"Why is it taking so long?"
The synth that served as a medical receptionist smiled at Jupiter. She supposed it was programmed to do that, and that the programming was meant to keep agitated family members calm. But Jupiter was far beyond agitated, and no level of smiling from a robot would correct that.
"Mr. Wise's operation is proceeding as planned. No need to worry, your Majesty."
Caine had been in surgery almost sixteen hours now. He was getting his wings back, finally – after Kiza's recode, and after Stinger had gotten his own wings, just like he'd asked. He'd been patient and now it was his turn to receive what had been taken from him.
Jupiter had sat with Kiza when Stinger went under the lasers, and that had taken little more than seven hours. Kiza had been a nervous wreck, especially after meeting the surgeon, who'd said right to Kiza that he didn't like working on Splices. Jupiter had to restrain herself mightily as she explained to the surgeon that if Mr. Apini's procedure went any way other than perfectly, there were going to be problems with his practice.
Afterward, she'd found Caine a different surgeon altogether. But maybe that hadn't been such a great idea after all.
Kiza and Stinger both offered to sit with her while Caine was in surgery, but she'd declined. Stinger was still in the throes of putting together a complete security detail and training them properly; Kiza was studying for exams and writing essays for applications to various institutions. Jupiter had decided she'd be fine, and she'd just read as she waited. She had a lot of reading to do.
But now it was sixteen hours later, and there was no word from the surgeon, and there was no newly-winged Caine.
And Jupiter had no more patience for sitting, or reading, or waiting. So she paced.
She was on her fourth or fifth lap of the room when Kiza and Stinger walked in, all smiles that melted when they saw her agitation.
"He's still in surgery," she said. "Sixteen and a half hours. Yours took seven. What the hell, Stinger?"
"I'm sure it's fine," he replied, exchanging a worried look with Kiza. "I'll just go talk to the attendant – give me one moment."
Jupiter paced back and forth in front of Kiza, who remained silent, while Stinger spoke to the attendant. It was all the same questions she'd asked, all the same responses she'd received, until Stinger made a request.
"Her Majesty, I think, would like to observe."
All at once Jupiter felt slightly foolish – she'd forgotten she was royalty, which meant she usually just had to ask for what she wanted. It was easy when someone she loved was at risk – when faced with the possibility of a botched operation by a careless surgeon on Stinger, she was quick to pull rank. It didn't occur to her to use the same power to ease her own suffering.
Stinger smiled as he held out a hand to gesture the way through the door with the medical synth. She blushed as she took Kiza's hand and followed.
"All you have to do is ask, Majesty," he said. She smiled and thanked him.
They were led down a corridor and up a flight of stairs to a little room that overlooked the operating theater. "It may be quite graphic," said the synth. "Observe with care." And she (He? It?) left them to do so.
Jupiter took a deep breath and approached the window. Since she hadn't let go of Kiza's hand, the younger girl followed.
It was graphic, but blood had never bothered Jupiter much. Caine was laid out, face-down, on the operating table. There was an incision made from the back of his neck to his tailbone; it looked like his entire spine was exposed. The surgeon was right next to Caine, his gloved hand on Caine's right bicep.
"They have to be very careful," Stinger said, low and comforting on her left side. "Nerves are a touchy business, you know that. The wings are intertwined with everything, not just the nerves – the skeleton, the musculature. Everything has to be wired precisely, or he won't be able to control them."
"I just don't understand what's taken this long," she replied. "Yours didn't take nearly as long."
"Different surgeon," said Stinger.
"Different body," added Kiza. "Which is more to the point, I think."
Stinger's voice was unexpectedly sharp. "Kiza."
Jupiter turned a confused face toward him for a moment, and father and daughter exchanged scowls. Then she turned back to the proceedings. "Usually surgeries are quicker and easier on younger bodies," she said thoughtfully, as she watched the surgeon feed a wire down along Caine's spine. "Why would it take longer – so much longer – on Caine? He's the younger one."
"Dad."
"Shut it, Kiza."
"Dad, if you don't, I will."
"No, you won't."
"Dad, she's going to find out anyway. The surgeon will probably brief her."
Stinger fell silent, and Jupiter's attention was drawn away from the intricate work taking place on Caine to the argument between her chief of security and his little girl, who Jupiter had discovered was just as fierce as her father.
"What am I going to find out?"
Kiza's eyebrows rose as she addressed her father. "D'you want to step out?"
He glared a moment, and then shook his head. He walked a few paces away and sat down.
"Don't blame him," was the first thing Kiza said. "He doesn't like to think about it. If it were me, I wouldn't either."
"What is it?"
"When Caine bit – whoever he bit," she began, "Dad spoke for him. He took part of the blame – you know that part, yeah?"
Jupiter nodded. "Yeah."
"When they took Dad's wings, they made Caine watch. It's not a pleasant business."
"They told me that," replied Jupiter, and then she tilted her head in the direction of the surgery. "I can understand why."
Kiza drew a breath. "Right. Well, they made Dad watch when they took Caine's. Only, it was worse."
"Worse?" Jupiter didn't want to know, she really didn't. Her gut clenched in anticipation of hearing what she didn't want, but probably needed, to know.
Kiza put her hand on Jupiter's bicep, knowing she'd be mad. "They took Dad's first. And then-"
"And then they shackled me," spat Stinger, unexpectedly. "Like the worst kind of criminal, like I was feral, like I'd done what Caine did." Jupiter and Kiza turned to face him. He leaned forward with his head in his hands. "On my knees, Skyjackers everywhere. Ones I'd hand-picked, ones I'd trained, ones whose lives I'd saved. Pain shooting through my every nerve, Caine's voice begging me to stop, to renounce him, to shut up, still ringin' in my head. And then, he was there, in front of me – Caine – on his knees, muzzled, his face battered, dried Entitled blood still on his chin."
Jupiter caught his eyes when he looked up. She was transfixed and didn't dare say a word; his gaze was unfocused.
"I'd never seen him look so bloody wretched. He wouldn't look me in the eye, he was so ashamed. Just kept his head down. Kept saying he was sorry – he didn't understand – he didn't know what happened. I told him to shut up. I told him it wasn't so bad. He called me a god damned liar." Then Stinger chuckled humorlessly. "Turns out he couldn't have been more right." He shook his head, and put his face in his hands.
Jupiter shifted her eyes back to Kiza, who grasped her hands.
"They tore the wings out of Caine's back with their bare hands," she said, and tightened her grip when Jupiter gasped in horror. "They didn't disconnect anything; they didn't even use proper tools, just an axe. Dad said he'd never seen anything like it, never heard of such a thing."
"Jesus." Jupiter squeezed her eyes shut and was silent for a long moment, trying to focus her thoughts on Caine now, the fact that he was well now, he was healthy now and getting his wings now with the help of a competent, fairly-minded surgeon. But still. . . . "And they made Stinger watch?"
Kiza nodded. "Caine's got a lot of damage to repair. That's why it's takin' so long."
"I really don't understand," said Jupiter. "Why did they act so quickly – why doesn't Caine remember? He was what, seventy, when it happened? If nothing like that had ever happened before, why would he have snapped, all of a sudden?"
Kiza raised an eyebrow. "Conveniently when he had no comrades nearby? I don't know," she said. "It's a dodgy business, no mistake. But your Majesty . . . Caine is a Splice. We haven't got rights. It's a bit like how Terrsies deal with rabid dogs – no one cares why, they just get put down."
Jupiter shook her head at Kiza's words, and turned to watch as the surgeon continued to work on Caine. "That's what he thinks of himself, on top of it," she whispered. "It just breaks my heart. Does no one understand?"
"You do," Kiza replied, and tears welled in her eyes for a moment. "You do, and that's – I don't know how to tell you what that is . . . how much it means, your Majesty."
Jupiter pulled the younger girl in for a hug. Hearing Caine's voice whisper the honorific was its own pleasure, but lately, when Kiza or Stinger said it, it was becoming something else entirely. Certainly there was respect there, but it was far beyond that. It was like fealty in her ears, filling her heart with purpose upon each utterance.
"I don't know what I can do," she whispered. "I never dreamed the universe was so beautiful and terrible all at once."
"You have to be like the universe," said Stinger as he approached once more. "You've got to figure out how to stay beautiful when you need to be terrible . . . in the right measures, at the right time." He reached for Kiza when Jupiter released her, and gave her a grateful squeeze.
Jupiter nodded and turned back to Caine's surgery. "I can't do it without him," she said, her fingers tapping against her lips. Then she turned to look at Stinger, whose eyes were closed as he kissed his daughter's head. "Or the two of you."
Stinger smiled and pulled Jupiter in with his right arm as he held Kiza with his left. "Shall we have a seat, your Majesty? Seems like it'll be a while. I could get you a cup of coffee."
Jupiter smiled and thanked him, and took a seat with Kiza to wait.
Roughly four hours later, Stinger was shaking her shoulder gently. Despite the coffee, she'd dozed against Kiza's side.
"I apologize for waking you, your Majesty, but you'll want to see this."
Jupiter sat upright, jostling Kiza in the process. "Is everything okay?" Stinger gave her the tiniest of grins, and nodded. She rose and followed his gaze to the window that looked out over the operating theater. When she reached it, she smiled.
Caine was sitting upright on the operating table, facing the surgeon. His back was toward her, allowing her to see, for the first time, the wings he'd just been given. They were unfurled, at rest against his back, black feathers mottled with brown, and an iridescent shine to them. Even in the harsh light of the operating theater, they were beautiful.
"Oh my god." Jupiter's eyes filled, and she splayed a hand against the glass.
"Looks normal again," commented Kiza, who was smiling next to Jupiter. "Normal as any splice looks, anyway."
Jupiter giggled, and marveled a little at the fact that she couldn't see any sign of an incision, despite having seen Caine's spine not five hours ago. "He's okay," she whispered, mostly to herself, mostly to shove the thoughts of because people juice out of her head. She watched as the surgeon led him through a series of exercises, presumably meant to ensure that the wings, and everything else, were in working order. He moved his neck back and forth, lifted his arms to the side and above his head, and then got shakily to his feet.
He walked a few paces forward, and then turned to walk left and right. He stood one one leg, and then the other, and despite Caine appearing a little more pale than usual, and a little wobbly, Jupiter breathed a sigh of relief.
Then the surgeon caught her watching, and smiled up at her with a nod. He said a few words to Caine, who promptly turned around. With a weary smile, he stretched his wings out slowly to show her his new limbs.
The span was impressive, nearly filling the operating theater, and Jupiter had to laugh a little as he knocked a cart full of medical implements astray, which sent one of the nurses running to catch it before it tipped over. But she admired the wings as he apologized to the nurse, and blew him a kiss, and Kiza tugged on her arm to encourage her to come back down to the waiting room.
It was only a few minutes later when the Dr. Monk, the surgeon, led Caine out. He was fully dressed and walking on his own, which confused Jupiter – shouldn't he be in a wheelchair, at least, after all of that pulling and re-wiring? He was also still pale and clearly tired, but smiled his usual not-quite-a-smile at her.
"They're gorgeous," was the first thing she said when he released her from their embrace. "How do you feel?"
"Sore," he replied, and then nodded toward Dr. Monk. "He did a lot of poking around."
"Your Majesty," said the surgeon with a nod so deep it looked like a bow. "The procedure went very smoothly. I hope you are pleased with the results?"
Jupiter liked Dr. Monk, she really did, but his expectation that it was her pleasure sought in a twenty-hour surgery on Caine annoyed her. "I'm happy he's doing well," she replied. "But they're not my wings; he didn't get them for me." She turned back to Caine expectantly.
"Oh yes! I'm sorry, I quite forgot. Haven't done work for the Legion before, you know. Mr. Wise seems to be doing quite well."
She tipped her head at Dr. Monk. "So should we maybe ask him, then?"
"I'm good," volunteered Caine, and it was apparent that despite his amusement at Jupiter's agitation, he was done in. "Just need a nap."
"Well – you go on and get one, then," said Dr. Monk. "You'll need to rest for a full 48 hours before your first flight."
Caine growled under his breath a little, but thanked the doctor all the same.
"Don't you think it's best if he just stays overnight?" asked Jupiter of Dr. Monk. "It just seems like such major surgery – I mean, you were in there for more than 20 hours."
Dr. Monk's otherwise jovial face softened a little, and he approached Jupiter. "Your Majesty," he said quietly, "I was able to bend policy for an Entitled, but I don't think I could break it. You know how to get a hold of me if anything happens – please, don't hesitate." He walked away whistling.
Jupiter scowled at Caine. "I don't understand-"
Caine just shook his head. "It's enough that he took the time to do it right," he said. "This is a humans-only surgical facility. No level of righteous indignation, even from an Entitled, will get me even a couch to sleep on in here."
Jupiter's scowl deepened, and Kiza put her hand on Jupiter's shoulder to help steady her. "Remember what I said earlier. Now's not the time to be terrible."
Caine gave Kiza a tiny, appreciative nod, and then turned back to Jupiter. "I promise, I'm just fine."
He wasn't fine, not perfectly anyway; Jupiter could see the fatigue in his eyes. But Kiza was right; whether it was fair or not, there was no reason to push the issue just now. Caine needed sleep. So she smiled, and nodded, and they left to board the Legion planet jumper, bound for Earth.
Caine was perfectly ready to pull up a hunk of floor and pass out, but Jupiter insisted he wait until she prepared one of the very utilitarian bunks for him. She made it as comfortable as she could, as quickly as she could, and Stinger was just getting ready to break orbit when she tucked him in, fully dressed except his boots. He asked if she'd stay with him, and of course she couldn't say no, so she slipped her own boots off and crawled in beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, and fluttered his wings.
"I cannot wait to fly," was the last thing he whispered before nodding off, his queen pressed against him, petting his hair. Jupiter smiled and kissed his head.
Thanks for reading!
