Dear Reader, A couple notes. The oasis is modeled after the Botanical Gardens along the Nile in Egypt (one of my favorite places). However, the clones' quarters are a direct reference to the Ceiba Tops rain forest "resort" on the Peruvian Amazon. Even the name is a parallel. Not that I expect anyone to check them out, but if you want to see what I am trying to describe, they can both be found on the net. Peace, CS
Chapter 12 The Shade Trees
"I am just a stranger in a promised land.
I am only learning a game with rules I don't understand.
Going round in circles, I've been round before.
I am lost in so many ways, I can walk no more."
Light of the World
Alan Parsons
Rex didn't remember the moment he'd lost consciousness. He only vaguely remembered the healer explaining the surgery to him, assuring him that everything would turn out well, and remarking conversationally about Rex's abundance of scars from previous injuries. Such was the life of a clone – or at least, a clone like Rex.
Then he had awoken to find himself lying in what might have been the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept in. It felt so good, he was tempted to not open his eyes, to just keep on resting, breathing in the fresh smell of clean sheets and indulging just the right degree of softness.
But the sound of someone moving beside the bed brought his eyes open, and he saw Cody about to sit down in a chair against the wall.
"Cody."
Cody gave the one-sided curl of his lip that sometimes qualified as a smile and stepped up next to the bed. "It looks like I have perfect timing."
Rex's expression was just short of laughter. "What are you wearing?"
"Oh, this . . . just something until they have my armor ready to go," the commander replied, looking down at the combination of trousers and knee-length, long-sleeved tunic that the brothers had provided him. The material was light and airy, very comfortable and protective against the heat. He didn't have quite the same admiration for the footwear, which were a type of sandal with a single broad strap over the top of the foot. He had trouble keeping them on, and they left most of the foot exposed and accessible to the dirt and sand.
"Your armor?"
Cody could see the cloudiness in Rex's eyes and hear the imprecision in his voice. Whether it was the anesthesia still wearing off or pain medication kicking in, it was clear the captain was still hovering in the twilight.
"Yeah, they're cleaning all our armor, and the body gloves." Cody smiled guiltily. "I wouldn't want that job."
"Did you contact the general?"
"You really are out of it," Cody mused silently. "No, not yet." He changed the subject. "How do you feel?"
"Enh . . . good. I feel okay. I'm hungry. Can I get something to eat?"
"I'll check with the sisters on duty," Cody replied.
Rex closed his eyes and appeared to be drifting off, but he then asked, "What about Kix?"
"He's still in surgery. It's only been a couple hours," Cody replied. "You were in and out very quickly. The healers are incredible. We got lucky, I'll say that much." A pause. "Echo's in the room next to you. Puzzle is still having his leg set. Little Ride is in the room on the other side of Echo's, and they just want to keep him for a few days, keep an eye on him. Gernot is in the room on the opposite side, so you're all close together."
He waited to see if Rex would say anything else, but he didn't.
"Au-Ogusta is getting ready to show us where we'll be staying, and then he's taking me to look at the speeders, so I'm stepping out and I'll be back to let you know what I find," Cody announced.
Rex murmured some sort of acknowledgment.
Cody turned to leave just as the healer overseeing Rex's care entered with two sisters.
"He was just awake," Cody informed him.
"Yes, the monitor showed us," the man smiled. "He is going to be a fast healer."
Cody simpered knowingly. "That's good, because he's a very rotten patient."
"Ohh, now that's stylish," Hardcase said, drawing his words out in a teasing fashion.
"Well, I look better in it than you do," Pitch replied.
"You both look ridiculous," Jesse said, as if settling a dispute. "I, on the other hand, can carry off just about anything."
They were, of course, referring to the clothing the Austeniens had provided; but the playful mockery of their appearance was a weak attempt to take their minds off more frightening subjects – and all three of them knew it.
Two hours had passed since Kix had been taken into surgery. Very early on, a healer had come out to ask for blood. He'd explained that they could synthesize any blood type, but it took time; and time was not on their side in this situation. With so many perfect matches right there and readily available, it would be faster and easier to simply draw blood.
Since then, the same healer had come out once more and announced that there were complications of infection and a great amount of contamination in both entry and exit wounds, so it would take more time than they'd originally anticipated.
All of which had left Jesse, Hardcase and Pitch restless and anxious. So when Commander Cody returned from his visit to Rex and announced that they would all be going with Au-Ogusta to their accommodations, little wonder it was that none of Kix's squad mates had any desire or intention of leaving.
Cody was understanding but firm. "There's nothing you can do by staying here and being miserable. Come see where you'll be staying and then you can come straight back. Maybe by then, he'll be out of surgery."
They balked.
"Commander, if something goes wrong . . . we want to be close by," Jesse explained.
"And you will be," Cody assured them. "Like I said, you can come straight back. But I think you three especially need a break. I'm giving you an order."
Jesse had never disobeyed an order or even considered it; and he would not do so now.
"Yes, Commander."
"Trust me, I'm sure if anything changes, they'll come find you," Cody said.
Au-Ogusta led the clones through a series of hallways until they exited the healing house through a door on the northern end that opened onto a sort of botanical garden, interspersed with dozens of buildings of various sizes and designs. Directly ahead was an edifice of such magnificence as to rival the Jedi Temple.
"What is that building?" Cody inquired.
"That is the Taber," Au-Ogusta replied. "Our place of worship."
From just behind Cody, Three Point spoke up. "What, uh, what exactly do you worship here? Are you Force users?"
"Do you mean to ask if we are Jedi?" Au-Ogusta posed, sounding amused. "No, we are not Jedi. We recognize the existence of the Force, but we do not worship it. Like all else, it is a created power. We revere the One who created it, who created all things."
"Like a god?" Three Point supposed.
Au-Ogusta inclined his head. "Yes."
Cody, seeing that his pilot was about to ask another question, made a subtle gesture to wave him off. The last thing he wanted was a theological debate that might risk offending their hosts.
As they passed through the three hundred meter length of garden, the sound of rhythmic speaking—chanting—could be heard coming from one of the smaller capellas. Walking by the open doors, the men were able to see inside where a group of perhaps thirty or forty sisters were all kneeling, heads bowed, hands clasped in front of them.
"What are they doing?" Bounce asked.
"They are praying," Au-Ogusta replied. "They have been asked to pray especially for your friend – the one who is badly wounded. They will continue to do so until he is healed." He let his eyes drift over the rest of the group. "In the Taber, there are over a hundred praying for safety and healing for all of you."
"But . . . why?" This from Three Point.
"It is what we do," Au-Ogusta replied.
"And that's—that's, em, very good of you," Cody stammered, not wanting to get into this kind of discussion. "We can use all the help we can get." There, that was as noncommittal and diplomatic an answer as anyone could give.
Au-Ogusta recognized Cody's discomfort, and he understood it. He imagined that, in the life of a clone, the metaphysical carried little weight, if any. Working with the Jedi might have opened them up to the existence of the intangible; but it seemed clear—at least to Au-Ogusta—that these clones had not even the tiniest jot of spiritual or religious training or inclination. And there was no reason to expect otherwise. They had been created to fight, not to ponder the existence of primary movers. They were in awe of the grandness of what they were seeing, but they could not comprehend the purpose behind it. And in that way, they possessed a certain . . .
Innocence might not be the word, but something akin to it. A singularity of their own purpose that Au-Ogusta found admirable, even as he found the purpose itself detestable.
"Come, your quarters are not much further."
He led them around the Taber on the west side, and here they picked up a narrow shaded path that ran close to the outer wall.
Jesse considered that they had walked at least a kilometer, and he was fretting that they were getting too far away . . . just where were these accommodations?
And then the pathway opened up and there on their left was a row of very attractive block structures, single-story, each offset slightly back from the one beside it, rocky gardens with sparse desert flowers blooming in front. Behind them and between the wall was a line of tall trees, whose layered branches gave them the appearance of holding up green clouds of leaves.
"These are the Seba Tops," Au-Ogusta announced. "There are ten units in the front row and ten units in the back row. Further down, there is the next set, and those rooms are also ready. You have your choice of any you choose."
"How many men to a room?" Cody asked.
"However many you please, but the sisters have supplied them as one per room," Au-Ogusta replied. "I will leave you to yourselves to settle in, and I will be back before the evening meal to take any who wish to eat." He looked to Cody. "I believe you want to go look at the speeders now."
"Yes."
"Oh—uh! Is there—is there anything to eat now?" Bounce spoke up.
Au-Ogusta nodded. "Your rooms should be well-stocked."
"You weren't kidding when you said the desert ruined most of these," Cody stated. He went from one broken down speeder to the next. "How long have these been here?"
"Some have been here for many years. Others, only a few weeks," Au-Ogusta replied. "Most pilgrims who come by speeder either leave by speeder within a few days; or if they stay longer, they usually must return by Shempa or Losla."
"Losla?"
"The animals you saw pulling the carts." Au-Ogusta shook the sand off one possibility. "Most pilgrims come by foot or by Shempa or Losla. They know the beasts are most at-home in the desert. They can go many days without water, and they enjoy the heat and sun. Here, try this one."
Cody leaned over the speeder and pressed the ignition. The sparkers ignited and immediately died. Cody tried again, but this time there was no spark. "I'll have Zinger and Tip take a look. They're pretty handy with stuff like this. Maybe they can get it running. Are there others?"
"We can check."
"Are you sure there isn't even one speeder you took inside the walls?" Cody asked, hoping against hope.
"Not one, Commander," Au-Ogusta said. "We eschew any form of mechanized transport. Even our supplies and the raw materials for constructing our medical devices are brought by beasts of burden. Because of our aversion to such transports, we do not allow them within our walls. We would be overrun with vehicles with no place to store them."
"Well . . . I guess I'll keep looking."
"You will only have another two or three hours," Au-Ogusta stated.
Cody looked up. "Why is that? The sun looks like it's at least still four hours above the horizon."
"Do you see the orangish haze? That is another stand storm. If the breeze continues as it is right now, it will come this direction."
"I see," Cody said. "So, if I find a speeder that might work, will you permit me to bring it inside to keep it safe?"
"That we will permit," Au-Ogusta said with a nod.
"Uh, we will be safe in there, right?"
"Yes, the Monastica has survived many thousands of years of the desert and its tempests," came the reply. "We will be quite safe. But if you wish to keep looking and move some within the walls before the storm comes, we must work quickly."
"Right, then let's get to it."
"I feel like the king." Tip flopped back on top of the large bed and stared up at the ceiling of his richly appointed room. "Does your room look like this, too?"
In the doorway, Bounce leaned against the jam. "Just like it. I don't think we've ever stayed in anything like this. I don't know how I'm going to be able to go back to sleeping in the barracks after this."
"Did you see all the fruit and nuts and things to drink over there?" Tip asked.
"I already ate all mine," Bounce replied. "And drank it all, too. I think that red stuff is an alcoholic beverage."
Tip chuckled. "Did you come over to eat and drink all mine now?"
"Neh, not unless you don't plan to eat it. I'm starving. What time is the dinner bell?"
"You never change. Go ahead. Help yourself."
Bounce walked over to laden table and helped himself to a piece of fruit. "These things are delicious."
"Do you even know what it is?"
"No idea. I just know it's good."
At that moment, Jesse appeared in the doorway. "We're heading back up to the healing house. Let the commander know, will you?"
Tip sat up. "We'll tell him, yeah." A pause. "Let us know . . . let us know what happens."
Bounce was less tentative, but then again, he had always been known for speaking his mind without fear of the consequences. He said what he felt, and if it turned out he was wrong . . . well, he'd never been wrong up to this point. "He's gonna be okay. He'll pull through. I'm sure of it."
Jesse gave a nod, but his face showed no indication of whether or not he agreed with Bounce. He rejoined Hardcase and Pitch on the path and they began walking. They had just passed the Taber, hearing low-key singing coming from within, when they encountered Au-Sinti coming from the opposite direction.
"Ah, I was coming to find you. Your friend is out of surgery."
Jesse felt his pulse quicken. "Is he alright?"
"He is stable," Au-Sinti replied. "I will go with you to the main house. His healers are still there. They can tell you the details."
"Is he going to live?" Jesse pressed.
"I cannot answer that. Come, we shall go speak to the healers."
They crossed the botanical garden and came to the house of healing. Here, they followed Au-Sinti back through the labyrinth of halls until they came to a small room adjacent to the larger one they had all been in earlier.
"Wait here." Au-Sinti disappeared behind a pair of swinging doors. A minute later, he returned with the two healers Jesse recognized as Kix's doctors.
"I'm Fils Au-Josat, head surgeon for your friend. You want to know how he is," the first said in his direct and easy vernacular.
The three clones nodded.
"He made it through the surgery fairly well," the healer began. "How many days had he been injured before you got him here?"
"I think—it was three?" Jesse answered. "I'm not sure."
"The injury itself was manageable," Au-Josat continued. "A lot of damage, but reparable. What complicated things was that he was so weak and dehydrated by the time he got here, he'd lost so much blood that his body was struggling just to . . . keep the blood pumping. He was on the verge of organ failure in a number of areas. There was a lot of infection, too, around where the rod had gone through, and it had traveled in his blood to other parts of the body. He's on heavy antibiotics. We'll see how well he's responding within a few hours. Right now, he's got a tough uphill slog, but there's still a good likelihood he'll pull through. You all did an amazing job keeping him alive." The healer looked at them one-by-one. "Your friend should be dead. Whatever you did, you gave him a fighting chance."
"So you—you think he'll survive," Hardcase prompted, just to make sure he'd understood correctly.
"He has a very good chance."
"Can we see him?" Jesse asked.
"Of course. He's been moved into continual care. You can see him there, but he won't be conscious," Au-Josat explained. "That's still a day or two away, perhaps three."
The other healer spoke up. "But it is important that you are there, close to him." This healer had the more formal speech and manner of the other brothers. He also appeared older and with a certain wisdom in his eyes that went beyond the skill of medicine.
"This is Fels Au-Cepha. He assisted me in performing the surgery. He's an internist, among other things. He'll be overseeing your friend's continuing care," Au-Josat introduced. "And now, if you have no questions for me, I would like to meditate before the evening meal."
"Uh, no, no questions. Thank you, doctor—eh, brother—I'm not sure what to call you, what to call any of you," Jesse stumbled through his gratitude.
"Brother has a nice ring to it," Au-Josat grinned. "But don't worry yourself on that account. Doctor, healer, Fels, or by our names . . . we aren't particular." He turned to leave, but a thought occurred to him first. "By the way, what's your friend's name?"
"Kix," Jesse replied, adding, "He's a medic."
Au-Josat gave a slight nod. "Well, Kix has a strong will to live. I think I see why." With that, he excused himself and departed.
Au-Cepha spoke up. "Come with me. I will show you to his room."
"Will we be able to stay with him?"
"Certainly."
Jesse was surprised, for in his experience with clone medical facilities, there were very small time windows for visitors, and certainly tight control over anyone in the critical care units.
"I will have one of the brothers bring up plates from the evening meal," Au-Cepha told them. "I imagine you must be very hungry, but I think you will not want to leave him, and he will be glad that you are there."
"But . . . Brother Au-Josat said he's still unconscious," Pitch pointed out.
"Yes. But he will know you are there . . . on a deeper level."
The confusion and color rose in the three clones' cheeks.
"We're just simple soldiers" Jesse deferred. "We, uh, we don't know anything about that."
"That is alright," Au-Cepha replied. "Understanding is not necessary for a thing to be true."
He led them up to the second floor and past a bustling nurses' station where at least a dozen sisters were busily occupied with their duties. He went into a room several doors past the station.
The clones hesitated on the threshold.
Au-Cepha turned and seeing their trepidation, motioned them inside. "Come in. There is room for all three of you."
Jesse took a deep, steadying breath and led the way inside. He had braced himself for the worst, envisioning the tubes and wires and machines of the clone medical facilities. What he encountered instead was subtle and calming with none of the fearful aspects of most critical care units.
There was one bed in the room with only a single monitoring console on the wall beside it. A rectangular frame extended from the wall over the bed, and from this frame there emanated a field of orange light. It had a mist-like appearance, and it fully enveloped Kix, lying on the bed as if asleep. There were no breathing tubes, no infusion lines, no pumps . . . it was a peaceful environment.
In fact, if he hadn't known already, Jesse never would have been able to tell Kix was injured. Still, seeing him there, knowing there was danger lurking even now in the deceptively tranquil scene before him, yet unable to quell a sense of relief that he knew was most definitely premature, he could feel his insides twisting into knots.
Au-Cepha pressed a button on the panel, and in less than five seconds, a sister appeared.
"Bring some more chairs for our friends, Sister," he ordered. "And I think they will want to have their meals here. Would you please send word to the kitchen."
"Yes, Fels."
Pitch had moved up and was standing directly beside the bed. "What is this?" he asked, referring to the orange light.
"We call it a cold field," Au-Cepha replied. "It actually has many functions. It regulates the body temperature, speeding or slowing functions as the injuries dictate, creating a sort of stasis field. It provides a sterile environment and destroys harmful bacteria. And it performs cellular regeneration on a molecular level."
"Can we . . . put our hands in it?"
"Under normal circumstances, you would be able to do so. The stasis field would cause you no harm. And the cellular regeneration is individually programmed based off the patient's DNA. Therefore, if I put my hand in . . . " Au-Cepha demonstrated, " . . . nothing will happen to me. But since you, as clones, all share the same DNA, the atomic scan would seek out any abnormalities in your own molecular structure and begin repairs. We have restricted that function of the field to the part of his body through which the foreign object passed. Otherwise, it would begin correcting any molecular irregularities." The brother gave a sidelong grin. "Such as tattoos."
"Wow, that's, uh, that's powerful stuff you're talking, doc," Pitch noted.
"So, we can't touch him," Jesse concluded.
"I would not recommend it," Au-Cepha replied.
"Here we are, and we can't offer any kind of support," Hardcase grumbled.
Au-Cepha turned towards them, his hazel eyes reflecting the serenity of his soul. "Physical contact is a crucial part of living and also of healing. But it is not the most important. There are greater connections than flesh-to-flesh. Your bonds are very strong. I admit I am surprised, for I would not have thought that clones would feel such ties. If I can feel what emanates from you, do you doubt that he can feel it, as well?"
"I guess . . . I guess that makes sense," Jesse said, though his true thought was that it made no sense at all.
Au-Cepha was not fooled. "Not yet. Not yet, but it will." A pause. "I must go check on my other patients. Stay here with him as long as you like, as long as you need."
As long as you need. Jesse thought it was interesting that he and Hardcase and Pitch were being identified as ones in need – not just Kix. He waited until Au-Cepha had left the room before daring to join Pitch beside the bed.
"Do either of you have any idea what he was just talking about?" he asked.
"It sounded like more Force talk, you know," Pitch replied, "All that stuff about being bound together. General Skywalker's said things like that a few times."
"Yeah, but we're—we're—our bonds are the bonds of brothers, fighting men," Jesse stated emphatically. "It's the result of being raised and training together. If we'd had different batchers, we'd have different attachments."
"Well, that takes the cool out of it," Hardcase smirked. "I dunno, I can't really imagine having other squad mates."
"Yeah, if Top heard you saying that, he'd chew your ears off, Jesse," Pitch added.
"I wish he was here now," Jesse sighed.
"Yeah, can you imagine? He'd be all into this," Hardcase said, affecting the enthusiasm of his absent squad mate. "He'd be out there leading those chants and prayers and probably singing to the moon. Damn, he'd probably convert! He believes in all that spiritual stuff."
"You mean, superstitious stuff. There's a difference," Jesse corrected.
"Eh, you have to believe in one to believe in the other, don't you?" Hardcase shrugged.
"I don't think that's how it works," Jesse replied, a hint of amusement breaking through.
"Well, right now I'm willing to believe in anything if it will help Kix," Pitch said resolutely.
Jesse eyed him curiously. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I can give this prayer thing a try . . . if someone shows me how to do it."
"Well, don't look at me," Hardcase waved off. "The only prayer I know is that my blaster doesn't overheat and jam."
Pitch laughed. "Yeah, I know that prayer, too."
Jesse smiled and shook his head. "I guess that really is a kind of prayer, isn't it?"
"Probably not the kind they have in mind here," Hardcase pointed out.
"Maybe the kind they have in mind really work," Pitch suggested. Then, despite Au-Cepha's warning, he reached into the shield and gave Kix's shoulder a quick squeeze. "Anyway, I think he'd want me to find out, eh?" He headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To find someone who can show me. What the hell do—oops. I mean, who knows, it just might work." He stopped in the doorway. "I won't be long. Like the brother said, I think it's best for us to stay close by."
"Don't make a spectacle of yourself," Jesse warned in a voice that indicated he knew enough about Pitch to feel such a cautionary note was necessary.
Pitch winked. "Well, now you're making it hard."
I admit I love the title for this chapter, and I hope you were able to figure out who the shade trees are . . . the very protective three of them! Hoo, there you go! Some of my favorite parts to write are when the clones try to figure out what to make of the spiritual aspects of the Brothers and Sisters. Some are cautious, others are gung-ho, others just find the whole thing confusing, and then there's Hardcase . . . 'nuff said! Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you're so inclined.