Chapter Thirteen

"Wait… I think he's opening his eyes!"

"Give him space! We'll see how he reacts."

With a bleary mind, Fox slowly opened his eyes and realized he was on a bed in a large white room. There were two doctors next to him, along with another fox he thought he had met somewhere before. The room was small – just a few chairs were to the right of him with some medical equipment to his left, decorating the edges of the grey-tiled floor. Even as his vision crystallized to normal, he noticed other machines nearby. Shocked and scared, he watched as they piped a chorus of clicks and beeps. He was hooked up to some of the equipment.

"Fox, Fox," a fox wearing dark sunglasses, black leather jacket, and blue jeans whispered. "Can you hear me, man?"

Fox moved his lips to speak, but found that he couldn't. He groggily shook his head in affirmation.

"That's good news man," The fox sighed. "Hey, don't be scared, man. We'll get you out of this as soon as we can."

Again Fox tried to speak, but something prevented him from doing so. He focused on his muzzle and found that a tube was hooked up to his mouth. A deliberate pull ripped it out, and he gasped for air. He felt like sitting up, but Fox instead chose to stay put. Slowing his breathing down, he looked around the room again and wearily studied his surroundings again, detecting more odd equipment, counters, and a great light hanging from the ceiling. Fox's gaze fell to one of the doctors. "Please, I have to know," he weakly demanded, "Where am I?"

One of the doctors cautiously stepped toward him, softening the steps of his shoes by walking heel to toe. "You are at Drawshk Metropolitan Hospital. I am Dr. McFass, and this is Dr. McGishev, graduates of the famed Cavask University. You have been unconscious for nearly two weeks, but you have remained in this hospital during the majority of your blackout." He paused as he glanced at a reading from one of his machines. "I helped you in the battlefield remember? Oh, how you were shaking, but then, for some reason, you stopped."

"I… I think I remember you."

Suddenly, the fox with the sunglasses moved in front of his face. "Hey Fox!" he elated. "Remember me, man?"

Fox tried to recall, but he instead grimly shook his head.

"Your memory should return completely very soon, Fox," Dr. McGishev informed. "It is merely a temporary side effect to the pain relievers."

"I remember a bridge, I think," Fox replied.

The fox with the sunglasses laughed. "A bridge? That's odd. It's probably just the medication, man. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah." Finally, after he stared at the vulpine for a while, something clicked inside of the Chaljsko fighter. "Jerimijo, is that you?"

"Yes!" he blasted. "They told me you were hurt and what you've been doing for the past four years. I didn't know you've become a hero without me!" He laughed. "I don't really pay attention to that stuff. But my jaw still smarts from when you belted me at the base! Ah, I'm all right. I'm more relieved to see you are alive. How you feeling, man?"

Fox fixed his attention on his arms. His gauntlets were removed, and now many tubes were embedded into his skin, pumping fluids into him. He sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I'm alright. I'm just trying to remember how I got here in the first place."

"Why don't you get some rest Mr. McCloud?" Dr. McGishev asked. "We shall discuss it later. Though you are breathing on your own now, your body requires large quantities of rest."

"I'm all right," snapped Fox, "just let me stand out of bed and walk around a little. Maybe that will restore my memory."

"No, stay there," Jerimijo ordered. "You need the rest." He paused and pulled a chair next to the bed, the steel legs grinding against the smooth floor. "Here, I have an idea. I now know what you've been doing since you left the base, so I'll tell you my side of the story."

Fox paused and turned to the doctors, who nodded in affirmation. "Well… okay, but I'm getting tired of this bed. It's too soft." He laughed. "After all, I prefer straw over cotton anyway."

Jerimijo messed up the sheets, and Fox pushed him away. "Heh, you always hated being treated well." He paused as he brought a hand to his muzzle, scratching it in deep thought. "Man, you've done so much, it makes my life look like a bore! But I had some fun. See, a week after you left, the base was destroyed by a Mafian assault. I had no place to go and I was unemployed, so I ran south until I reached this incredibly huge city. It was great Cavask, the city of truth, man. I guess it's true that I was a good swiftbike repairer, because that's what I did for the next four years." He laughed. "I had a fair amount of business, man. I also learned how to build bombs. I was working for the UUO off and on."

"Any children?" Fox asked.

"Not even a wife, man," Jerimijo replied. "I'm cursed or something, man. It's like I'll see a women walking alone right in front of the shop, so I'll come out, brush off my work suit, and say, 'good day, young flower.' She'll talk, but that's all. I just can't get passed that." He huffed out a depressed sigh. "Sometimes I wish the Almighty would take my useless life away. I don't have anything, I'm just a lowly mechanic that builds bombs."

"Don't ever say that!" He reached for his friend ad yanked his collar towards him. Noticing everyone staring at him, Fox laughed to break up the atmosphere. "Don't force it, Jeri. She'll come around. Just give it proper time."

"Yeah, yeah. That's what my father used to tell me."

Fox's attention began to wane quickly. He was irritated. I can't lie down in a bed being treated as if I'm sick – I need to get up and move around. I feel like Uno needs me right now.

With a slight grunt, Fox sat up. "Well, I'm better now, so I'll be seeing you soon, Jeri." Fox quickly slipped out of the bed, ignoring Jerimijo and the doctors' warnings, and set his feet firmly on the floor. He stood straight up but immediately collapsed to the ground like a wooden string puppet. Shocked, he sat up slowly, rubbed his legs, and noticed an odd sight in front of him. Where his feet and ankles used to be were now two shiny steel legs that went up to his kneecaps. His reflection in the polished steel stared back at him as he looked down at his new legs. Fox panicked. I'm all steel from my kneecaps down!

"What are these?" he choked. "What happened to my legs?"

Dr. McFass approached Fox and set an old hand on his shoulder. "You were struck by a grenade and it obliterated your feet, ankles, and about seventy percent of your shinbones: your tibia and fibula. Everything from there on up was okay, your patellae, thighs, etc. Everything else was intact, though you lost a lot of blood. We determined that the way you were positioned saved your life, as the soldier who was with you reported that you were on your knees. So instead of your back getting blown away by the bomb, which probably would have been fatal, your feet, being closer to the blast, were destroyed instead."

The memories all flooded back to Fox as the doctor explained the event. The grenade, Jerimijo, his past, his family, Maria, the wars, Fox remembered each one again. With memory was fully restored, he began to remember the pleasures as well as the pain. Still at a loss for better words and hoping to take his mind off unfortunate events, he felt his thighs inside his pants to make sure they were still real. Fox stared at his new legs again, paying close attention to his new feet, which looked more like curved steel shoes, and shook his head in disbelief. He tried to stand using the bed to hold on to while his arms pulled himself up amidst a collection of humiliating clangs and bangs. He stood about halfway up until he fell again.

"Why can't I even stand?" he shouted.

"We managed to connect your nerves and nervous tissues in your thighs to the steel legs while in surgery. Your quadricepses were altered slightly, but the soreness will die down with time." Fox noticed Dr. McFass trail off with his last words and nod with a slight sigh. "In layman's terms, we wired you up to them."

"I understood the first time you told me."

Dr. McFass smiled. "You should get the handle of walking before you know it, and soon you will be able to run as fast as you used to, maybe faster. Now come, let's get you back on the bed."

As Fox put a hand to his forehead, he noticed the jade bracelet that hung loosely on his arm.

"What's that?" Jerimijo asked. He pointed to the bracelet.

Fox looked up at him and clasped the jewelry to his wrist. Moving it across the fur of his thin arm, he was overwhelmed with emotions and memories. "I will never forget her," Fox solemnly replied. Jerimijo shook his head in affirmation once he realized who the former owner was.

Dr. McFass turned to Jerimijo and Dr. McGishev. "We've got to lift him up. Don't remove the I.V.'s in his arm. Be gentle with him."

Fox did not protest, as he was somewhat exhausted from the shock. When the two doctors and Jerimijo lifted him, a note fell out of his left pants pocket. "What's this?" Jerimijo asked. He picked up the paper and opened the note. Immediately, he scratched his full head of hair and laughed. "I can't read it. It's written in some crazy language, man. All these circles and dots."

Fox watched him as the two doctors finished placing him on the bed. The note now caught Dr. McFass's attention, and he held out his hand to obtain the note from Jerimijo. "Here, let me see it." He examined the paper for a lengthy moment and chuckled. "Nope, the letters are written in a beautiful script, though."

Dr. McGishev quickly grabbed the note and examined it, long and hard. Jerkily, he moved the note closer to his face and read it slowly. His eyes widened, and he bolted out the door in a fit of screams. "Hey someone! Hey anyone! Hey!"

"What was that all about, man?" Jerimijo asked.

"I guess he could read it." Fox scoffed as he shook his head.

The doctor came back and tried to catch his breath. He collapsed into a hard, wooden chair. Fox stared back at the man, trying to read the expression on his face. "Do you want me to read it?" Dr. McGishev puffed.

"Read it!" Fox shouted.

"Okay," breathed the doctor. He cleared his throat and calmed himself down as he removed a handkerchief from his coat pocket. "To the beneficiary of this letter: The man whom you have recovered this letter from is Fox McCloud, son of James or Jamano McCloud and Vikki McCloud. He can be easily identified by his odd green eyes that pierce one's mind. His parents have been enduringly faithful to the Unonian king and, at the time this letter was dictated, they now live in secrecy, protected in a small village in the Unonian interior, as slaves. To this day, I am sad to report that they will never see the light of freedom again, as it was the only way they could live undetected by the Mafia. They will raise their son through teaching him many lessons. They have vowed to turn him into a leader, and will not fail, for this child is chosen, according to the Da'velu. He will face hardships that will mold his very spirit, for the horizon of the future looks bleak for him and his family. He will learn from others and through pain as well, as the young slave's future is as dark and as confusing as the deepest Unonian grove, again according to the Da'velu. Upon reading this letter, if the vulpine named Fox McCloud is not deceased and in sound mind, he is next in line to the Unonian throne, by order of the King, Michelego Vo Casko II.' Then he signed it. This is his royal seal, right?"

"Yes," Dr. McFass immediately confirmed.

Jerimijo's mouth dropped wide open as he collapsed in a chair next to him. Fox sat up felt sick to his stomach. Dr. McFass had to sit down too.

Fox could not believe that the letter had been correct: he did face many hardships that molded his spirit, he did learn by pain and experience. But, what did the Da'velu mean by chosen? Were they aware of something else? Nevertheless, the news gripped Fox with fear. Now, as he gazed down at his tired hands, he realized he was the next king-to-be!

Jerimijo noticed Fox was not saying anything. He spoke, "Sire -"

Fox glared at him and immediately turned away. "I am not your superior. I am, and always will be Fox."

"But Fox, aren't you glad you will become the king of Uno one day?"

"Please don't let anyone know about this." He waited until everyone in the room nodded their heads. Then he paused and stared at his legs. "I cannot be your leader, for I am deformed."