Gwen closed the door to the room where Cordelia was resting, trying to believe her reassurances that everything would turn out right. Of course the Thermian medical staff would be capable, of course they could deal with the injures. She looked across the room, seeing the landing party, every single one of them burned, bruised, and cradling injured limbs, except for Angel, who wasn't moving at all. He didn't look burned, but she could see the bruises from here, around his neck and over his arms.
Cordelia had known him for years; surely she wouldn't be able to hide doubts about Angel's ability to recover? He just looked so still, and it bothered her. People shouldn't be that still, even unconscious there should be some movement.
Slowly, she edged around the doctors and nurses, hoping not to bump into any of them and thus disrupt a treatment. She didn't think there were really supposed to be this many patients at once, but gradually she realized that while everybody was injured, most of them weren't that severe. None of the medical staff seemed to be worried at all.
Finally, she was standing beside Angel, and she could see the bruises encircling his neck. His chest and the side of his face had been splattered with something dark green, and she looked around for something that she could use to clean it away. He wasn't breathing, there was no pulse on his bruised neck, and when she touched him, he felt cool. The whole situation gave her the creeps.
One of the nurses gave her a soft cloth and a small container of warm water, and she started to wipe the sticky green stuff away from his face. Knowing that he wouldn't answer, she still spoke the question, "What is this anyhow, and how did it get all over you?"
"That would be the blood of the Dominionite," One of the security guards spoke, looking away as a nurse did something to his burned arm. "Mr. Angel was fighting Na'triss, and the Dominionite was trying to pound him into the paving of the underground cavern. But he was determined, and in the end, despite all the punishment Na'triss could inflict, Mr. Angel was able to slay the Dominionite, removing the head completely from the rest of the body. It was rather impressive, and a bit messy."
"oh." She looked back at Angel, uncertain how to respond. She could still remember the face of the first Dominionite warlord, Sarrais, projected larger than life on one of the wall sized view-screens. He appeared in her nightmares regularly.
As she wiped over Angel's forehead, it felt almost like it rippled beneath the cloth, and when she pulled her hand back to dampen the cloth again, his face had shifted. While still bruised, he now had the vampire ridges over his brow, and she could see the tips of sharp fangs between his lips. There was a faint movement, as if he was taking a slow breath.
She remembered Cordelia's words, that Angel would be fine once he got enough blood into him. She also remembered Angel's words, about how he had to battle the demon inside of him, resisting the temptation to sink his teeth into living people and drink. She took a step back, her heart suddenly pounding, mouth sour with fear. "Nurse?"
"Yes, Lieutenant Madison?" the nurse spoke, half turned to face her.
"I think Mr. Angel is waking up. We need to get him some blood, right away." She could feel herself shaking. "If he starts to move before he's really awake and thinking clearly, this could get very ugly."
"Thermians are stronger than human, Lieutenant Madison. We should be able to restrain him if need be." A second nurse spoke, calmly stitching up a gouge along a security guard's arm.
"He's a vampire," she whispered, not looking away from Angel. "That changes the rules for him."
"Mr. Angel is stronger than a human. Stronger than most Thermians. I would rather not have to try to restrain him," the security guard spoke, glancing at Angel over his wounded arm. "If he can rip the head from a Dominionite, I think he could cause us great pain as well."
"The Princess said that he needs blood, and I'm starting to think that the sooner he gets it the safer we'll be," Gwen added.
A pair of nurses came over, one carrying several loops of thing tubing, and the other pulling a stand with a large bag of red fluid that could only be blood. They quickly set up an IV, and the blood started flowing through the tubing, heading towards Angel's arm. There were careful inspections of his bruises, and one very carefully looked at the sharp fangs, a few startled sounding clicks emerging from her throat.
Angel still wasn't moving, but somehow, he seemed to relax. Still nervous, she took a careful step towards him. If he was waking up, someone needed to keep an eye on him. She reached out, touching his hair, feeling a layer of… stuff encrusting the dark strands. Disturbed, she moved her hand to his cheek. Slowly, her fingers moved up to his brow, tracing over them until his features changed back to the more familiar human face.
"Please be okay. Please don't be a danger to the rest of us," she whispered.
End part 47.
"I'd really like to say that we did it," Jason muttered, frowning as the doctor shone a light into his eyes.
"Commander? I need you to remove your shirt. The scanner indicates that you've taken some damage to your ribs, they will need bandaging for support." The doctor stepped back, putting down the tiny flashlight.
Slowly, Jason started to remove his shirt. Every time one of his arms moved, or he took a deep breath, pain stabbed at him. "They managed to launch a shuttle. Someone got away from us, and I don't like it."
"Doctor… Something like that needs to be relayed to Malthesar. It could be very important." One of the wounded security men spoke, looking away as a pair of nurses did something to his arm.
"I'll establish a communications link, you can try to explain as I bandage your ribs," the doctor conceded.
Jason hissed as cold fingers touched his ribs, not at the center of pain, but still over tender flesh. "Oww! What are you doing?"
"Your ribs have been bruised, and I am attempting to determine if any of them have been cracked. They will need careful wrapping, which will need to remain in place for several days," pausing, the doctor gave him an amused look. "I assume that you will want this support to be under your clothing."
"What did your comment mean, Commander Taggert?" The question came from the same doctor that had repaired his knee.
"We went down and took out the flunkies. Their extra security and expendable labor has been expended. Angel killed the bug-man," Jason winced as his ribs were wrapped. "Unfortunately, they launched a shuttle."
The doctor just shook his head, muttering, "Never a simple mission with you, Commander Taggert. Thankfully, I will not be expected to deal with the shuttle."
"The shuttles can not go very far," spoke one of the security men. "Unless they have a ship waiting to meet them, they will suffer a slow death as the shuttle's resources give out."
"Ugh. Not a good way to go, stuck in space with your resources going. Would it be air? Or maybe heat?" Jason shook his head, trying not to picture people freezing in space, or suffocating as their air supply ran out. Maybe they could just get hit by an asteroid and go fairly fast.
"Commander Malthesar will be informed, of course," the doctor assured. "The greatest worry is that their shuttle will not run out of resources in the midst of space."
For a moment, Jason didn't understand the doctor's reasoning. Then, as he considered the other options, it dawned. "You think they might have allies, or find and take over a ship."
"Yes, and we can not know what happens unless we hear from them again or find the shuttle." The doctor finished wrapping his ribs, and gave him a small bottle of large orange pills. "Take one with a large glass of water, no less than six hours apart."
Jason nodded, pulling the jacket back over his shoulders. Glancing around the medlab, he shivered at the sight of Angel, a tube of blood flowing into his arm. Bruised Thermians were everywhere. "Right, I'm going to go back to my room and get a bit of rest, it's been a long, painful day."
Jason walked out of the infirmary, trying to remember which way to go for his room. He managed to get there eventually, after a few wrong turns. Collapsing onto his bed, Jason closed his eyes. Adventure was a lot more painful than just playing an adventurous starship Commander on television. He just hoped that they'd get home without any more problems.
As he tried to settle into sleep, his mind formed a picture of the shuttle, now against the backdrop of space instead of hurtling out of the ruined spaceship underneath LA. He imagined that it would look very much like the one that had carried him to Earth and then back to the Protector. Inside, there would be some of the Thermian pirates. Would they look human, or would they be all Thermian octopus-like? Had they left in a panicked bid for escape, or did they have allies that they planned to meet up with? Would they die in unforgiving space? It was so much like the teasers for next week's episode that he could almost hear the escaping pirates laughing.
End part 48.
Fred was currently in Texas, combining a family visit with some sort of science and technology convention that she'd wanted to attend. She wasn't expecting any problems, and had promised to call if anything drastically weird had arisen. He'd been away with Virginia, trying to relax on her boat. Some of her father's business dealing had surfaced, raising a few more problems, though thankfully none of them had involved any near-sacrifices on her part. He'd returned a little earlier than expected and found the Hyperion was completely empty.
He didn't like the situation. Not one little bit.
There had been a mug with dried bits of plant crusted to the bottom, much better than finding a mug with crusted blood over the bottom. Unfortunately, the dried bits had held enough of their scent that he could identify the potent pain-killer. Between that mug and the emptiness of the hotel, he had a few clues as to what had happened.
Presumably, Cordelia had experienced a vision, leaving her in enough pain that Willow had given her that potion. Considering what had been written about that potion, it was something that should be taken with caution, and caution wasn't something that Cordelia was known for. Willow could be quite impulsive about magical things as well, though she generally meant good by her actions.
Trying unsuccessfully to calm himself, Wesley pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. If he could get into contact with someone, then he could ask them what the hell they thought they were doing. First, he dialed for Angel, hoping that the vampire might simply have been delayed by sunrise.
Angel's office started to ring.
Swearing, Wesley hung up. It wasn't that much of a surprise that Angel hadn't taken his phone, he regularly left it behind or forgot to charge the battery. Certain aspects of modern technology gave Angel more problems than others, and cell phones were one of those areas.
This wasn't an insurmountable problem. Cordelia would never forget her cell phone, though if she was working on a part, a call might go straight to voice-mail. He dialed Cordelia's phone, hoping to hear her voice.
Her phone didn't connect. He listened as it rang and rang, far beyond the point where it should have gone to voicemail. If the battery had died, he would have been directed to voicemail. Cordelia was generally very good about checking calls on the second line. The only possible explanations were that she was either on a call too important to switch out of – something that sounded rather unlikely – or her phone was somehow out of range.
Out of range would be a very bad thing. The whole of Los Angeles was in range, as was most of the state of California, though he supposed some of the tunnels and underground caverns used as lairs might be beyond the range of his phone's signal. Cordelia shouldn't have been far enough out to sea to loose the signal, and she hadn't planned any air-travel.
Even if the phone itself had been destroyed, his call should have gone to voicemail, not just rang into emptiness. His mind started to ponder all the ways that they'd lost cell phones in the past. His firs one had been smashed by a demon before he'd joined Angel Investigations. Cordelia had lost one of the prepaid phones to the slime from a pair of demons. Angel had smashed one. He'd had one get destroyed when a demon had attacked him, shredding his coat, leaving several slashes over his ribs, and destroying the cell phone. Willow had fried one with a spell that had a few unexpected side effects. Cordelia had lost one when the vampire that had tried to grab it from her had been dusted. Angel's second phone had been eaten by a snake-demon, almost taking Angel's hand with it. Cordelia had lost another one when her purse had fallen as she was being kidnapped, shattering after it fell twelve stories to the ground.
It was rather disturbing to hope that she'd been attacked by a vampire, which was by far the simplest way they'd lost cell phones in the past.
The phone rang, and Wesley ran to the desk, ignoring the fact that his leg slammed into the counter as he grabbed the phone. "Hello?"
:Wes. What's going on over there? I've been trying to call all day: Gunn's voice came across clearly.
"I truly wish I could tell you, but I'm not quite sure myself. I only got back from my trip with Virginia a few minutes ago. Angel is either sleeping like the dead or elsewhere, with his cell phone in the office. Cordelia had a part in a television series, I believe it was the one with that Nesmith fellow, and I assume that Willow was going with her." Welsey paused, looking once more at the cup. "I think she may have received one of those last minute notices about a problem, but there's nobody here, and no notes."
:Damn. I've been trying to get you or your books. There was something, some sort of giant rock monster. Rocky smashed a few cars, terrified a lot of people, and was taking a walk down the street. Bullets just bounced, the thing didn't even seem to notice. Some jerk in a SUV crashed into it, the thing just shook the wreckage off like a kid that stepped in trash. I'm hoping someone can figure out what it is and if it's coming back.:
"The SUV was wrapped around the rock-creature's foot? That's disturbing, just how large was this thing?" Wesley murmured, rubbing at his now aching leg.
:I didn't see it myself, but it sounds like it was three or maybe four stories tall. Good news, it didn't sound like it was actively attacking, just that it was trying to go somewhere, and didn't worry about things like puny humans in the way.: Gunn sounded like he was frowning. :I saw the craters left where it walked, and it does not inspire happy thoughts.:
"I'll start looking through the books, but the only thing that it sounds like that I can think of would either be a stone giant, a magical construct, or a very large earth elemental. Giants have a measure of intelligence, constructs do what the mage creating them wishes, and earth elementals… Some are conjured and controlled, some are conjured and not securely controlled, and some show up when magic uses do something terribly wrong." Wesley sighed, and looked at his notes. Rock-giant. 3-4 stories, crater footprints. Return? "I don't suppose that you've heard from anyone else since Thursday?"
:No. If I do, I'll tell them to give you a call.: Gunn's words were faintly dismayed, as if he was trying not to let his disappointment show.
"Of course. I'll start the research. Be careful if you do see it returning, or if you see anything else particularly odd. If you see anything, it could be a clue to help identify the rock creature, so you need to let me know." Wesley closed his eyes, trying not to show his own dismay. Stone giants and earth elementals were both very difficult to even hurt, let alone destroy, and a mage that could create such a massive construct would be very powerful.
:Does that include what looked like a space shuttle in one of the parks? One of my crew saw something early this morning, he swears it was a space shuttle. Then, a while later, there was something that roared out of the ocean, and a little after that, the shuttle in the park was gone. Think that might be connected: Dismay had changed to curiosity and hope.
"Maybe. At the very least, it is certainly something unusual enough that it will probably end up coming our way sooner or later," Wesley opened his eyes, looking at Cordelia's abandoned script. She had a part on some sort of space-fantasy series, and there is something that looks like a space ship. "Gunn? If you can, see if there's anything unusual going on at the sets for the Galaxy Quest television series."
:Not that I'm arguing with your books, but why do you want us to look into a television show: Gunn's question was followed by the sound of something crashing, and the fainter sound of somebody else swearing.
"It's probably nothing, in fact, I hope it's a wild goose chase," Wesley paused, looking once more at the mug and then the script. "But the last thing we knew about Cordelia, she was on her way to work on her latest bit part. She's been cast as some sort of alien princess for the Galaxy Quest series, and we haven't heard from her since. Put that together with a space shuttle in the park…"
:Considering our luck, it's probably connected. I'll see what we can find: Gunn promised, and then hung up the phone.
Wesley put the phone down, and started towards the library. If that had really been a space shuttle, his books would probably be useless. If Cordelia's lack of communication was connected to her part… Her acting almost always led to trouble. If she'd been kidnapped again, they had no resources to try to rescue her from aliens.
End part 49.