September 2010
The U.S. Army cyborg was still falling, spraying electric sparks and water, as Carlo darted forward to where Keith lay on the floor. He hadn't moved from where he'd fallen. There was blood in his hair, and Carlo reached out desperately for his mind, cursing every wasted second in the minutes of searching corridors, the hours since Regina had somehow miraculously made contact — the nearly five days since headquarters had gone silent.
It was a wash of relief when Keith groaned and tensed in his hands, trying even in part to rise under his own power. He lifted his head, and Carlo found his blue eyes…
Keith's mind swept over his like a deluge, chaotic and irresistible. Words struggled to the surface amid formless confusion.
I know you. I should be able to think of your name. I should be able to remember… everyone's name…
Fragmented images from the last five days flooded in: the words "extermination sequence" flashing on a screen, the steel-paneled halls stretching on in an endless maze unbroken even by food or sleep, their floors strewn with bodies that poison gas had left cruelly pristine — as if they should wake up and start moving again, but they never did.
Their names…
Sonia… Brad… Those names rose up like icebergs, nearly crushing him.
Others danced through the air like snowflakes, so close at hand but melting in his grasp if he tried to remember. He should be able to remember…
Who should be able to remember?
What brought Carlo back to himself was the dull, distant boom of an explosion outside.
Regina!
She'd found the fuel tank on something, and when he reached out to her mind he found her flitting around through the ensuing chaos, dodging U.S. Army bullets.
Don't get carried away.
You always criticize, she replied, turning away with the facetious pout that always made him worry she wasn't taking things seriously.
Keith struggled weakly in his arms. He'd heard the explosion, too. "someone is… i have to…"
"No," Carlo declared. "You've done enough for now."
A glance confirmed that the cyborg was no longer a threat, and he hoisted Keith's arm over his shoulder and glided over the floor with him. Despite the gravity of the situation — no, because of it, because this moment had come at the bottom of the darkness when all seemed lost — his heart swelled with pride and awe.
The bodies on the floor he'd seen in those visions were gone now. Keith had spent the last five days burying everyone they'd lost himself.
That had always been the sense that drew people to him, that there was someone who cared about them — who cared about them as Psychiccers, didn't see their powers as a shameful secret or a plaything or a danger, but valued them for who they really were. If there had ever been any doubt that that care was genuine, there could be no doubt now. Keith's loss of his people had nearly destroyed him, and still he hadn't let himself rest until he'd done what he could for them.
What disgusting cowards the humans were to attack him now, when his altruism had left him in this condition! And even now they didn't dare face him; they'd sent a machine. That such a thing had been able even to touch Keith Evans was proof of how far he'd been willing to push himself.
And proof that he couldn't push himself any further — but he would still try. Carlo didn't dare leave him alone. Not alone and conscious.
He would just have to trust Regina to take care of herself for a little longer.
After all, Carlo thought, Keith had chosen him — had chosen the two of them. When Keith wasn't responding to anyone else, they had been the ones to reach him. There had to be a reason.
When they arrived at the infirmary, Keith squeezed his eyes shut and moaned as he began to struggle again. There was a reason for that, too, something particular that he was resisting, but Carlo didn't have time to sift the sleep-deprived chaos of his mind looking for what it was. Instead he found his way around the resistance and managed to maneuver Keith into a bed.
Trying to use a soporific drug would be risky; Carlo had heard enough to know that — everyone he'd ever spoken to at headquarters was gone, no time to think about it now — and without the quick and easy option, he could only try the best method he knew and trust in its efficiency.
It was what he used to do for Regina, to calm her down when they were younger, in the old days before she'd armored herself with those cynical faces that even he couldn't see behind.
Someday she wouldn't need them. Yes, all was not lost. They would rebuild. The work would continue, until someday…
But for what Carlo had to do now, he needed to focus on the present, put himself into a state of calm and equanimity.
He needed to be water.
He telepathically took Keith, held him and carried him as water might carry him, if he were floating down a peaceful stream. Trying this with someone whose mind was confused and agitated was nothing new, but Carlo had to push back that sense of awe to brave the sheer scale of it. Still, the pull of exhaustion had been building for days; it shouldn't take much of an additional push, shouldn't take long if he just created the scene the way he always had.
The gentle rocking and caress of the current… The cool, pure scent and softly laughing sound…
When she was younger, Regina used to wonder where the stream was carrying her, and he would imagine for her that it was a beautiful place of peace and freedom, and that they would get there, just as inevitably as water would find the sea.
Keith didn't wonder where the stream was going. On him, it wasn't working at all. Despite his exhaustion, he clung on stubbornly against the flow. Carlo finally had to shift his psychic stance to avoid the edge of impatience — and as he did, he caught the flicker of half-formed thought and saw what it was that Keith was clinging to.
It was the thought of a physical object right there in the infirmary with them — and it was the same thing he'd fought to resist when they arrived. Somehow he shied away from it even as he gripped it. He was afraid to let his eyes see it, but he couldn't let himself fall asleep without seeing it.
It was one of the life support pods.
Carlo looked. From that angle, he couldn't see who was inside, but the indicator lights were green. Whoever it was, they were alive. There was at least one other survivor.
Keith's telepathy suddenly enveloped him again, seeming to fill the entire room with a wintry sigh of relief as he relaxed, eased his desperate hold on consciousness…