harsh sands, blisters and scorched skin, unending thirst and hunger, all of that gathered together with the confusion of the last few hours to create a perfect storm which seemed to cloud out reality. I felt swept up in the moment, as though lifted from the ground by fierce winds which whispered words like 'fear' and 'change'. I held the sides of the stretcher tightly, as though the softness of its cushions would keep me safe, or its metal frame would anchor me. Everything seemed to happen and then flee from the grasp of my understanding. I had no time to think upon what was occurring. I did not dare let go of the stretcher to reach out and grasp at those fleeting moments of understanding. I did not dare.
The crowd watched quietly as I was helped onto the stretcher. They could see the pain I was in, and it was a small comfort that when I winced, the faces of many around me were filled with concern. Regardless of what sort of people these were, that they felt worry at the sight of discomfort was a good sign. Kronan cruelty had obviously not taken hold here. Perhaps it was merely well hidden.
The two healers used broad straps to secure me to the stretcher, and were careful not to lay them across skin too parched to bare them. They used small bandages, soaked in the same sort of slimy medicine used on me in the hut, to cushion the straps where they touched my skin. It helped, but even the pressure hurt. I did my best to bear the pain, though I could feel its sharp claws digging into me like a bird of prey. Soon, the pain would carry me off.
As the healers finished securing me to the stretcher, the cordon of soldiers helped clear a path for our small group. The crowd moved willingly, and though they still watched me as though I were some bizarre curiosity, they seemed to mean me no harm. Whoever the one angry man had been, he seemed to have no compatriots here, or at least none I could see. Still, both Danlis and Jin were at my side, watching the crowd carefully.
"We're with you, Jovan," the captain whispered to me. "You're safe."
I nodded, and lay back on the stretcher, allowing its softness to take hold of me. I quickly felt the exhaustion in my body flood my mind, like a damn burst forth. I felt my eyes begin to close.
I did not even remember falling asleep, but when it came, I welcomed it with a willing embrace.
***
The courtyard of Skyreach Keep seemed so very green, and so alive. The ground was covered with grass, not the gray stones I recalled from my visits. The grass was wet, and my blistered feet were soothed by the cool dew. No, not dew. It had rained here recently. The ground was soaked beneath the grass, though I could not remember a single drop of rain during any such visit. Even before the war, rain was rare around the keep. Still, it had rained here very recently. The statues, stretching out in two rows before me, were still wet. Birds perched atop several status, tweeting merrily, and watching me as I moved.
I walked between the rows of stone sentinels, examining the stone lords as I passed them. They were not cracked nor weathered, as I recalled them being. They all seemed as though they had been carved out mere days ago. The edges were still sharp, and the details clear. The statues almost seemed real, alive, save for the gray hue of the stone. The walls of the courtyard seemed much less worn.
The sky above me was clear, with wisps of clouds overhead. The sun shone brightly, warmly, and it embraced me. The pain of my desert ordeal was gone. I looked down to see my clothing restored to me, my sword at my side. My leather coat weighed down on my shoulders. It was a familiar weight, and far more welcome than the scorching sun. Still, I was without my boots. Where had they gone to?
"Missing something?" The voice echoed among the statues. It was a deep, sneering voice. It mocked me.
I drew my sword, spaced my feet out in a fighting stance, and waited assault. The courtyard was quiet, save for the lingering echo of the voice, which did not seem to fade as it should.
"Who speaks?" I said quietly. Nothing. "Who speaks?" I called out again, louder. My voice did not echo at all, as if the statues swallowed up my voice, trapped it, refusing to let it carry at all.
The voice laughed cruelly. It was some Dark Lord. I was sure of it.
"Face me!" I demanded. "I am not afraid of you."
"Of course you're not afraid of me," the voice intoned. "Why would you be?"
"Where are you?"
"Here," came the reply. "I am right here, even if you can't see me." The tone changed mid-sentence. The formal Kronan growl seemed to shift into something else. It seemed familiar, even if I couldn't place it.
"Let me see you," I snarled, looking left and right in search of my hidden assailant. "Come out from hiding."
"I'm not hiding, Jovan." The voice seemed amused, yet I knew it spoke the truth. What that truth meant was another matter.
"Then why can I not see you?"
"You're not looking hard enough," he retorted. "You're not looking in the right place."
"I am not afraid of you, Kronan," I spat.
"So you say," the voice replied. "So you say, and so I have acknowledged. Of course you don't fear me. Why would you? People only truly fear things they don't understand. You understand me, Jovan. You understand us."
I felt my heart stop, as if it dared not beat. My breathing held fast. My body did not move. Even my eyes did not shift in search of the voice. I felt a spark of fire ignite in my chest. The fire spread, until my entire body burned with dread. It consumed me whole, from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Had it been true flame, I would have been a beacon of blazing flesh. Inside, it felt as though that were truly so.
"What's wrong, Jovan?" the mocking voice intoned. "Now you're afraid. Why is that?"
I wondered how to respond. I wondered what sort of words the voice expected. After a moment, I found the strength to mutter, "I do not know you."
Just then I felt a hand grasp my left hand. I felt a shock, and I dropped my sword. I stepped away, but the hand held me. I looked to it, and saw that it was gloved, the flesh hidden. My eyes slowly, painfully traced a path up my assailant's arm, which was covered in a simple black shirt. The shirt was buttoned up to the collar, which halted at the jaw. From there, a mask of cloth covered the entire face, save for the eyes. The eyes were cruel, though I could not tell what they wanted. They were familiar, though I could not place their master. They knew me, though I could not be sure how that was so.
"Don't fear me," the assailant demanded. "Don't fear me, Jovan."
"What are you?" I whispered.
I could sense this terrible thing smiling beneath his mask. He knew the truth. He knew that I recognized him, at least partially. This was the unknown Dark Lord, the statue from the corner of the courtyard. This was the Dark Lord whose name had been scratched out, whose reign had been erased. What did he want with me? I asked him.
"That comes later, Jovan." His voice shifted from amused to serious, determined. "I know exactly where you are. I know exactly where you have been. I know exactly where you are going."
"Where am I going?" I asked, fearing the answer.
The unknown Dark Lord pulled me close. I felt his cold, icy breath through his mask. His voice seemed to crackle in my ears as he spoke, the power of his presence all but unbearable at this small distance.
"You are exactly where I want you to be, and you are going exactly where I need you to go," he said. "Keep coming. I'm waiting for you."
His terrible, familiar laughter echoed among the statues. They laughed as well. They all laughed at me.
***
"What do you want?" I shouted, bolting upright from my sleep.
It was dark, quiet. I was inside, a small square room that reminded me of the hut on the beach. Lights and displays were everywhere. I was lying in a bed, soft, warm. The bed had rails on either side, and they blinked with firefly lights. I looked about me. Behind my head, displays showed my state. My heart raced, though I did not need the beeping screen to tell me so. I could feel my heart hammer against my chest, like a beast seeking release. Still, the readouts showed that it was beginning to slow. I felt the slimy coolness of the burn dressings on my arms and legs. I was covered in them.
"I don't want anything," the voice said quietly. "I'm just here to keep an eye on you."
I looked about in the darkness. To my left, seated in a chair, was a shadowy form.
"Close your eyes," the figure whispered. "I'm going to turn on a light."
I squinted and looked away. A click, and there was light in the room. I turned back to the figure. It was Corporal Danlis. He was seated, his hand upon a small, bright orb resting upon a wooden mount. The orb lit the room, but his hand upon it showed that it was not burning. Another bit of magic from these strange people. The globe cast a soft, soothing light about the room. It was not harsh like the sun, but easy on my eyes. It lit the room enough to see art hung upon the wall, relaxing images of nature scenes. The room was sparse, save for some chairs, monitors on the walls, and my bed. The walls, smooth, were colored a light blue, much like the medical pack from the hut, and the uniforms of the healers who had come for me at the ship.
Danlis slid his hand from the globe, slowly moving it back into his lap where his weapon rested. He was no longer in his armor, though he wore fresh, pressed clothing that looked like he had worn when I first met him. I saw that on his chest, a small tag with his name imprinted on it had been sewn into the material. His attire had changed, but his expression had not. His visage was no more comforting now than before. He looked at me with a determined look, like one who gazes upon the enemy. In spite of sitting in what was obviously a comfortable, cushioned seat, he was as ready as when I had first seen him in the hut.
"Where am I?" I asked.
"You're still on Fisher's Island," he replied coldly. His voice was not harsh, but firm. It had an odd inflection to it, reminding me of the thick accent of the eastern farmers. "You're in the hospital."
"I fell asleep," I started. Before I could finish my sentence, I felt my body fall back into the warm, soft embrace of the bed. Very quickly, I was once more as I had been. Asleep.
***
My awareness seemed to shift. My perceptions were suspect. I shifted between the courtyard, where the unknown Dark Lord laughed as he held my arm, and the hospital bed where I lay in darkness. I became vaguely aware of men and women in blue clothing moving about. I felt a sting in my arm, though I was not sure if that was the work of the healers, or the Dark Lord. The world seemed to shift between the warm, soothing darkness of the hospital, and the bright, crisp air of the courtyard. The light about me flickered, as though the sun of the courtyard fought with the orb of the room, each vying for my attention.
I could hear whispering about me.
"We should do it now, while he sleeps," Professor Nesing insisted.
"No," replied Ariel Gere, the Counselor's killer.
"Yes, do it now," intoned the unknown Dark Lord. "We must."
"It could kill him," an unknown man in healer's blue replied.
"He can't function without it." Nesing said with some insistence.
"He needs this," Captain Jin said in agreement. "We can't protect him if he doesn't understand."
"This will help him." The unknown Dark Lord whispered. "It's what he needs."
"Look at him. He's hallucinating," the healer said. "I don't want to introduce more nanobots into his system, until we're sure he can handle them."
"He's hallucinating because he doesn't understand what he sees around him," Jin replied, pointing to me through my haze of semi-consciousness. "He's confused, injured, and exhausted. This may help settle him down, and allow him to start processing what he is seeing and hearing."
"Agreed," Professor Nesing said with a nod.
"You're a soldier, Captain," retorted the healer. "You're not a medic, and you're certainly not a doctor. And you, Professor, aren't any closer to wearing blue than he is."
"No, no," the Dark Lord hissed. "The Captain is right. This will help him."
My courtyard-dream and hospital-reality seemed mixed together, one bleeding into the other. I tried to speak, but I found myself unable to move, unable to talk. My words came out as gibberish, mere mumbling confusion. I tried to reach out to the people who stood around my bed, but I could not. I tried to shake free of the Dark Lord in the courtyard, but he held me tight.
"And if this kills him?" the healer asked.
"You can shut them off," the Dark Lord replied. "They can sit, dormant, until he is ready for them. Watch him carefully, and you will know when they can be awakened again. Do it now, doctor. Do it now. I command you."
"His hallucinations are getting worse," Nesing intoned with concern.
The healer nodded slowly. "Very well," he said with a sigh.
There was a short silence, and then a pinch on the side of my neck. Everything went black.
***
I awoke. The hospital room was quiet, save for the quiet beeping of the heart monitor behind me. Corporal Danlis sat quietly in that same chair, watching me as always. Sun shone in through a window behind me, between Danlis and me. The sun was high in the sky. Bird chirped outside the window.
"How long?" I asked.
"Four days," he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.
He still cradled his pulse rifle in his lap, his finger stretched over the trigger housing, but not touching it. His uniform was perfectly pressed. He held a small compad in his left hand, absently turning the small white, plastic device in his hand. He tapped something into it, and then set it back in a breast pocket.
"You've been under for four days," Danlis repeated. "They kept you sedated."
I nodded.
The door to the hospital room opened, and Professor Nesing entered. He was wearing civilian clothing, a simple suit of light gray. He wore a tie, black, which he fiddled with as he entered. His shoes were well shined, and he seemed more comfortable now than when I had first seen him in the hut. I had not realized it then, but obviously, this was the Professor's normal clothing, not the soldier's uniform he had worn then. He was smiling, and quietly closed the door behind him. The door handle clicked, the only sound in the silent room, save for the beeping.
"He just woke up," Danlis said to Nesing, though he kept his eyes on me.
"How are you feeling, Jovan?" Nesing asked gently.
"Rested," I replied.
I sat up and stretched, feeling the soreness which still lingered in my body. Still, I felt much better. As I turned my head left, I saw that the skin on my arm was much healed, though not entirely. I check out my left hand, and saw that it was in perfect condition. The instinctual glance was mere habit, though I could not remember why.
Nesing reached into his pocket, and took out a small device. It was a compad, much the same as the one Danlis had. He handed it to me. It was light, smooth. It fit perfectly into my hand. The black plastic was glossy, and the screen showed the image of a dancer, a woman, posed in mid-step. She was very beautiful. Her blonde hair was tied back, and her clothing, form-fitting, outlined a figure of perfection. A dancer, indeed.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"Oh, her?" Nesing smiled. "That's my daughter. She's studying classical dance at the university."
I nodded.
"What is the object called, Jovan," Nesing asked expectantly.
I turned the device over in my hands. "A compad, of course."
Of course. I caught myself, looked back and forth between the compad and Nesing. I smiled, squinting at the device, unsure of why it was so obvious.
"They took," Nesing said with a nod.
"Excuse me?" I replied.
Nesing pointed to me, approaching my bed. "The nanobots, they took. They're working."
I nodded my understanding. The tiny robots, so small they could fit inside a single cell, were coursing through my veins. They shifted about in my brain, whispering the answers to the gaps in my knowledge. It all made sense.
"There was some debate about whether we should do it or not," Nesing continued, pulling a chair up to the side of my bed. He sat down, crossing his right leg over his left. "Some people were worried that it might harm you, especially in your fragile state, but obviously it hasn't."
I nodded again. "I guess not." I looked myself over again, my bare arms seeming different, yet familiar. My whole body felt different.
"How do you feel?" Nesing asked, as if in reply to my self-examination. "Odd, I'll bet."
"Yes," I said carefully, slowly. "I feel as though this body is not entirely my own."
"Nanobot injections tend to do that," he replied. "That will last a few days. Don't let it bother you. You're still you. Your body just has some help, now."
"What will the nanobots do to me?" I asked.
"Nothing more than they're already doing," The professor assured me. "These are a lot like the ones I injected you with on the beach. They are designed to enter your brain and impart information. The last batch, the ones I gave you, they were designed for language. These are intended for basic technical information. They won't teach you mathematics or history, but when you look at something like a compad, you will understand what it is, and have a name for it. As you encounter the basics of life here, you will begin to understand it all."
I smiled. The magic, no, the technology here was really quite amazing. "Can I have more? Can I learn more?"
The Professor shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Jovan. The rest of it, you will have to figure out the usual way. These nanobot treatments were designed for people with brain injuries, accidents or strokes. It helps them get back on their feet. Before that, it would take years of rehabilitation, and even then it was rarely a full recovery. The nanobots take care of that in a matter of days. About a hundred years ago, somebody at the university distributed them to the surveillance pods, just in case someone else walked out of the desert. Good idea, as it turned out."
"Someone else?" I asked. I pondered his words for a moment. "I am not the first to cross the desert?"
"We discussed this, Jovan, though I doubt you remember. A lot was happening." Nesing leaned in somewhat. "Several people have come before you, but it's been almost a thousand years since the last one."
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"Her, actually." Nesing sighed. "She didn't survive the shock of our world. It was all too much for her."
"It actually killed her?" I asked. Could this place really kill?
He shook his head. "No. Sadly, she took her own life. The records have all the details. I can have them sent to you later on, if you really want to know. Perhaps you could fill in some of the blanks. We never really learned much about her."
"A thousand years ago?" I asked. "What good would I be?"
"You might have known her."
"If she lived a thousand years ago, how is that possible?"
Nesing sighed. "One more thing we have to explain to you, I suppose." He stood up, and slid the chair back against the wall. "Now that you're healthy, more or less, we can start talking about your future."
"Oh?"
He nodded. "There is a lot of debate about where we should take you. Your presence has been kept secret, but those who know about you, government and military people, some others at the university, they have a lot of different ideas about what's best for you."
"Do any of these people plan on asking me?" I retorted. I did not enjoy the idea of being treated like a child, or some dug-up curiosity.
"I want you to have a say," he replied. "Others don't, but ultimately, I'm confident they'll see it my way."
"Why is that?" I asked, wondering how much influence a teacher really had.
"It has to do with the rules under which your arrival falls." He shrugged. "That's yet one more thing we have to explain to you. Suffice to say, the university has a lot of legal influence over where you go."
"And where do you want me to go?" I wondered aloud.
"I would like to take you back to New Marsdanie, to the university where I work and teach. There are a lot of people who would like to speak to you. It's also the best place for you to start figuring out this world of ours."
"And the others?" I asked. "Where do they want me to go?"
"Some in the government want you settled on a military base," he said. "It's a security issue. They want to keep you safe, and they don't think a bunch of silly academics can see to that. They also think you might be more comfortable around other soldiers."
"So," I started, "I can either live out my days in a school, or an army camp. I don't much care for either."
Nesing shook his head. "No, no, it's not forever. If I have my way, you'll eventually be settled. We'll find you a home and a job, and let you take it from there."
"What if I want to return home?" I remembered very clearly his promise on the beach, and reminded him of it.
He nodded, though with another sigh. "I remember, and I suppose you can choose that. Still, once you better understand where you are, I think you'll set that aside."
There was a knock at the door, and before I could respond, it opened. In walked Ariel Gere, the bodyguard for some politician. No, not a bodyguard. To be called a political hack meant that her job was to work behind the scenes for her employer. She was a talker, and fixer. I watched as she entered the room, surveying everyone within it. She looked upon the scene with an expert eye, and I knew immediately that she was calculating exactly what to say. I noticed an almost predatory twinkle in her eye, something that I had missed before, though in retrospect remembered.
She left the door slightly open, and moved to the edge of the bed. She looked me over, and I felt like a slab of meat being examined by a butcher. I became suddenly aware that I was not wearing clothing, and my blanket covered me from only the waist down. I looked to my right, and saw a loose-fitting shirt draped over the side of the bed. I put it on, feeling self-conscious under her gaze.
"You look better, Jovan." Her tone was gentle, but I could sense her probing.
I inclined my head. "Your healers, no, your doctors have done a good job. My burns are almost entirely healed."
She nodded. "That's why we kept you here. The hospital on Fisher's Island has some of the best care outside the capitol. Are you still in pain?"
"No," I said, lying. "I feel fine."
She nodded. She could read the lie, though did not say so. "Good. So, now that you're up, there are some people I would like you to meet."
"Who?" I asked.
She smirked. It was a friendly smile, though I wondered if the jaws of wolves looked thus, when they came upon prey.