The Court Martial – Chapter 7

Her toes curled in the familiar warmth of the sand, Farsha sat with her legs pressed against her chest, her arms across her knees and buried her face inside the hollow space it made. Though it caused her crying to echo in her ears, she hoped it muffled the sound from carrying to the nearby tents sheltered in the desert forest. Her feet hurt, the Blood Beetle bites itched, and in the morning, The Keeper and the others would expect her to lead them to the final armament for The Sadu and all she wanted was to not be an adult just now.

She knew the words of The Prophecy by heart. It was her favorite story. Many Rephaim thought it no more than a youngling's tale, but she had never doubted the truth of it. Suddenly to be a part of it, to witness the discoveries that Botis foretold, and to know the weight of locating the final item lay across her shoulders when she had neither the knowledge nor experiences to find it—she wanted to be sitting next to her Aima sipping sweetened goat's milk or curled on her Abba's lap as he smoked his evening pipe. Instead, she wrapped herself in her misery and cried.

Her head bolted up as the sound of wings passed over her head. She leapt to her feet, fear locking her in place as something large landed nearby. Her eyes darted into the darkness as a black shape drew near. She wanted to be brave, but the sobs started anew knowing she was nothing but a fool of a youngling who wandered into the desert and allowed herself to be eaten by sharp-tooth predator.

"Don't cry," a deep voice spoke as the figure stopped its approach. She could see the shape of its wings rise above its head.

"Would you kill me first before you eat me?" she squeaked.

"How 'bout I just come a little closer and we can talk a bit?" he offered as he stepped near enough that she could focus on his face.

"You are Anakim?" Farsha's surprise caused him to chuckle.

"Other than lost, I'm not sure what I am. I was searching for someone, and I saw the fire," he gestured toward their tents, "and when I came in to check it out, I heard you crying. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

He stood near enough that Farsha could see the ghostly pallor of his skin, shadowy rims circling his eyes that looked black in the moonlight. His feathers were as dark as his wavy hair. Despite blending into the shadows, she saw the tired droop of his wings, and he had raw, red scratches on his face and arms.

"It is you who does not look well," she observed causing a sad, guttural laugh.

"Well, I've had a rough few days. Is it okay if we sit? I promise not to bite." Before she could answer, he gingerly positioned himself cross-legged on the ground, his wings folded behind him. Farsha sat facing him, her palms pressed against the ground in the event she needed to rise and move away from him quickly. He leaned toward her as he continued. "So, what happened to make a nice young Rephaim sneak away from her tent to cry her heart out?" He unexpectantly reached out and wiped the tears off her face. His touch was tender but his fingers hot.

She felt her cheeks blush hot in return. "Someone needs me, and I am afraid I will fail."

"Well, aren't we just two peas in a pod. Umm, we are just alike." His white teeth flashed with a smile at the look on her face. "Ladies first," he gestured her way.

"Oh," she stammered for a moment. "I am supposed to help…a friend that I haven't met yet." Farsha hesitated to reveal the name of The Sadu from The Prophecies since The Keeper always admonished that the words were sacred and only to be shared when properly presented.

"Hmm," the Anakim tilted his head as he studied her. "You are a very special friend to want to help someone you haven't met yet."

"He is the friend of my friend. I am supposed to help but I don't know how."

"That's twice now you've said, 'supposed to.' What makes you think that?"

"Well," she moved her hands into her lap and began to pluck at her fingers, "my friends think I know of this place, but I only know the words. Not the place."

"I've been flying around the last couple of days doing recon, umm, my own lookin'. Tell me the words and maybe I can help."

She sighed deeply as she fell into the dark openness of his eyes. She wasn't afraid anymore. "The words say it is a place of light and dark, wet and dry, life and death filled with pale blue feathers that do not fly, bright yellow eyes that do not see, dancing on strands of green which tempt the nostrils with sweet scents but close the throat when chewed."

"Poisonous, huh?"

"It makes no sense! How am I supposed to find it!"

"Wait, wait, wait," he raised both palms toward her then brought one finger to tap against his lips. "I might know where it is. It's a riddle, right? Nobody can just come out and say what they mean. Somehow making you tie yourself up in knots to figure it out makes it better for someone."

"Not me," Farsha frowned.

"Me neither!" They both laughed. "In the morning, go that way," he pointed over her left shoulder to the northeast. You'll see these big rocks. Not even that far. A few clicks, I mean miles. Can't miss 'em. There's this little cut in the stone but inside is a bigger cave and I think you will find exactly what you're looking for. A miracle of nature."

Farsha crossed her arms petulantly. "Now you are telling riddles."

"True. But we don't wanna jinx anything. You know, if you are supposed to figure it out on your own." She nodded acceptance at that reasoning.

"It's your turn to…be the pea?" Farsha tried to remember the phrase. He laughed. She enjoyed the pleasing sound of that, and it seemed to bring color into the paleness of his cheeks.

"I need to find my friend. He's missing. I wish I had a riddle to help me. I know I need to find him, but I can't remember anything else. He's human, like me."

"But you are Anakim," Farsha gestured toward his wings.

"Not always," he said cryptically, shaking his head. "Things are kinda messed up in my head right now. Things are happening I don't know how to explain. It's like things are hidden from me. Things I had once but lost somehow."

"I am sorry that I cannot help you. We have not seen any of the Emim in our travels. But if we should see him, I can tell him that you are trying to find him."

"I do remember that I am hiding from the apes—not the Rephaim. You guys are cool. The red apes. And that means I need to be on my way, and you need to get back to your tent where it's safe."

Farsha scowled and leaned forward when she saw several dark shapes had fallen on the ground around him. "Your wings…are molting," she held one up, the quill and shaft black while the feathers were delicate shades of dark brown growing lighter as it rose toward the tip. "Can you fly?"

He shrugged noncommittedly. "When I can't fly anymore, I'll run." Suddenly he stiffened and awkwardly pushed himself to his feet, one hand resting on his thigh, the other arm crooked across his waist. A grimace prevented him from speaking as he drew several deep breaths. She stood next to him, resting her hand against him to provide support. Their eyes locked.

"Go," the word hissed out as a constricted growl as he pushed her toward the campsite. "They're coming."

Farsha gasped, bolting upright, her fisted hands gripped the furs that covered her. The blast of a hunting horn echoed in her head. She took several heaving breaths clearing her eyes of sleep. Grul watched her, sitting among his own blankets, his shaggy head surrounded by smoke moving in lazy swirls as he puffed on his long pipe.

"You were dreaming," the gruff voice stated.

"The Sadu. He has so little time." Her heart clenched. "I know where to go. We must hurry."

"We will leave at first light."

xXxXx

The gavel sounded promptly at 0800 with Command Chief Master Sergeant Williams calling the hearing to order. Virdon glanced behind him seeing no sign of Schwartz while his lips twitched toward a grin that Mauser had traded his routine camouflage fatigues for his own dress uniform to provide testimony. He took a reassuring breath satisfied that his gamble was working—the androids were taking him seriously.

"Colonel Virdon, is the defense ready to proceed?"

"I recognize the presence of one of two of the witnesses I will call. I would like the status of the second," Virdon stood as he addressed the bench.

"Chief Schwartz will be cleared to join the hearing at…," Williams seemed to blink out for a moment, a pattern Alan had determined indicated the android was accessing the base central computer. He absently rubbed at his right forearm remembering the unnerving audio sounding in his ears and information appearing in his eyes when the communications control device was affixed to his arm. "…approximately 11:30," Williams returned.

"I have keyed up recoded video from the logs pulled from surveillance and unit observations which I submit into evidence." Virdon laid his hand over the thin, black device positioned in front of him on the table. One of the airmen had made the connections allowing the device to play on the projector before he arrived.

"Trial Counsel accepts," Kelley intoned from Virdon's right.

"You may proceed Colonel."

"I call Airman Mauser to the stand. I will be referring to his detection skills as an expert witness," Virdon stated.

"The Court accepts Airman Mauser's unit file into evidence."

"Accepted," Kelley stated. Given the dryness of his tone, Alan couldn't help but think that the trial counsel would be drifting off to sleep if he wasn't a robot. With any luck, I'll be stirring your circuits in a moment, he thought.

After a series of questions that established the nature of the airman's involvement in the interrogation of Major Burke and Ezekial, Virdon announced. "Mauser, I will be playing the video taken from your unit files."

"Trial Counsel accepts the files. We waive the need to present the display before the court," Kelley half-stood then dropped back to his seat.

"Defense demands that the panel reviews the evidence in conjunction with testimony," Virdon stared hard at the brown-headed sergeant then focused on Chief Williams at the bench.

"Proceed Colonel; however, the bench may intervene should the replay fail to establish new information," Williams ruled.

"I'll do my best not to bore you with reruns," Alan muttered.

"Colonel, you may face contempt charges for making a mockery of this hearing," the Chief warned as a few of the others whispered among themselves.

"We certainly wouldn't want to do that. Defense counsel withdraws the last statement." Alan turned his back on the bench as he punched at the black box and a moving image appeared in the center of the room.

The tape opened in the hallway as Alan opened the door to the interrogation room looking Schwartz in the eye. "They're all yours, Chief. Do what you need to do." The Chief nodded and entered as two hands, Mauser's, rolled a cart of equipment into the room. It scanned Burke staring at the door, a look of confused shock on his face as Virdon exited then moved to the hybrid called Zeke slumped in chains, his eyes squeezed almost shut, his breaths shallow as he bent over his broken right arm.

"Hey!" Burke's eyes followed Schwartz as he paused at the cart, arranging the items. The view moved between Zeke and Burke as the major spoke, "I don't know what Virdon told you that he thinks we know, but he's wrong. There is no secret agenda, no plot to steal whatever the hell you have hidden here."

"Then why did you come here, Major?" Schwartz asked quietly after a long pause.

"To chase Virdon's pipedream of going home," he answered bitterly. "We were hoping for a ship, or at least information about where we could find one. Unless you happen to have a time machine laying around that we could borrow," he finished with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Pause." The recording stopped with Pete strapped in the heavy, metal chair, a sneer on his lip. "Mauser, what was you interpretation of Major Burke's statement?" Virdon asked.

"He was truthful."

"Defense will now show a sequence of Airman Mauser's direct observations before resuming testimony." Virdon fingered the box controls allowing the film to play.

The first showed the initial interaction between Zeke and Schwartz. The angel was speaking.

"We didn't know what was here. We wanted to make sure this place is not a threat to us." The angel raised his head with an effort. "We only desire a peaceful coexistence with all our neighbors."

"Peaceful?" Schwartz snorted. He strode over toward Zeke and crouched down in front of him. "Your kind has a strange definition of 'peaceful'."

"What do you want from me?" Zeke ground out. He jerked his chin toward the cart. "No matter what you do to me, it's not going to change the truth."

"Oh, we aren't going to do anything to you, hybrid," Schwartz's explained as the blood drain from Zeke's face. "But I can tell from your expression that you'd do anything to protect your—"

The film stopped, clicked, and the next clip appeared.

Schwartz took a capsule from the cart and placed it in the airman's hand. "Mauser, wake up the abomination."

"Yes, Chief." Mauser waved the capsule under Zeke's nose, rousing him to full consciousness as he choked and gasped against the noxious fumes.

Mauser watched Schwartz pick up a pair of cuffs with long wires trailing back to a machine. He fastened them around each of Burke's wrists as the major jerked futilely against his restraints, then turned his gaze on Zeke. "What is the real reason for coming here? How much do you know about the material stored here?" Mauser's eyes locked onto the angel's face looking for signs of deception.

"I don't know anything!" Zeke shouted, his voice hitching with a sob.

"Well, that's too bad. Maybe you better think harder." Schwartz flipped a switch on the machine, and Burke jerked in his seat. The muscles in his neck and arms corded with tension as the electricity coursed through him. His head snapped back against the headrest. The scream that ripped from his throat was unholy, an animalistic howl. Tears formed in Zeke's eyes as he pulled uselessly at his chains leaning helplessly toward Burke. Nine seconds passed before Schwartz turned the switch off. Burke slumped forward, his breathing labored and harsh. He coughed twice as he drew in a ragged breath. "Fuck you," he gasped.

"I don't know anything," sounded almost inaudibly from the angel.

"All due respect, Chief," Mauser's voice was heard speaking quietly to Schwartz as he continued to focus on Zeke's face, "but I think he's telling the truth."

"I'm not convinced," Schwartz countered, "that your abilities will work the same way on the hybrids, Airman. We don't know all the alterations that were made to their physiology."

"Yes, Sir," Mauser answered.

"Pause." The picture showed Schwartz standing next to Burke, the major's head falling toward his chest.

"Mauser, your unit was damaged in an encounter with the Albans after this interrogation segment concluded. How did this record of your observations survive intact?" Virdon stopped in front of the witness stand forcing Mauser to make eye contact with him.

"I completed a self-initiated download after the conclusion of this session."

"Why?"

"I wanted to review the data more closely and needed it preserved immediately."

"Why?"

"I questioned my conclusions."

"Explain."

"My initial observations supported that the hybrid was being truthful. He had an emotional incentive to protect Major Burke and was clearly distressed at the major's circumstances."

"By circumstances, you mean the method of his torture."

"Objection," Kelley intoned behind them.

Virdon raised his hand before Williams could reply. "The method of his interrogation."

"Yes. It was my initial belief that his claim regarding lack of knowledge or incentive to access The Pile was a truthful statement."

"And what made you question that conclusion?"

"As recorded, Chief Schwartz stated that the hybrids might be altered in such a way to hide their truthfulness."

"Play," Virdon stated. He turned back to view the tape, his arms across his chest.

"Where is the rest of your group hiding, Major?" Schwartz asked, turning back to the man slumped in the chair.

"Long gone out of here."

"I see." Schwartz looked at Zeke. "Where are your people, hybrid?"

Zeke raised his chin defiantly, rattled the chains with a movement of his wings, set his face to a resistant mask and said nothing. Schwartz had a slight grin as he shocked Burke again. The hybrid's face crumbled, and his screams mingled with Burke's, echoing off the walls as he fought to rise and rush to Burke's aid. "We didn't know anything! We didn't know what was here! We didn't know you were here! Stop! STOP! SSSSTTTTTTOP!" As Mauser's view moved, he saw Burke wracked with indescribable pain, and abject fear on Zeke's face.

Thirteen seconds. Burke's horrendous howls stopped after thirteen seconds. Zeke's face was red, wet, and folded into grief. He had pushed up at the chains trying to reach the major and fell, broken, to his knees. As Mauser's head turned, he could see Burke, lolling in the chair, held in place only by the straps that gripped him.

"You mother fuckers… belong in a… scrap yard," the major managed to spit through a clenched jaw although he never raised his eyes.

"Is that what you were hoping for, hybrid? An unprotected source of weapons of mass destruction. A new supply to further your ambitions to dominate the country," Schwartz eyed the angel.

"What country?" Zeke wouldn't take his attention away from Burke. "We have been alone for centuries. We know of the apes and what remains of the human race they have subjugated in the territories in the west, but they can't match our technology. They don't even know we exist. We have no fight with them!"

"Then access to The Pile would secure your position. You could take over, couldn't you? Rule the whole damn world, isn't that right?" Mauser recorded Schwartz's words as he studied the desperation of the angel, his entire body tight, his eyes pleading for a response from the figure in the chair.

"Zeke… don't waste your breath… on them," Burke murmured. The hybrid slumped in relief as soon as he heard the man speak.

"What is 'The Pile'? That means nothing to me," Zeke shook his head weakly.

"Maybe this means something to you," the Chief flipped the switch causing Burke to fling back, the top of his head plastered against the headrest, his mouth fully open into a curdling scream that faded into chilling silence despite the continued rictus of his body. Zeke thrashed in a state of complete anguish, his cries rising in impotent rage, the chains tearing at his wings. Schwartz left the circuit on as he reached back and yanked a handful of feathers from the angel's wing. He held the bloody tipped quills in front of Zeke's eyes then slowly opened his hand allowing them to float to the ground.

"Does he really mean so little to you, hybrid?" He leaned his mouth into Zeke's ear as the unnatural silence from the chair seemed to swell despite the continued hum of the open circuit from the machine. "Your pain is nothing compared to his." Schwartz casually turned, held his hand over the switch taunting the angel, then shut off the current as the major lurched forward.

A bare whisper repeating the same words reached Mauser's ears. "Burke, Peter J.—Rank Major—Number 0047366897—Burke, Peter J.—Rank Major—Number 0047366897—Burke, Peter J.—Rank Major—Number 0047366897—…"

Zeke crumpled, chest heaving. "No one knew what was here. We came to explore…not exploit…. Our ancestors survived the destruction caused by the last war. We only want peace. Please leave him alone," the angel's voice trailed off into sobs as he hunched dejectedly, his red-rimmed eyes locked on Burke.

The major's voice faded and then stopped altogether causing Zeke to weep openly. "Please stop hurting him." Schwartz lifted Burke's head by his dark hair and looked derisively at Zeke. The Chief leaned in and examined Burke. "I guess you get your wish, hybrid. For now. We'll start again when he wakes up. Maybe then you can stop your pretending and remember what it is you don't know." He released Burke, his head dropping listlessly to one side.

"I don't sense untruth, sir," Mauser spoke.

"That's because we haven't dug in deep enough," Schwartz countered.

"Pause." Alan heard the husky tone of his voice and took a moment before attempting to continue. The picture froze with Schwartz staring at Pete's face, bruise marks on the right side where the rifle butt struck him when the androids overpowered him. His mouth partially open. His skin ghostly pale. Dark circles ringed his eyes. Alan blinked slowly as the picture seared into his mind followed by several quick blinks to clear his head. He drew in even breaths, his face passive. Mauser's interpretation of his reaction be damned. He had watched this scene play out dozens of times to steel himself for this moment, but knowing Pete's past traumas, the desperate whispered words of Burke's final resistance before slipping into unconsciousness would gnaw an open wound of guilt in his gut for the rest of his life.

Virdon knew about the android's intentions to interrogate Pete and Zeke. As protectors of the base, they had a duty to verify Alba's intentions—didn't they? Once the away team got back to Alba, Alan found out what those interrogation techniques included—neurogenic shocks on Pete to force Zeke to reveal Alba's plans regarding The Pile. Shocks that nearly killed him when it destroyed the nanites in his system—the nanites the Albans used to save his life when he was spiked by rebar and bled to death before his eyes. He didn't know—did he?—what methods of interrogation the androids were using at the time. And even after he learned shocks were used, he never imagined the level of pain inflicted, thinking it was Burke's bodily response to the destruction of the nanites that put him in jeopardy. He may not have known but he did remember his own words spoken with authority. They're all yours, Chief. Do what you need to do. Alan opened his eyes slowly. I ordered this.

And now he's gone?

Alan cleared his throat aware of the android eyes surrounding him, recording his every move. "Airman Mauser, what about Zeke's reaction during this interrogation suggested to Chief Schwartz that he was 'pretending?'"

"You would have to ask the Chief."

"His suggestion was enough to cause you to download the images to review."

"I wanted to see what I missed. What the Chief saw that made him think the hybrid was hiding the truth."

"And as you studied the recordings and we have now watched together, have you seen it? Something that would suggest Zeke was lying?"

"No."

"Is it your impression that Zeke was withholding information that could have prevented the on-going torture," Virdon purposefully made eye contact with several of the representatives on the judgment panel, "…excuse me, interrogation…of Major Burke?"

"No."

"Is it your testimony that you believe Zeke when he stated that his group had come to explore the base? That they wanted peace with their neighbors?"

"I see no indication that he was being untruthful."

"I have no further questions," Virdon returned to his seat and clicked off the picture from the black box.

Kelley spung from his chair to stand in front of Mauser. "Airman, based on your observations, do you believe the enemy force…."

"Objection – inflammatory," Virdon interrupted, "The Trial Counsel has not proved that the Alban contingent came as an enemy force."

"Intruders then. You cannot deny that you forced your way in," Kelley spoke directly to the colonel before returning his attention to the witness. "Do you believe the intruders would have taken valuable information from the base if given the opportunity?"

"It was clear even from Major Burke's statement that they were seeking information, so yes, I believe they would have taken any information with particular interest regarding the development of the FTL drive that they discovered had our forces not intervened."

"No further questions," Kelley pronounced. Virdon rose to his feet but stayed behind the desk.

"Let us return to Major Burke's statement. We can see it for ourselves," Alan manipulated the control before hitting a button. The recording flared in the center of the room.

"To chase Virdon's pipedream of going home. We were hoping for a ship, or at least information about where we could find one. Unless you happen to have a time machine laying around that we could borrow."

"Does this statement made by Major Burke suggest that the group was seeking war plans?"

"No."

"Communications or cryptographic intelligence?"

"No."

"Major defense systems or strategies?"

"No."

"Any offensive weapons, nuclear or otherwise?"

"No."

"In fact, from the visual records submitted by the Trial Counsel, when the group left the base, did they take a single weapon that they did not enter with?"

Mauser paused, then blinked before responding, "No."

"That is all for this witness."

Virdon allowed himself a smug grin at Sergeant Kelley's pensive glance his way as Chief Williams stated, "Airman Mauser, you may step down.

xXxXx

Frowning when the lab door did not slide open at her touch, Miriam rapped on the metal surface demanding, "Raziel, open up!" Her scowl deepened at the sounds of casual movement on the other side before the dark-haired angel stood in front of her in the doorway.

"Ahhh, good. You have finally arrived." Raziel turned back to his workstation without further greeting. He tapped at a display board, keeping his back toward her.

Miriam bit back the many things she wanted to shout at his arrogantly shifting wings, pushed her disheveled hair out of her face, and spoke as coolly as she could manage, "Your message said 'stat.'"

"I have discovered another devilishly beautiful aspect in the genetic design of this fascinating creature and as I am under orders to obtain your permission before testing my findings, I had no choice but to disturb your sleep. We can walk and talk." The angel flipped and brushed by her to go out the door, turning toward the patient rooms.

"You cannot cause another Initiation or Assault phase in Burke's system." Miriam had to follow at a fast walk to catch up and maintain Raziel's pace. "His fever has reached 105° and his 02 sats are fluctuating in the mid to low 80's."

"I want to run a full neuro scan while asking targeted questions—similar to what an interrogator would have done in seeking information while using the EKL. Once I have your permission to proceed, you can go back to bed if you like," Raziel shrugged nonchalantly. Miriam quietly sucked in a calming breath to keep her fingers out of a fist.

"What specifically did you discover in the genetic make-up that prompted this request? And will it allow us to extricate or exterminate the EKL?"

"Second question first: everything we learn brings us closer to that goal; however, what I suspect will not directly aid in that endeavor. As for the first, it is quite genius. The creators of this little beauty designed an intricate, intertwined system within this organism permitting it to establish absolute control of the host. Quite ingenious."

"Raziel, the point," Miriam demanded as they moved into the active open treatment area and headed toward the door to Pete's treatment suite marked with bright yellow and black warning signs.

"The chemical excretions are quite subtle. I doubt I would have detected it in the time allowed had we used only traditional methods. My ability to trace the connections allowed me to suspect what they were up to, and further analysis confirmed it. Now we need to test it." Miriam gave him a hard look before he continued. "The EKL uses narcoanalytics to reduce resistance and encourage revelation of information. Hidden within this process are subroutines acting as a mind agent to mask specific data the brain receives preventing it from processing into memory. I suspect it may even remove previous knowledge related to that data—much like doing a data search and erasing all references to those key words on a hard drive."

Raziel punched in the key code allowing them entry into the small, exterior visitor waiting room of Pete's quarantined room. Miriam grabbed a large, zippered bag from a bin next to the door and handed it to Raziel then took one of her own. They opened them and removed the haz-mat suits and began to dress. Miriam glanced at the monitor showing the room. Leah was rubbing Pete's bare chest with a clear coolant gel to help bring his body temperature down.

"You are suggesting that this process has preset data that it will block from the host?"

"Possibly. And high probability that the interrogator can add or remove what they want the host to recall. It is beautiful," Raziel tucked his wings inside his suit then sealed the fasteners. "When the subject is released, they will have no recall of where they were held or the experience of the interrogation. New ideas and beliefs can be suggested making ideal double agents."

"Beautiful is not the word I would have chosen. Diabolical comes to mind," Miriam's scowl was back. She tugged on black boots over her footwear from her position in a waiting room chair then secured the mask over her face. She and Raziel entered the sealed treatment room together.

Once Leah completed her fever reduction application and excused herself from the room with a brief smile directed toward the patient, Raziel took a little less than a quarter hour to connect the probes along Burke's skull while Miriam initialized the controls on the bedside monitors. Although Pete's face twisted and slight moans accompanied the placement of the leads, he seemed to soothe when Miriam laid her hand on his shoulder and explained what they were doing.

"Let us begin," Raziel announced as he pulled off his gloves and rested his hands on Pete's abdomen. Miriam noticed a flash of a frown on the angel's face but continued her work without interrupting him.

"Running baseline," she said, tapping the keys quickly. "Complete."

"Peter," Raziel spoke but kept his eyes on the observation monitor allowing him to see the EKL activity. "Listen to my voice and only my voice.

"Alba." He glanced at Miriam for the patient's reaction after speaking the word.

"Normal functioning."

"Alan Virdon."

"Anxiety rising."

"Urko."

"Dial it back, Raziel. High stress."

"Galen."

"Calming."

"Ezekial. Zeke."

Miriam grinned. "Happy, but like most future spouses, nervous."

"Are memory indicators active?" the angel asked as he closed his eyes and entered his exploratory examination through his innate gift.

"Yes."

"Kirtland."

"Signs of anxiety…no…wait…it's gone," Miriam tapped at the keys and did a quick double check of the results. "Do it again."

"Kirtland."

"Flashed and was gone. Faster this time. It's like it isn't there."

"Peter, what do you remember about Kirtland?"

"Nothing. No indication of memories elicited."

The angel nodded. "Where are you, Peter?"

"Whoa," the blonde healer exclaimed. "The bilateral hippocampus is lighting up."

"Yes," Raziel agreed. He lowered his head in concentration. "He was resistant to them. They did not know how to fully attack his DNA. And with no interrogator to guide him, or tell him what they want him to believe, he is making it up. Imagining a place to escape them.

"Peter. You are in the Medical Center in Alba. You are being…."

"Raziel, stop!" Miriam raised her voice. "Anxiety levels are rising rapidly. If he has imagined someplace where he feels safe, maybe we need to leave him alone." The angel paused; his features compressed as he studied the impressions he was receiving.

Raziel resumed speaking, "Peter. You are not alone. We are helping you. We will call for you when it is safe to return. You may now hear anyone who speaks to you." The angel glanced up at Miriam who responded with an agreeable nod. Raziel removed his hands with a long exhale. "Miriam, will you forward the results of the readings to me? I would like to study the findings in more detail although I do need to close my eyes for a moment. Connecting as I do can be exhausting."

The two proceeded to disconnect the probes and replaced the quarantine cover over the bed. Miriam adjusted Pete's IV and oxygen perfusion before they exited the room together. Their hazmat suits were placed in a sealed, red container to be recycled.

The exterior door slid open allowing Zeke to leap toward them. He had been pacing like a cornered desert cat next to the locked door leaving a thin trail of sand in his wake. "What is happening?! What is wrong?! I saw you both in Pete's room through the monitor, but I couldn't see what you were doing. Is Pete alright?" Zeke looked through the open waiting room door toward the sealed room.

Miriam touched his forearm as a sense of panic struck her. She had to remind herself the empathic angel was spilling his own emotional stress into the area influencing everyone around him. "Raziel discovered some new information…."

"Ezekial, I prefer to verify the findings before we discuss it. We want to be as accurate as possible," Raziel interrupted Miriam to the taller angel's look of consternation. "It is just as well that you are here. Based on my study to this point, the active EKL attached to the host will not leave voluntarily. We need to keep the extricated dormant samples under quarantine to avoid exposure; however, we can safely remove the patient's quarantine for designated visitors only. With permission from our Acting Lead Healer, of course."

Zeke's eyes widened and as soon as the words 'remove quarantine' were spoken, he shoved through the healers blocking the doorway. He tapped anxiously at the treatment room door and flipped back demanding, "Someone open this thing."

"Are you sure, Raziel?" Miriam asked quietly.

He shrugged. "It is low risk." Miriam gestured to Leah who hovered nearby. She rushed to the door to enter the key code and followed Zeke in as he began tugging at the quarantine shield. She quickly opened the covering allowing Zeke to bend over Pete for a lengthy hug.

Raziel kept his voice pitched low as both healers turned to observe. "Miriam, although I may not always express myself in ways that are clear, I am not insensitive to the situation. Ezekiel needs to be with him, and Peter needs to sense that Ezekial is nearby. During this encounter, I was able to observe that the EKL are adapting and more successfully navigating Peter's system. Unless I can divine a cure in the next twelve to fifteen hours, we will lose this patient."

xXxXx

"The Wise Ones," Misha stated knowingly. "We can greet them while the sun still rises," his chin lifted toward the colorful eastern skyline where the bright orb only hinted at its arrival. Farsha had them up before dawn, bags packed, skins filled with the rich water substitute provided by tapping the trunks of the desert forest, and a container filled with the healing sap for their injuries. She paced back and forth in the direction the Anakim of her dream had pointed, going farther and farther from the camp each time.

"I feel much better today," Galen grinned, "but I may still slow the pace. Perhaps Farsha and I can begin, and you catch up once the camp is cleared?"

"Go left of the sun," the Hunter pointed. "The Wise Ones will meet you."

The young gorilla took Galen's hand and pulled him along as soon as Misha approved. The sun was fully above the horizon when Grul and Misha joined them and Farsha then left The Shulmanu with The Keeper to race with The Hunter toward the distant stones that were now visible on the skyline. Her breaths were short and her heart fast as they reached the foot of the large rock formation. Misha snagged her arm as she took a step to begin her climb up the slope. They stood in the shade provided by the rocks welcoming the cooler temperature.

"Always give respect to the spirits, youngling," Misha explained quietly before raising his voice. "We, the Rephaim, greet The Wise Ones. Today we come in great need. Today we come as called by the messenger of The Wise Ones. Today we come to seek the gifts promised to The Sadu."

The large gorilla waited, his grip tight on Farsha's arm. Her eyes darted along the rocks looking for the "small cut" her Anakim had described. She felt her throat tighten and tears coming as she wondered if she could find a small thing in such a large place when they had so little time. She blinked away the tears, determined to be strong and looked upon The Wise Ones to guide her. The closest bent its head toward them as if studying her as closely as she studied him. The second rose tall, keeping a protective eye all around them. She drew a quick gasp, then smiled as she settled on the third who leaned forward to attend to the needs of any who came upon this place.

"I know where to go," she said aloud. Misha released her and she scrambled up the incline and scurried in the direction of the far pillar. The adult gorilla followed at a slower pace, allowing The Innocent to complete her task. Farsha climbed through slopes of odd directions, up, down, sideways; some areas wide and others so narrow she had to side-step to make it through. Her quick eyes caught sight of a brown snake slithering into a tiny crevasse, a trail of insects removing the fallen remains of a small creature she could not identify, and the shadow of a great hunting bird passing over her. She spoke a Rephaim saying used for both greeting and departure to the first two Wise Ones as she climbed through their domains.

She stopped as she slid down a steep slope into a rounded basin. She tilted her head all the way back to see the shortest of the Wise Ones, short only because she stooped over as if her arms wrapped around another. Her body stretched out horizontally to the ground forming a shaded shelter. Farsha wasn't sure why she thought the spirit was female other than most males she knew were hunters and warriors and spoke loudly. Tender concern was not an impression they gave her. She spun in place as a chuckle sounded in her ear but then realized it was likely an odd echo from the wind.

"May you walk in Paradise, if not today when the sun comes again," she presented her greeting with a bow, then added, "and please show me where to find your 'miracle of nature'." The hint of laughter sounded again encouraging Farsha to move toward the overhang. Even moving slowly, she almost walked past the opening which first appeared as no more than a deeper shadow near the bend in the stone. She squatted and then took to her knees before she could determine that the crawlspace was almost as long as her before it opened into a larger space. Taking a deep breath to still her heart, she removed her backpack, lay on her belly, and wiggled through dragging the pack beside her. The rough surface of the rock scraped at her back as she squiggled using her elbows and knees to push her way forward.

As she reached the inside, her breath turned into a gasp at the place of wonder hidden within. The inner wall went upward as the ledge continued outward for another foot. Leaving her pack on the ledge, she pulled herself inside. Remembering the teaching of her elders, she examined this space with all her senses.

She closed her eyes, extended her arms at her sides at waist level, palms open, allowing touch to understand. Although she stood inside a great stone formation, the ground was soft. At her back, the air was dry as it flowed in from the desert. Her face and hands felt cooler, moist. Something wet fell on her right forearm. Pressure pushed down from above. Farsha parted her lips and opened her jaw to welcome taste. She drew in deep breaths pulling air onto her tongue. The bitter taste of cactus rinds followed by a hint of sweet fruit came first but hidden beneath was a coppery wash like raw meat. Smells entered her awareness next. Loam rose from her feet. She stirred causing it to grow stronger. An array of smells included soil enriched by active growth. Sweet again. But sour, too. Clean. Yet also the musk of dander. Again, beneath, a suggestion of carrion. Sounds pulled her head to the right. The soft, irregular patter of droplets. Nervous rustles from in front of her. Her own breath began to quicken.

Farsha lifted her eyelids slowly. She stared at her feet in the dark sand that covered the floor. A pool of light joined her from the outside that diffused into the room filling it with shadow. Her eyes rising, she saw the ceiling directly at her head was easily within her reach although it slanted upwards to where not even the tall Anakim of her dream could have touched it. The room went deep into the stone, jagged walls roughly forming a circular space. Tiny fissures cracked the far wall. The susurrous sounds of skittish chitters echoed from those trails. To her right, the stone ledge jutted out from the hole where she had entered and continued in a slightly downward slope reaching out almost three feet along the wall forming a basin as it rounded toward the curving rock onto the far wall. Where Farsha stood was dry, growing warmer. Deeper into the darkness, the ledge, wall, and ceiling were damp, droplets falling leisurely into the basin filled with water.

The wonder of this place spread from the sides of the basin ledge and covered most of the ground. Thin green vines, prickled with thorns, grew in a profusion of color. Wispy petals of blue surrounding a bright yellow center bloomed along the vines. Even in the dim light, the golden color sparked like a flame in the night. Farsha took three tentative steps to the edge of the growth. She tilted her head toward the wall where the sounds had grown still but a watchful presence remained. She bent her knees, resting her weight over feet. Something white glinted between the fronds. She pushed it aside to reveal tiny rib bones and a single leg partially buried in the soil that supported the vines. She glanced back to the far wall where the silence settled. She tenderly brushed the soil to cover the remains and mouthed the mourner's prayer, "Sleep gently for the new dawn awaits."

Farsha allowed a smile as the promise of The Prophecies and the words of her Anakim filled her. She went back to the ledge and pulled a lined pouch, a small cutting tool, and a piece of cleaned goat skin from her backpack. She laid the skin along the damp ledge to moisten it then knelt by the vines. Using caution to avoid the thorns, she cut three pieces filled with the delicate flowers and lay them on the damp side of the fabric and rolled it closed. Within the soil, she spied movement; tiny creatures as thin as a strand of her fur and as long as her smallest finger squirmed. She suspected the animals nesting in the wall consumed these worms which kept the soil vibrant. The plants fed off both the spore and remains of the life that blossomed here. She stepped gingerly among the vines to reach the basin and dipped the pouch beneath its surface. The water was cold.

A brightening glow pulled her attention back to the western-facing opening. The sun was rising although it would be hours before its rays would fully light and warm this space. And as the life-giving orb left the sky to continue its endless journey, the chill of the night would descend into the heated cave causing the Tears of the Earth to form as she bade the sun, her son, good-bye. The Rephaim set up small, west facing special yurts with the rolled-out intestines and stomachs of their prey lined inside. The sun would heat the air so that as the night cooled, the Tears of the Earth would drip from the moisture resistant lining filling their water containers. Until she saw this place, she never realized the miracle of the gift given to the Rephaim by the weeping Earth.

Farsha turned to stare into the cavern before she lowered her head. "This Rephaim gives thanks to the Wise Ones who heard our pleas and filled our need." The young gorilla flipped on her axis back to the basin when a touch brushed her shoulder. Hidden in the far corner, lost in the shadows, a dark feather fluttered as the air current of her hurried turn moved in the otherwise still room. Despite her fleeting thought of her Anakim, she knew this belonged to one of the great hunting birds, but the message remained. Tears came to her eyes as she picked up the long feather, the beautiful brown and blacks blending along the pale shaft into a solid black tip. A chill settled around Farsha. The Sadu was failing. They were miles away, but his need was urgent. A cooing sound comforted her and a touch to her cheek caused her to jerk back to the cavern.

"Please tell him, he is not alone in his battle," she said aloud, her young voice firm. "We will join him as he fights the Eternal Beast."

As Farsha crawled back onto the ledge and pulled herself toward the light, the familiar voice of The Keeper intoned through the rock.

As night falls, the Chosen seek rest, but they remain vigilant. The Rephaim despair for The Sadu knowing the monsters of the Eternal Beast grow in number and force while The Sadu falters against the expanding horde. The Innocent cries out; the spirits hear the tears and send one who shall point the way. When the sun rises again, The Chosen must travel farther into the desert, away from their home, for The Watchers call The Innocent to a place of light and dark, wet and dry, life and death, filled with pale blue feathers that do not fly, bright yellow eyes that do not see, dancing on strands of green which tempt the nostrils with sweet scents but close the throat when chewed. Into this place The Innocent must go where no other can go and shall emerge with the subsistence of The Sadu which any other will consume to their doom. The hand of The Innocent alone shall provide The Sustenance of Life to fill him. The gift from the stone that harbors life, The Watchers wait as eternal as The Beast.