Fall of Icarus (67 page)

           
There was a pause before Keryn replied as she tried to gather her thoughts.
 
“What makes you think I’m going after Cardax?”

           
Because I know you better than you know you.
 
Because you’ve never failed at anything you’ve ever done.
 
You’ve stumbled along the way, but you’ve always overcome every challenge.
 
Because no matter how insulted you felt about the assignment when the High Council gave it to you, it is still your mission to complete.
 
And, even if it kills you, you will get the information out of Cardax.

           
“So just like that, we’re friends again?” Keryn chided.

           
We’re not friends.
 
We’re more of a… symbiotic relationship.
 
What I need from you, I take.
 
What you need from me, I give.

           
Keryn felt the flare of anger again.
 
“You make it sound like you have all the power, dispersing your well wishes whenever it suits you.”

           
I told you we would have to reevaluate our relationship.

           
Standing quickly from the pilot’s chair, Keryn turned toward the doorway leading into the rest of the ship.
 
Though she couldn’t escape the Voice, she knew the Voice was aware of the metaphorical turning of her back.
 
“You may have to be in my head, but that doesn’t mean I ever have to listen to you.”

           
You are correct about that
, the Voice calmly replied.
 
You don’t have to listen to me.
 
In fact, I’ll do my best to stay quiet.
 
But I’m never going away again, no matter how much you want me gone.
 
I’m going to become more a part of you than you could have ever fathomed before.

           
Angrily, Keryn stormed out of the cockpit and made her way back to the medical bay.
 
As the door slid open, the faces of the surviving team members turned toward her.
 
After their fight against Cardax’s second ship, the entire team had been in the medical bay, checking on McLaughlin.
 
Grimacing, Keryn looked each of the teammates in the face.
 
She expected to see their condescension.
 
And there was a look in their eyes, but it wasn’t accusatory.
 
It was concern, both for McLaughlin and, unless she mistook their intent, for her as well.

           
“How is he?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

           
Cerise slid out of the way, her body no longer protecting the Pilgrim on the table.
 
Keryn’s stomach twisted at the sight.
 
A number of smaller shrapnel holes were being patched by the mechanical surgery arms that extended from the medical bed
.
 
His right arm had already been amputated, leaving a smoothly sheered stump where the strong arm had once been.
 
She could see the strata of the bones and muscles, exposed to the ship’s recycled air.
 
The burns on his face marred his once handsome looks.
 
Much of his hair was burned
away,
leaving scarred and twisted flesh beneath.
 
Though sedated, Keryn could still see the pained expression on his torn face.

           
“Is he…” she began, before the words caught in her throat.
 
“Is he going to make it?”

           
Adam shrugged.
 
“I don’t know.
 
The wounds aren’t too severe.
 
Though he won’t be the same man when the surgeries are done, none of his wounds alone should be enough to kill him.”

           
“However?” Keryn asked, sensing there was something Adam wasn’t telling her.
 
Judging from the saddened expression on Cerise’s face, Keryn guessed that everyone else already knew what Adam was going to say.

           
“However, there’s more to his injuries than just the damage from the grenade.
 
Look at this.”

           
Adam turned the medical console toward Keryn so she could see the screen.
 
The blue tinted screen showed a series of near transparent cells, tightly packed against one another and elongated.
 
Muscle tissue, Keryn realized.
 
She turned toward Adam inquisitively.

           
“Just watch,” he said.

           
As she turned back toward the screen, Keryn noticed invasive black cells, only a tenth the size of the muscle cells, sliding between the membranes.
 
Almost as one, the black cells turned and punctured the outer membranes of the muscle cells.
 
Keryn watched a fluid transfer occur between the cells as the black viruses deflated and died.
 
The fluid, however, immediately began breaking down the structural integrity of the muscle cells.
 
Within seconds, the majority of the muscle cells had ruptured, genetically degrading into a primordial soup.

           
Keryn turned sharply toward Adam, her surprise evident on her face.
 
“Were those…
”

           
“McLaughlin’s cells,” Adam finished.
 
“They were a sample taken just minutes ago from his damaged arm.
 
The grenade was lace with something; a biological agent that I can’t identify.
 
Once it gets into a person’s system, it breaks down the body on a cellular level.”

           
“You said this was from his arm,” Keryn replied hopefully.
 
“Maybe we stopped its spread when we amputated his arm.”

           
Cerise sobbed loudly from the other side of the room as Adam shook his head.
 
“We did
scans
at random points throughout his body.
 
Whatever this is, it’s aggressive.
 
We’ve already found signs of it in his liver and kidneys.”
 
Grabbing Keryn by the arm, Adam pulled her close so they wouldn’t be overheard.
 
“Listen, I can give him a regenerative cocktail of chemicals that will greatly slow the break down in his cells, but I am way out of my league with this.
 
This is Terran biological technology.
 
I wouldn’t even know where to start searching for a cure.”

           
Keryn closed her eyes and frowned.
 
“We may not know where to find a cure, but I know someone who might.”

           
Without an explanation, Keryn left the medical bay and walked back to the cockpit.
 
Closing the door behind her, she typed furiously on the console, entering a code that only she had been given.
 
After only a moment’s hesitation, the screen turned from blue to a dark black with a bright red symbol emblazoned in its center.
 
As the High Council’s emblem faded,
it was replaced by a dimly lit council chamber
.
 
Around the semicircular table, six high-backed chairs rested, the seats for the six members of the shadowy Council.
 
To her surprise, only a single robed figure was present.

           
“Magistrate Riddell,” the Wyndgaart Councilmember stated flatly.
 
“You have failed to capture Cardax.
 
Why is it you call us now?”

           
“I may not have captured Cardax yet, but I’m not giving up,” Keryn retorted.
 
“But I need your help right now.
 
One of my men was injured by a Terran biological weapon
.
 
It’s destabilizing his organs.
 
There’s nothing I can do for him here, but I hoped that you might be able to provide us with a cure.”

           
The Councilmember crossed his hands thoughtfully before him.
 
“Were we in a different situation, I would gladly provide you with a cure for his disease.”
 
Keryn grimaced at his tone and waited for the rest of his statement.
 
“However, Pteraxis is not near any of our medical treatment facilities.
 
It would be a long journey to get him the care he requires.”

           
“That’s fine,” Keryn said, her heart pounding in her chest.
 
“We can make a detour and drop him off, then get back on the trail of Cardax.”

           
Keryn didn’t have to look at the screen to see the Wyndgaart shake his head.
 
“I’m sorry, but if you made such a detour, you would lose Cardax’s trail forever.
 
Your mission is too important to sacrifice for the
well-being
of a single soldier.
 
Capture Cardax,
then
bring us your teammate for treatment.
 
Not before.”

           
Slamming her fist angrily on the console, Keryn replied defiantly.
 
“To hell with my mission!
 
We’re talking about the life of one of my men!”

           
“Do you defy the will of the Council?” the Councilmember replied, his voice rising in irritation if not anger.
 
“You would do well to remember your place, Magistrate.
  
Bring us the information we seek from Cardax,
then
we will provide the best care possible for your man.
 
Not before!”

           
With
a finality
in his voice, the Councilmember ended the transmission, leaving Keryn staring at the bright red High Council symbol, which also soon faded from the screen.
 
Clenching and unclenching her jaw, Keryn leaned back in the pilot’s chair.
 
Though she may not agree with the High Council, she had no options remaining other than to follow their directive.
 
Whether to the Voice or now the High Council, once again she felt like the pawn of a higher power.

           
Inputting new directives into the console, a faint vapor trail appeared on the radar.
 
Though Cardax had a sizeable lead on the
Cair Ilmun
, his plasma exhaust trail was still visible and easy to follow.
 
Setting a new course, Keryn set off in pursuit before putting the system on autopilot and moving back toward the medical bay.

           
In the common room, she ran into Adam, who was coming up to see her.
 
“What did your friends say?” he asked.

           
Keryn shook her head.
 
“They said that we had better find Cardax, and fast.”

           
Adam shrugged.
 
“So, what do we do?”

           
Last time Adam had asked her that, she had hesitated.
 
Her indecision had lost good men their lives and had irrevocably changed Keryn forever.
 
This time, however, there was no hesitation in her response.

           
“We’re going to find Cardax and I’m going to personally carve every bit of information we need out of his body.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

           
Yen was completely consumed by the power.
 
Lifting the stone monument from the ground had pushed him way beyond what even he had thought possible.
 
The result had been like opening the Pandora’s
Box
of psychic energy and unleashing a hellish beast that opened its maw and swallowed him whole.
 
Taking on a life of its own, Yen’s power roared through his veins and set his brain alight.
 
The pain was
nearly unbearable and brought tears
to his eyes.
 
Yet he didn’t fear his newfound power.
 
Instead, he reveled in the freedom he felt, especially the freedom of knowing that he had evolved beyond that of his previous mortal limitations.
 
The psychic power whispered to him, enticing Yen’s mind with thoughts of domination over all that would oppose him.
 
Smiling malevolently, Yen knew that the whispers were less of a new sentient voice and more an outlet to his own subconscious.
 
Despite the physical pain, he had never felt more alive… or more powerful.