Intelligent Design: Revelations to Apocalypse (30 page)

Better to be free and rule in hell
, Perez started to say, but Hydra’s smiling face receded rapidly. A strong, masculine face with deeply recessed gray eyes covered with heavy, concerned brows came into view. Desperate to speak and hold on to Hydra’s vanishing image, Perez struggled to find moisture in her dry throat. As her friend’s fading image passed by, she heard Hydra’s voice as clear as if the doctor was talking to her.

Remember me
, Hydra said.

“No…Don’t leave!” Perez croaked out.

The doctor, Medicus Paeoniis, was at first puzzled but helped Perez recover quickly by sitting her up and handing her water. Exhausted and dazed, Perez oriented herself and realized she was in the large infirmary—the trauma center specifically. The doctor had placed the cup of water in her left hand. Reflexively, Perez extended her right, but saw only clean dressing over her wrist. No hand. She stared at it as all the memories flooded back. The doctor moved the cup closer to her left hand in an attempt to distract her from her lost limb and to get her to drink the water. Perez pulled her gaze away from the gruesome sight and redirected her attention to the cup instead. Paeoniis spoke as he moved around her to check her vitals.

“You have been unconscious for four shifts. The fever you transmitted from the winged rattus was powerful but passed quickly. Your hand was severed cleanly and the blunt-force trauma inflicted by its jaw inadvertently kept you from bleeding out. You are lucky to be alive,” he said.

“The other women?” Perez croaked out.

An awkward silence fell. The faint vibrations were back, and she now felt Terra’s engines, turbines, and power generators through the ground.

“You are, once again, the subject of glory and song. Another battle—bigger than the last, to say the least,” the doctor said as a means of filling in the silence and avoiding the question. He took her cup and filled it again for her.

“And a subject of controversy as well, Immunes,” Centurion Dea Data said from just out of view of the examination table. Perez sat up and craned to see her.

“Centurion? What happened?” Perez asked.

Dee Dee came up beside her, put a reassuring hand on her right shoulder, and smiled. For a rugged commander of warriors, her eyes were soft—a deep brown that looked black.

“Liliana burst in on a senate meeting, breaking all protocols, and insisted that we follow her at once. A small, pale worker barging in on a closed-door session is something we had never seen. When she told us why, we came without hesitation. My only wish was that we had gotten there sooner.”

There was silence. Dee Dee’s smile faded just a bit and her eyes softened still more.

“How many did I lose? I know I lost Hydra and two others,” Perez said.

“There were two survivors on the other side with you that spoke of your insane acts of bravery. I assume you were in a reckless state of fury?”

“Yes,” Perez said immediately.

“Yes. The loss of a friend will do that. Nonetheless, the two workers survived with only minor injuries and the two you left on the other side to contain the threat are well, though they are wracked with guilt.”

“They kept the hole sealed tight, right? I didn’t want anything getting out,” Perez asked. Her eyes drifted back to her handless arm.

“They followed your orders and kept the danger contained. All of their actions—all five—were that of soldiers. They have each been granted an opportunity to escape their castes and to advance to the position of Milites, should they be interested,” Dee Dee explained.

Perez looked up from her arm and envisioned the pale, frightened young woman she had sent for help. Not a likely candidate for becoming a soldier.

“Liliana, too?”

Dee Dee gave a short chuckle, and her smile widened before she spoke.

“Liliana is smart. She would prefer to work in the Great Library and learn the ways of study. She is clever, for sure.” Dee Dee laughed again. Paeoniis finished with his tests and then addressed Dee Dee.

“Immunes will be ready for discharge in several cycles. The senate debates about this underworld will need to go on without her,” he said. His medical pronouncement and even voice were clearly something he had prepared carefully. Perez turned to look at Dee Dee, who nodded solemnly.

“What’s going on? Why is there a debate about what to do with the caverns?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. The doctor stared at Dee Dee in a way that spoke volumes, and her hesitation revealed more.

“Dea Data? What is happening? Why is this a big deal?”

It looked as if Dee Dee was struggling to find the right words when Medicus Paeoniis spoke for her.

“There are a number of families represented in the senate that do not recognize your discovery as officially yours because you are not fully Terran. They hold that your Earth origins preclude you from the right to give a first bid or determination about what to do with this newly discovered country. The fact that it was Perez the Elder who interpreted the charts and lore, and that you actually found the new world does not seem to matter.”

The doctor kept looking steadily into Perez’s eyes. His gray irises and worried look made him look kind and even tender, despite his large, sloping head and strong jawline. Images of Hydra lying dead and her final words about being remembered held Perez. As realization of the prejudice directed at her became clearer, she felt anger. Once the anger had a firm grip, conviction took hold and solidified her intent. Perez felt her eyes narrow and her jaw clench. Even though she had just one hand, she felt as if she were making two fists. She broke her gaze away from the doctor and looked at Dee Dee. She took in a deep breath, then spoke.

“Bring me to the senate debate,” she ordered. As she spoke, she tried to push herself out of the bed. Dee Dee’s surprise at having an Immunes give a Centurion an order quickly evaporated as she assisted Perez to a standing position.

“I have not discharged you, Immunes Perez the Younger,” Paeoniis said.

“Then come with me. I must go to these debates. Now,” Perez said. With Dee Dee’s assistance and despite Paeoniis’s complaints about her health, Perez pressed on. She was still dressed in a sterile white infirmary gown, so the doctor located his own pale blue medical smock for her to wear. The hair on her head was still so short that her healing scars were clearly visible, as was bruising on her face. Her reflection in a passing mirror stalled her movement for just seconds. With determination in her heart, she left the infirmary and stepped into the hallway. She moved down the crowded walkway with Terrans going about their business around her. At first, the sight of a patient walking with assistance from a centurion and an angry doctor seemed to go unnoticed—until a few Terrans recognized her. As she moved through the crowd, she heard various shouts directed at her: “rimor,” “positor,” “praetor,” and “regula.” These increased with frequency the closer she got to the coliseum. Terran citizens of all ranks and offices stopped and stood aside to let her through as they continued with their chanting. The growing crowd followed.

“What are they saying? Doesn’t ‘praetor’ mean ‘chief’?” Perez asked. She smiled at the shouting—it helped each step feel stronger. She kept seeing Hydra’s image and hearing her voice.

“Yes,” Dee Dee said over the growing din of shouts. “They all mean ‘leader’ or ‘founder.’ News about your discovery of the underworld has spread throughout all Terra, and Terrans have been waiting to hear from the founder—you—and are baffled as to why you have been left in the infirmary.”

“Because she is recovering, perhaps? Why do politics need to be so baffling?” the doctor complained. Perez couldn’t help but smile at his consternation. “Now see what’s happened? You are bleeding again. I will not stand for this…” Paeoniis warned.

The once-clean and sterile bandage was beginning to stain with fresh blood. The bright red stood out starkly against the white dressings.

“Doctor, please. I will make sure you stay with us and remain at her side. She must go. It is her right,” Dee Dee said. “And look, Medicus Paeoniis, we are nearly there. Why turn back now?” she added.

With the crowd’s roar escalating in the open air, she was positive that all in the coliseum must have become aware of her approach. Her heart was heavy from losing Hydra and the others. Her father’s absence weighed on her, too. As she entered the short hall that led to the large arena’s doors, she held on to one of her father’s favorite sayings: “Old men have dreams. Young men have visions.” The double, reinforced coliseum doors opened, allowing her direct access to the floor. In the center of the theater, rather than open space for combat as she last remembered, there was a podium for a speaker to use in addressing the senate. Upon her entry, the crowd’s shouting ceased and a silent influx of Terrans flowed into the public stands and just outside the open doors to hear what she would say. She carefully removed her hand from Dee Dee’s, indicating that she wanted to walk to the podium alone. Paeoniis came to her side quickly, pretending to check her bleeding wrist. He spoke quietly and quickly.

“You must wait until someone from the senate gives you their time to speak. Legate Clematis will ask and Dux Cloelius will record. When Cloelius makes her way to you with her tablet on, you will know that you have been given permission to speak. Be swift.”

Perez nodded. The doctor moved to stand behind her, with Dee Dee. Without assistance, Perez walked to the podium and waited. She scanned her audience and was grateful to see Clematis in place, looking more regal and formal than she had ever seen her before. As Perez continued to scan faces, she saw no one else familiar except Dimitra, mother of Vista, Leader of the House of Ferris. Perez’s heart sank. Saving Vista from the rattus years ago had solidified that family’s power. But just as before, Perez was positive that Dimitra would withhold her support for her to address the senate. She continued scanning, and found the next worst set of people: the entire Iratus family sat with arms folded and stares that could kill. Perez’s victory in the arena had shamed the Iratus.

“Quis dabit tempus vītae esse ad hoc senatu Immunes Perez?”
she heard Clematis say in her deep, official voice. There was silence. Seconds ticked by in Perez’s head as a thickening feel of tension built exponentially. She felt as if she were dying a slow death.

“
Vade in domum tuam
,” Perez heard the elder from the Iratus family say through a scowl. Laughter rang through their group and spread to some others. Perez did her best to translate. She figured she had been told to go home. Perez looked down for a moment, then she put both her hands on the small podium for all to see. The chuckling stopped at the sight of the missing hand and bloody stump. Perez did her best to remain straight-faced. She wanted to weep. Above all, memories of Hydra and her father made her want to cry. The seconds ticked by. She felt defeated.

“You will have my time,” a deep female voice said. Perez looked up to see who had given her a chance—and in her native tongue. Clematis arched her eyebrows in surprise, a major feat for Terrans. She was about to say something, but appeared to take a moment to think about it.

“Dimitra the Eldest, Mother of Immunes Vista of Delta Mezzanine, Leader of the House of Ferris, has given Immunes Perez the Younger her time to speak.”

A massive roar erupted from the public seats and outside the coliseum—clearly approval. Cloelius approached Perez while all the time trying her best to suppress a broad smile. She took a position just in front of Perez, then dropped down a little bit to give Perez the appearance of even more height and to be sure that her bloody dressing would show.

Overwhelmed with surprise and joy at finally getting some hint of approval from the House of Ferris, Perez took in a deep breath and wiped her tears away quickly. Once the crowd’s roar died down, Perez listened to her heart and inner voice. Old works she had been forced to read for her humanities program, literature, and the classics immediately came to mind. All the years of avoiding the great Earth authors came full circle when her father brought some of those same books into their home. They were now all well-worn and treasured. Silence finally fell. Her time was now.
I won’t forget you, Hydra.
She turned to the woman who had given her a chance, gave a deferential nod to Dimitra. As always, Dimitra sat stoically in her seat and watched.

“Thank you for your time Dimitra, Leader of Ferris, my adopted house. I am honored.”

In an unusual display of emotion, Dimitra nodded back. As she spoke, she heard a translator’s voice echoing her words into Terran language for all to hear and understand.

All right. This is it.

“I am fortunate to be a child of two worlds. Earth and Terra. When I arrived here so many years ago, I was granted the honor of assisting in keeping our secret by maintaining the holographic emitters.”

“And that is what you should continue to do, Earther!”

The crowd burst into hisses and a loud gavel crashed down onto a loud bell to restore order. Perez didn’t need to look at who had yelled out the harsh remark. Instead she looked up at Clematis, who motioned armed ceremonial guards that had been standing aside quietly to step forward and to make their presence known.

The noise fell back into silence.

“There will be order in this senate,” Clematis said. She looked around the entire coliseum and then nodded to Perez to continue. Just as she was going to start laying out her argument about how to use the land, she was hit by an idea. In just seconds, she decided to abandon the logical argument she was planning to make in favor of a rousing, heartfelt speech. It all became clear to her.
All those books…those stories…

“Old Terrans have dreams. Young Terrans have visions,” Perez started. She moved from behind the podium to stand in full view and to use her hand to punctuate her statements. The echo of her translated words elicited roars of approval from the spectators. The cheers died down immediately, though, when Perez continued. Everyone was waiting to hear what she would say.

“We have an opportunity to once again hunt in open spaces, to hunt in clans as our ancestors did on Venus and Earth. No longer must we live in enclosed spaces of recycled air and fading power but rather on the fields of our new, discovered underworld where rattuses and winged monsters now rule. We have an opportunity to not only return to our ancestral hunts in packs, but we can now discover, explore, and tame a dangerous, wild frontier. We can hunt our food rather than hope it finds our traps. We can pick huge mushrooms to feed all our numbers. We can eat new foods, fruits, and mint. We can breathe fresh Terran air and feel the real soil beneath our feet. And while we cannot walk upon the surface of our home, we can tread in the very core of Terra. And when the Jovian planet erupts into a new sun, as fire, brimstone, violent lightening, and tornadoes threaten our enclosed mezzanines, markets, and launch bays, we will laugh at it from our new home below and say, ‘Is this all you have?’”