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Part eleven:
A Fallen Angel
The
team moved out just before dawn. There were five of them including Turbo. Two
of them were azures and the others were mixes. No hunters were brought. This
had been done because, ideally, there would be minimal fighting. They were to
slip in, find Bob, and then slip out. Once through the Barrier they would have
a clear fix on him, but getting to him was going to be fun. The one azure, an
almost white-skinned woman, had with her a device that would produce one
decently sized tear. When they had Bob, they would use it to make a portal
straight to a waiting hospital. "If
we find him processing at all," she said pointedly. She, like all the
others, was sure he would be dead when they found him.
Turbo
felt Copeland reassure him that Bob was strong and would survive. It drew up
pictures of their times together. Copeland was a good friend. Copeland, it
turned out, was very old and very renowned. It had been partnered with five
Primes and countless First and Second Lieutenants. In fact, it had never chosen
anyone that didn't make it to a very high rank. Turbo could not have wished for
a better keytool.
He
was jarred from the memories by the sudden smack on his back. "Wake up
kiddo. Time to roll." Their transport had reached the wall.
Carefully
they moved up to it, checking to see if there were any patrols. When their
pale-skinned commander was satisfied, they went through. They waited for Bob's
signal to clear, and when it did, headed out. He was in the center of her main
sector, in Maleficent, in Daemon's Citadel itself, somewhere on the upper
floors. They had little trouble getting to the castle, there really wasn't much
in the way of guards. Why should there be? No one would be random enough to
come here, right?
It
was that mentality that got them in with little effort. They moved up
ventilation shafts, keeping out of sight. But everything was not to go
perfectly. A weakness in the construction of one of the ducts caused it to come
crashing down as they moved through it.
They
leapt out of it and deleted the few viral constructs that had seen them and
readied for more troops. None came. Looking at the device they used to track
Bob, they saw he was either on this level or the one above. Now it was just a
matter of looking. They moved out of the room and into the hallway, clear.
Turbo was kept in the middle, as he was the least experienced by far, as they
moved down to the next room. They found it completely empty and were about to
move to the next one, when five viral constructs burst in. They managed to
destroy those as well, but not before an alarm was triggered.
This
was when they had to run. Before any orders could be issued, more of Daemon's
muscle was moving in. They scattered and Turbo quickly found himself lost and
alone. "Copeland?" he whispered, "Can you scan for Bob?"
Copeland responded by bringing up a display of Bob's location. Turbo smiled,
Bob was on this floor. He was quite a ways down this hallway to his left. He
carefully moved down to Bob. Once he ran into someone but Copeland's
restraining bands were very effective. He hit the viral with a rest command and
kept going. Turbo looked at the display again, as he reached a row of cells.
The guards appeared to had left to help fight. Copeland couldn't pinpoint where
Bob was exactly, and Turbo began to search every cell.
He
had gone through twenty three of them when he looked in a window and saw Bob
lying on the floor. The door was locked but Copeland had no trouble finding
something to use. Turbo opened the door and slipped inside.
Bob
was sprawled out like a puppet that had had its strings cut. His shirt was off
and his torso, arms, and legs were covered in his own energy. Deep gashes were
gouged across his chest and his arms. Bob was lying on his side facing the
door, his long silver hair unbound and spilled over the floor. His right leg's
wounds were the ones Turbo had seen inflicted, but others around it were new.
Some of the injuries were as wide as two of Turbo's fingers, with rough,
tattered edges, and some were thin, precision cuts. Others yet looked to have
been dealt with energy whips and hot irons. This nightmare had been done in
only one and a half cycles.
Turbo
froze for a moment, unable to process what he saw. He could hear his friends
breathing, it was shallow and raspy. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew
something was wrong, but he couldn't focus on anything, too over-powered by the
brutality of it all. "Bob?" He whispered as he took a step forward.
It was then that he saw it, when he was close enough to see over Bob's shoulder
a little. At the sight of it, Turbo's breath caught in his throat. He stepped
behind his oldest, dearest friend, unable to believe what he saw. But there it
was. There was no denying it. Where Bob's once graceful, silver wings had been,
were instead two deep gouges in his back. By the look of it, Daemon must have
ripped them off with her bare hands. Turbo rushed back to Bob's front and knelt
down beside him. "Bob?" he delicately lifted his head up and (keeping
clear of the holes in his back) began to pick him up. "Bob, it's me,
Turbo. Bob…?"
His
eyes opened only a fraction and his voice was barely audible and was intermixed
with small coughs. "Turbo…?
What…?"
"Shhh.
Don't talk, just hold on for me, will ya? I'm going to get you home. I
promise."
The
door swung open and Turbo looked up, ready to face Daemon herself. Instead what
he faced was his pale-skinned commander. She stepped in quickly, with two
others in tow. "You've found him.
Good. We've-" she stopped mid sentence when she realized that there
were no wings folded beneath Bob's still form. She just stared and the others
gasped or said things like "dear programmer". The shear shock of it
had them frozen, but Bob was hanging by a thin thread and there was no time for
this.
"So
throw the tear already!" Turbo ordered "We don't have much
time!"
They
snapped awake. She released the tear and formed it into the portal. Gently
lifting him up, Turbo stood and rushed through. 'Sweet code, I hope they can save him.'
Part twelve:
Waiting
Bob slept a long time. Cycles pasted and he stayed still. Turbo remained by his side the whole time. He felt so guilty about the whole thing, he almost felt he shouldn't be there. What right did he have wait by his side, when it was his fault? Would Bob even want to see him after this? He would have left had it not been for one thing, he was the only one there.
Bob
had always had trouble making friends. Non-azures assumed he would look down on
them and azures didn't like his friendship with Turbo and only hung around him
because of his status. And even the azure's that did like him wouldn't come.
They were all acting completely random about it. Even Wispt wouldn't show. Even
Bob's mother wouldn't show.
They
said it had been noble of him to bring Bob home, that it wasn't right that he
delete in that place. But they also said that it was wrong to try to save him.
The loss of his wings was too great of a shame to ask him to bear. He was
crippled and even if he survived, he would always be weak and sickly. "That's not a life." Wispt had
said, trying to make him understand. "It's
wrong to make him experience it. It would be kinder to let him delete before he
ever knows what's happened to him." No one would come, not that they
thought less of him because of it. Because it would be cruel for him to know
anyone had seen like that, let alone, friends and family.
"No," his mother had said, walking away him.
"I won't do that him. Better to
remember him the way he was."
Wispt
had begged him not to stay with Bob, "I
know you think you're being kind, but you're just going to shame him even
more." But, he couldn't leave him there, alone. It just seemed so
wrong to him. He had been trying to call Ezia, to tell her what had happened
and ask her what he should do. She knew him. But she was off on some mission
and couldn't be reached. So Turbo stayed.
He
sat there, waiting, "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I don't know
what do or say. I can't ever hope for you to forgive me, I'm just sorry. I'm so
sorry. What can I possibly say to you, nothing I could say would undo this,
would it? This was my fault and you've paid the price. Wispt told me not come
here. She said I would only hurt you more, and asked me what good it could
possibly do for me to stay.
"I
don't know, I can't just leave you here alone. I just can't."
"Very good answer, son." Turbo turned to see the Prime standing
in the doorway. "Best I've heard
ever." She was in her standard uniform, without the chains and as much
gold. She smiled kindly at him as she walked into the room, careful not to look
at Bob. "You were a good friend to
him."
He
laughed at that. "A good friend? It's my fault he's like this! I'm why
he'll never fly again."
"That may be true, but he knew it
was an honest mistake. You're just a kid. Kids are supposed to make mistakes.
That's what childhood is." She
stepped up to him and turned to keep her back to Bob. "And you're here, aren't you?"
He
looked at her puzzled, "But I thought azures saw this as mean. To be here
and see him like this"
She
smiled at him, "Yes, and you're
ignoring all of it. Doing what you think he'd want. Doing what you think is
right. And I think you just may be right. If nothing, he'd want you here to
tell you that he didn't blame you."
He
stepped back from her, angry and nearly shouting at her. "Doesn't blame
me?! How can he not? It was my basicness that did this to him, he only went
through the portal to save me. I did this to him! Me." Nearly in tears, he
fell back into his seat, "Programmer, why did this have to happen."
Laying
her hand on him, tried her best to make him understand. "He didn't blame you. We all would give our codes to save each
other. That's our lives, that was his life." She began to walk away. "You were a good friend to him."
He
drew himself back up and wiped the tears from his eyes. "He's not deleted
yet, so don't talk like he is. He hasn't given up. You'll see just how
'Unexpected' he can be." She smiled at him before leaving, not having any
argument to that.
Part thirteen:
Scars
Bob
woke up to a dull pain. Everything hurt. He had half expected to find himself
still in the cell, but sighed relief at the safe hospital room. When his vision
cleared completely, he saw Turbo sitting beside him, he had fallen asleep. He'd
thought he'd dreamt his friend rescuing him and wanted to at least pat Turbo's
shoulder for his courage, but the idea of moving at all was too hard.
His
memories of the attack were fuzzy at best, but one… one he remembered clearly.
He made a feeble attempt at moving his absent wings and got a blast of agony
for his effort. He groaned, and woke his sleeping friend.
Turbo
was up in a second, "You're awake! I'm sorry, I fell asleep. I…" His
surprised expression turned to worry and he spoke quietly. "How are
you?"
He
forced a smile and breathed out, "I feel
like the whole Azure sector fell on me. How do I look?"
His
partner forced a smile as well. "Like the whole Azure sector fell on
you."
Bob
tried to laugh, but couldn't. He closed his eyes and focused on not crying. He
couldn't meet Turbo's eyes as he asked, "My
wings…?"
Unable
to say it, the mix just shook his head and said, "I'm so sorry, Bob.
I…" Tears welled up in Bob's eyes and he stayed very still, unable to
grapple with the thought. "I… I'll go if you want. I'll understand. After
this… I'm so sorry." Turbo began to stand, when Bob reached out and
grabbed his hand.
"Wait. Wait, you don't have to go.
I know you're here to help. You can stay, I want you to stay."
"Why?
If it wasn't for me, you'd be fine. I'm to blame for this. I'm sorry, I…"
"To blame…?"
Turbo
again tried to leave, shaking his head and removing Bob's hand. "I'm not
asking you to forgive me. I've no right to ask that, not after what I did. I
just wanted you to know I'm sorry, that's all. That's all…"
But
Bob kept his hold on him, "Forgive
you? For what?"
"For
causing this. For going through that portal. For getting you captured
and…"
"This is not you're fault. You
didn't do this. Daemon did this, not you. You made a simple mistake, and then
you rescued me and sat with me all this time. You didn't do this, Turbo.
There's nothing to forgive."
Turbo started to sit back down and Bob placed his other hand on his. "Daemon did this, not you."
Turbo
finally accepted this and eventually he went out to tell the doctors he was
awake. The azure doctor didn't sugar coat it. He had sustained massive damage
to his code, he would never be the same. He was totally crippled, with no hope
of ever returning him to the way he was. Crippled.
The
doctor (careful not to look directly at him) apologized for his staff saving
him, saying that they had meant no disrespect. With his injuries as severe as
they were, the emergency staff had panicked and just hadn't thought. He went on
like this for awhile, then told him that the sheer fact that he had survived
was a testament to his strength. "You're
a fine man, the Collective will be the lesser from loosing you." He
softly laid a small black box on the table beside Bob. "You will be avenged. You were an excellent Guardian, an excellent
Guardian."
Bob
laid there for a long while after the doctor left, staring at the box. He had
thought he wouldn't hesitate, why would he. It was what was proper, what was
right. So why was he hesitating? 'Crippled'
he thought to himself and shuddered. He couldn't be crippled, he just couldn't.
It wasn't an option.
Reaching
over and taking the box, he opened it and looked at the small disk in it. All
he had to do was snap it between his fingers and the deletion command would
activate. That would be it. And yet he couldn't even pick it up. Why?
He
guessed that it was because of Turbo and his illogical guilt. So he put the box
back until Turbo really understood that he didn't blame him. He'd wait till
then.
Time
passed, and slowly Bob healed, somewhat. Turbo tried his best to comfort him,
but couldn't. He'd lost everything. "In a society that identifies
themselves by their physical abilities," a friend of his had told him.
"there's no place for a cripple."
He
had received word that Bob's engagement was called off and now he would never
find another woman to marry him. Not the way he was. Also, he couldn't be
Patriarch of his house, that would go to one of his younger cousins. That, and
no keytool would bond with him. His whole life was gone, everything and
everyone he had ever had was gone. Only he (and Ezia, he assumed) were left. It
was all gone and he could see that fact gnawing away at Bob.
It
was like he was already dead, drained of all energy and left for deletion.
Speaking rarely, he mostly just laid there. His misery was clearly visible, even
though he tried to hide it. He just didn't have the will to try anymore. He
felt hollow. He just wanted to delete. Just end this shame, this nightmare.
One
morning, he decided he was sick of lying there. It was over, everything. But
Bob wanted to face it. Once. Head on. So he drug himself up and, clenching his
teeth to the pain, stood up.
Across
the room was the closet. Its door was always open, in order to hide the mirror
on the outside. Bob walked over to it and with his eyes closed, shut it. He needed
to see it. He couldn't really believe it until he did.
He
inhaled deeply and straightened himself as best he could, and open his eyes.
He
focused on his face at first. It was untouched and his long hair was still
neatly pulled back. Daemon had intentionally left his face perfect, so it could
"always remind him how beautiful he once was", not that is was
exactly the way it was. The beating she had given him had damaged his code to
the core, and thus blunted his features somewhat.
His
chest and arms were covered with wide pale scars and unhealed wounds. From what
he could see, his legs and feet were just as bad, with his lower right leg
mangled beyond recognition. The doctors had done a wonderful job of piecing him
back together. If he waited for all the cuts to heal, he would be able to walk
around and such with almost no trouble.
He
then forced himself to look past his shoulders, at the empty space behind him.
That was too much. His heart just collapsed. This wasn't a life. It was a body
that didn't know when to quit. 'Well,'
he thought looking at the black box behind him, in the reflection. "I know when to quit."
He was about to turn and get it when Turbo walked in. He stopped just inside
the door, seeing Bob was up and looking at himself.
He
walked over to him, trying to help, "Oh, buddy… I'm so sorry." Bob
had closed his eyes. For Turbo to see him, in the bed, covered, was one thing.
But for him to see him like this…, Bob wanted to disappear. He couldn't stand
to be seen. Not like this.
Turbo
had stepped up behind him. Bob grimaced at his touch, but Turbo stayed,
"Bob, I'm so sorry. I just… I wish there was something I could do."
Bob
opened his eyes to this, he hated to hear Turbo beat himself up over this.
Looking at him in the reflection, Bob went to say something but stopped and
looked at the two of them.
They
didn't look that different anymore. He certainly couldn't call Turbo a
weakling, now Bob was as weak as he was. And just as grounded. Bob really
looked at his friend, for the first time.
There
he was, wingless and weak and what did he care? He and every other mix never
felt the less for not having all the gifts of the full azures. He was strong
enough to break into Daemon's citadel and get him out. Strong enough to get a
keytool. Turbo had none of the things that Bob was traumatizing about loosing,
and didn't care. Bob had always been the first to say that the mixes and sprite
Guardians were just as good as any azure, and yet there he was, falling to
pieces, 'and for what?' he thought. 'Wings do not a Guardian make', he had
once jokingly told his mother.
Bob
looked over them again and really saw both of them. "sickly and weak"
the doctor had said, 'What he meant was
that I'd be just like a mix or sprite.'
'What am I doing? I was about to delete
myself and for what? Because I've been dropped down to his level?'
It
was so ridiculous. He looked at Turbo's worried face and thought about what he
had almost done and just started laughing. And he couldn't stop.
Turbo
got very worried, "Bob?" Bob turned and leaned on his concerned
friend, still laughing at himself. He didn't even try to share the joke, he
couldn't begin to explain it. Not in his state. "Bob? Are you okay?"
"What?" he managed in-between laughs as he
wiped tears from his eyes.
"Are
you okay?"
Bob
slowly stopped laughing, thought about this a moment and looked back their
reflection… and smiled. "You know
what. I think I am."
