Orphaned Warrior (Dragon Spawn Chronicles Book 5), page 13
Blakesley cocked his head, then his eyes sparked as though realizing something. “Exactly. Much of Vance’s interest in him is because they’re a lot alike.”
Her throat tightened. “What do you mean?”
Blakesley arched an eyebrow. “The information you have on him is only part of the story. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
The hairs on her arms spiked at his sinister tone. “It said he’s taken a life, but in self-defense.”
“Oh, not just one life, many lives.”
She gasped. “Many?” she asked with a squeak.
“You really have no idea?” His mouth quirked with incredulity and sent a chill down her spine. “Trust me. Your people are not equipped to handle him.”
Zaina worked her dry tongue, but no words came out. It was too much to process.
Blakesley eased beside her and wrapped his arm around her. “Listen. I think I can help you.”
She blinked. “How?”
“Vance isn’t interested in you.” His eyes tilted apologetically. “So I might convince him to allow you to leave, but only you.”
“I-I can’t leave him.” She said despite her misgivings.
“You can’t handle him, dear.”
She shook her head. The prospect of taking a killer child to her homeworld was daunting, but he was better off there than with a bunch of people who wanted to use him. She wasn’t a fool. Blakesley was a military man. Vance too. And they’d use Jori as one as well.
He loosened his embrace but didn’t let go. “I want to help you.” His eyes sharpened onto hers and he gripped her shoulders. “Until then, you mustn’t defy Vance’s orders. I get it. You want to be there for the boy, but you simply can’t. Nor should you. He’s perfectly capable of hurting you.”
She swallowed down the lump in her throat. The tightness of his features and the firmness of his tone punctuated the danger she was in. Jori wouldn’t hurt her, though. Would he? She wasn’t sure about him, but she was fairly certain about that big scary man who ran this ship. “But I’m afraid of what Vance will do to him.”
Blakesley’s jaw twitched. “He won’t kill him. You have my word.”
She blinked several times. The promise sounded good if she didn’t look too closely at the fact that he’d only promised Jori wouldn’t be killed. “So what do I do?”
He rubbed her shoulders. “Trust in me and we can get through this.”
Her distrust wouldn’t allow her to reply. Blakesley must’ve taken her silence for agreement because he patted her hand and offered more reassurances. She heard him but wasn’t really listening. Thoughts tried to formulate in her fogged brain to no avail.
“Zaina, dear? Are you alright?”
Before she could speak, the ache in her skull cracked like lightning. She moaned and let her head fall back on the pillow.
“Zaina!” Blakesley shook her.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she mumbled. She attempted to wave him away but had little strength. “It’s just a headache.”
Concern etched his eyes as he studied her face. He pressed a hand to her cheek, then forehead. “Come. Let’s get you to the infirmary. The doctor can give you another treatment and you’ll be back in tip-top condition.”
“But I can’t be where Jori is,” she murmured.
“He’s not in that area. It will be alright.”
Her chest tightened, but she forced in some air and exhaled noisily as Blakesley helped her rise. He hooked his arm in hers and half-carried her out. Her muscles protested but worked better by the time they reached the infirmary. Too bad the pounding in her skull remained.
Blakesley eased her onto a bed. She considered lying down, but stayed upright and scanned the room for Jori instead. He wasn’t here, like Blakesley had said. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Doctor Claessen arrived. Her smile was soft yet off in a way that Zaina couldn’t identify.
After a series of questions, the doctor retrieved a hypospray. “This will help for a while.” She pressed the instrument to Zaina’s neck. A hiss sounded, indicating injection.
Within moments, a freshness like cool water surged through Zaina’s head. A sigh escaped her lips and she collapsed with relief. “Thank you so much.”
Doctor Claessen patted her shoulder. “Of course. You know, I used to have the same issues you did. The stress was so intense, my body would fail. I’d be bedridden for days on end—one time for an entire month. I was such a mess.”
Zaina held her breath, waiting for the doctor to divulge her secret. All thoughts about Jori fled.
“I learned about this procedure from a Doctor Garrett. He inserted a chip he calls motislaxo and it regulates my emotions so they no longer get out of control.”
Zaina pulled back. “A chip?”
The doctor nodded. “It made my life so much easier.”
Zaina turned to Blakesley and frowned.
Not a hint of surprise showed on his face as he dipped his head. “This has helped many people.”
Zaina’s thoughts warred. On the one hand, having a way to curb these hard emotions sounded like heaven. On the other, some here seemed more machine than human. “Would I still be the same?” she asked the doctor.
“You’ll be yourself—just less stressed.”
Zaina studied the woman. She had a chip yet she wasn’t like many of these others. Her smile was natural. Her expression sincere.
It was almost enough for Zaina to say yes. Her nerves jumped like an excited dog against its leash. Something other than a leash held her back but she wasn’t sure what it was. “I’ll think about it.”
Doctor Claessen smiled. “I’ll send information to your tablet.”
Zaina slid off the edge of the bed, eager to return to her quarters and see what this procedure offered. The prospect of getting out from under all her medical problems made her want to sing. She could get over this trauma, put in more hours at work, help more people, do more good. Her life would be hers again.
Since leaving him here was out of the question, she’d have the mental strength to help him. With more room for rationality, she’d be able to make a plan to get them both out of this situation without being crippled by her emotions.
I can finally be free.
22 – Too Good
Eight hours and forty-seven minutes. Major Abelard Blakesley gnashed his teeth, which vibrated from the grating of the blaring medical alarm. He schooled his resentment as he glowered down at the half-conscious imp who’d beat his record by over an hour. Worse, he hadn’t given up—just continued until he collapsed.
The impromptu conversation with Zaina earlier suddenly seemed like a bad idea. Not the part about the chip. If the doctors were careful, they’d curb her pathetic emotions without making her like Phoebe.
No, the part he should’ve put more thought into was what he’d said about Jori. His intention had been to drive a wedge between them so she’d be more open to his overtures. But what he really wanted was to retain his importance with MEGA-Man. Since discrediting Jori wasn’t working, and since the imp was too damned good at everything, his best option was to get rid of him.
He’d prefer to do it by assisting in his escape, but dare he go against Vance? It was either take a calculated risk or be stuck in this life of mediocrity. Or worse, fall so far down in importance that he became expendable.
He side-eyed the psychopath standing beside him. The demented gleam in the man’s eyes as he watched the boy suffer made Blakesley want to throw up. It also contributed to his ever-growing resentment.
Jori’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to push himself up with no success. Doctor Stephen Stenson shifted from foot to foot as he darted glances at Vance. Despite Blakesley’s distaste for this unnecessary mistreatment, a smile lurked behind his lips. Maybe he wouldn’t have to help the boy escape after all. It would solve all his problems if he died.
Vance signaled the go-ahead with a dip of his head, dashing his hopes. Doctor Stephen Stenson rushed to remove the electrodes and other things attached to Jori’s body. A med bot rolled up and the doctor scrambled for a few implements. The sweat on his brow betrayed his frantic worry. Perhaps Jori would suffer permanent damage. It would serve Vance right for pushing him so hard.
A diminished mental capacity wouldn’t be enough to keep genetic material from being harvested, though. Blakesley clenched his fists as the doctor moved the boy to a bed and attached an IV to his arm. Within minutes of him getting liquid, the alarms ceased. Jori groaned and alertness crept back into his eyes.
Vance wore a stupid boasting smile. “Not bad,” he said to the boy. “Not as good as me, but better than the major here.”
An acidic taste surged into Blakesley’s mouth.
“MEGA-Man will be pleased,” Vance added.
The boy’s face twisted in pure rancor. Blakesley suppressed the pleasure that welled up inside. It was obvious Jori didn’t want to cooperate. This made Blakesley look good. It also meant the boy was likely to refuse implants, further highlighting Blakesley’s value. Maybe I could use this in another way.
“What do you think, Major?” Vance said, his pleased smile still plastered to his face.
“He did well,” Blakesley replied. “But having great stamina isn’t much by itself.”
Vance dipped his head. “Agreed.” He turned to Mister Doctor Stenson. “Get him ready for the sentio test.”
Stephen’s mouth opened and closed. “I-I can do that, Sir. But if you want him at peak performance, he needs to rehydrate and get some rest.”
No! Blakesley wanted to shout. Let him test when he’s at his worst!
“How long?” Vance asked.
“T-twen—no, twelve hours. Perhaps a little more depending on how much sleep he needs.”
“Have him sleep here and monitor the details of his recovery. I want to know the science behind his healing ability.”
Blakesley’s jaw hardened. Damn it.
The doctor bobbed his head. “Yes, Sir.”
Jori’s frown deepened.
Vance pivoted on his heel to go. Blakesley flashed Jori a smile as a phony offer of friendship, then turned to follow.
“Stay here,” Vance said without bothering to look at him.
“Sir?”
Vance disappeared out the door. Blakesley frowned, wondering what the hell was expected of him. Well, at least it’s a good opportunity to feed this boy’s discontent. A wedge between Jori and his illustrious leader might work in his favor.
He returned to the boy. “I noted your emotions when Vance mentioned MEGA-Man,” he said carefully in case Vance foresaw this moment. “You should be honored.”
Instead of being offended, Jori emitted suspicion. “Why?”
“He’s the most important man in the galaxy. If he’s interested in you, it means he has great things planned for you.”
“Is that why you don’t like me?”
Blakeley flinched at the boy’s accuracy. “I like you just fine,” he blurted.
“Liar. You’re in on it too, aren’t you?”
Blakesley blinked. “In on what?”
“This test,” Jori stated.
“These tests are Vance’s idea, not mine.”
“No, I mean this game he’s playing. He wants to see if I’ll ask you for help in escaping.”
Fear seized Blakesley’s throat. Of course this was why Vance had told him to stay here. Good thing he’d played it smart.
“I won’t, though,” Jori said with a glower. “I don’t trust you.”
Perfect. Blakesley withheld a smile. If this conversation led to Jori escaping on his own, then he wouldn’t have to take any risks himself. “Sorry to hear that,” he lied, knowing very well the boy would detect it.
Jori pressed his lips flat. Blakesley considered what else to do or say to prod him into taking Vance up on his challenge. No one had ever matched that psychopath before and lived, but he kept that to himself. Let the boy find out the hard way. If he escaped, good. If he didn’t, even better.
For once, one of Vance’s stupid games would benefit him. Now, if he could just let Zaina believe he was the one working on a plan, he’d win her too.
23 – Sensations
Soft glowing patches of color developed amid the vast nothingness. Incoherent thoughts rippled by. Muted sounds became clearer—the whisper of movement, a voice, a periodic beep. Consciousness arrived peacefully at first, like a trickling stream. But as reality coalesced, discomfort swelled.
The more Jori woke, the more he noticed the lumpiness of his bed. It dug into his back, reminding him of the time he’d slept on a tree root during a survival excursion. If only he could do that again. He’d take extreme weather, meager nourishment, and wild animals over whatever Vance had in store for him next.
He filled his lungs and squinted against the bright lighting. Beige dominated this room with its patterned tiled walls, glossy countertop, and the faux-wooden cupboards. A burnt orange door wide enough to accommodate a recovery bed lay across from him. Two pictures of butterflies and flowers hung on the wall to his left. Despite the room’s claustrophobic smallness, its quietude diluted his worries. It was a pleasant change from the sterility he’d seen elsewhere.
He fumbled for the bed controls and found them on the side. The bumpy patterns on the buttons probably signified which function was which, but he couldn’t decipher them. Randomly pressing one made the area under his knees rise. The next button brought it back down. Another try didn’t seem to do anything until he noticed a heat against his backside. He pressed the one after it and nothing happened. Damn it. Several more attempts finally put him into a reclined position.
The orange door swished open. The Stensons walked in, Stephen with a friendly smile and Celine with an odd intensity as she viewed something from the MM tablet wrapped around her wrist.
“You’re awake,” the man said. “And your vitals look great. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been through a planetary landing in a freelance cargo ship.” The doctor cocked his head and frowned so Jori explained. “Most ships like that are older and tend to jostle.”
“Ah. So you’re not a hundred percent yet. Good.”
Jori almost asked what he meant by good, but Stephen’s worry reminded him of the impending test. Evaluating the extent of his sentio abilities didn’t sound so bad, but Vance would probably add a few demented twists.
“How long have I been here—in the infirmary?”
Stephen pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his own MM tablet. “Twelve hours and twenty minutes.”
Jori bolted upright, barely registering the protest of his muscles. “Is Zaina allowed to see me now?”
Stephen’s drooping features answered his question. Jori bit down his annoyance and it turned into concern. He used his senses to search for her. Her familiar lifeforce enabled him to connect instantly. She felt exactly as imagined, though her worry was somewhat dulled from only being half awake. He wished he could be there to help her somehow—and tell her he was sorry for being angry with her.
Celine reached over to remove Jori’s IV. Stephen placed his hand on her arm. “Not yet, dear.”
She shot him a blank look. “But he needs to get ready for his sentio test.”
Stephen patted her. “We’ll wait a little longer.”
“Now is better,” she stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t offer a reason, but her emotions reflected eagerness.
“Let the boy rest, dear.”
“That’s not necessary. He’s ready now.”
When she reached for the electrodes connected to Jori’s head, Stephen grasped her arm and gently turned her away. “Why don’t you review Divya’s metabolic panel?”
She huffed. “That’s boring.”
“But we need to find out what’s wrong with her.”
“I already know.”
“Did you treat her?”
“No. Too busy.”
Frustration showed through the tightness of Stephen’s face, but he kept his tone light. “She needs our help. Go take care of it. Then we can test Jori.”
“I don’t want to,” she said without malice.
“You must, dear. You must. Remember, we talked about this? We have many duties to attend to and can’t always pick the ones we’d rather do.” He walked her to the door, a sad love emanating from him. “So, let’s help Divya.”
A small smile crept across Jori’s face as he admired how Stephen still cared for her despite her inability to reciprocate. She consented but not with words or emotions. Her mind switched focus and she left with no hint of annoyance or resignation.
Stephen came back to Jori with downturned eyes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you rest for long.”
Jori understood. Vance didn’t seem like a patient man. “What’s this next test like?”
The doctor’s mood lifted a tad. “It will be much easier, just a little more time-consuming.” He licked his lips. “It’s um…”
“What?” Jori asked.
Stephen looked at his shoes. “I hate doing these things to you. It’s not right.” He shook his head. “Not right at all.”
The man emitted a guilt strong enough to make Jori’s own stomach hurt. The sensation reminded him of how his father had pressured Bunmi, an old teacher back home, into causing him pain. “It’s not your fault. I understand.”
“I wish there was something I could do.”
“Are you sure there’s not?” Jori leaned in and whispered. “Doesn’t he have a weakness?”
“If he does, I’m not certain what it is.”
“His premonition ability must have limitations.”
Stephen’s eyes darted about the room. “Well, yes, but I can’t tell you.” He glanced behind him at the door Celine had gone through. “It won’t do you any good anyway. You even try to outsmart him, and he’ll…” He flicked his hand. “You know.”
“Can you write it down?”
The doctor’s head wagged. “He sees what you see, hears what you hear, smells what you smell.”
