Arrows of Time (30 page)

Drayco was right. They didn’t have swords at their sides but were armed with short metal hand weapons—like the laser guns used by ASSIST troops, only smaller. She weighed up the options and slowly released her grip on her sword, moving her hands away from her sides and up into the air.

What are you doing, Maudi?

There was no time to weave a spell, and her instincts told her not to fight, not yet.
I’m going to see what they want first. No need to draw blood
.

I’m not so sure
.

Call Fynn back for me, can you?

Down, pup!
Drayco’s voice was deep and booming.
Stay still.

She smiled at Drayco’s clear enjoyment of the command, letting the approaching group think the expression was for them.

Fynn is still,
the pup sent back, his mental voice small.
Fynn is scared
.

It’s all right, little one. We’ll figure this out.
She kept the smile on her face.
Keep it light and easy
, she thought.
No threat here.
The words calmed her, but her head was spinning.

They stopped several feet in front of her, weapons sheathed, but the man’s hand hovered over his. They stood like people who had spotted something wrong and knew just how to fix it. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing his weapon at Fynn.

Rosette didn’t fully catch the words with their strange accent, but the question was obvious. Fynn understood it too and showed his fangs.

‘Don’t mind him. He’s just a pup,’ she said.

‘State your name and ID.’ The voice came from the woman closest to her. It wasn’t friendly, but the gestures were unmistakable.

‘I am…’ Rosette hesitated as she began to form her reply. Suddenly, she was uncertain how to answer. It felt as if an invisible hand had reached into her mind and pulled the plug, draining out all current and relevant facts. Her sense of self started to disappear. It whirled like water down a pipe, blurring into a stream of colourless recollections, all racing by too quickly to discern before they were sucked away. Her name went first and then her familiar’s, followed by any memory of why she was here or what the young dog was doing at her feet. ‘My name is…’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘I mean, I’m called…’

A second guard stepped forward, a man with a sharp-edged aura. She could see his eyes behind the lenses as they stared at her. Like his face, they were dark and penetrating. He glared unblinkingly, and as her memories disappeared she thought she recognised him for an instant. It was like the tail end of a thought—something that vanished before it made any sense. What was it about him? He was so like someone she knew. She reached out her hands as if to keep from falling. There was a question she wanted to ask, someone to call to for help, but she didn’t know that name either, or where they might be.

Maudi? What’s happening? I can’t see you any more.

What was that voice inside her head? She loved the sound of it, longed for it in some unimaginable way. She couldn’t place why. A word started to form, then vanished before she could shape it. The guard stepped closer. She had to do something—and fast.

‘Hand over your weapon,’ he said, nodding towards
her sword. ‘Unless you can produce your ID and permit right now.’

‘Weapon?’

She looked down at her side as if noticing the long black scabbard and ornate hilt for the first time. The guard reached out to grab her, pointing his gun as he did. Instinct took over—a force of nature inside her, violent as a storm.

Of its own volition her right hand drew her sword, a thin blade designed for a single cut that gave no warning. She dropped to one knee and carved the air in a semicircle over her head, taking out the man’s hand weapon and his fingertips with it. He stumbled, clearly not anticipating her response. His face blanched as he snapped back his hand, realisation slowly registering as blood pumped from the stubs.

Instantly she boosted her blade with her inner strength, a potent magic, the energy knocking him to the ground with a backhand slap, aiming to disable, not destroy. ‘If you’re smart, you’ll stay there,’ she said, ducking to ward off the short club that came out of the woman’s belt and was lowering towards her head. It struck her side as she leaned away, a winding blow. The next slice of her sword came so fast it blurred the air. She cut left, slicing the club in half just above the woman’s gloved fingers. Taking her sword in both hands, she held the blade high, boosting the tip with energy until the steel turned iridescent blue. The second woman had her weapon drawn and aimed at Rosette’s chest. She fired just as Rosette turned the blade side-on. The deflected ray shot back up the guard’s hand and the woman dropped her gun, screaming. The canine beside her let out a savage growl, lips pulled back, white fangs bared. It hurled towards the nearest guard.

A searing heat shot past Rosette and the young dog fell to the ground mid-launch. It didn’t move again.
The next thing Rosette felt was cold metal against her temple.

‘Raise that weapon again and I’m going to lobotomise you. Do you understand what that means?’

Rosette froze, shifting only her eyes to look at the man who held her point-blank. Blood seeped from his fisted hand and saturated his sleeve. His jaw was locked, eyes steady.

Maudi, don’t fight them now. Just go along and we’ll figure this out. I’m with you. I can hear you. You can hear me. It’s all right.

There was that lovely voice again. It sounded worried. Well, why not? Even if it was her own schizophrenic demons talking to her, they had good cause for concern. She lowered her sword, pulling zaps of energy back into her solar plexus as she did.

She wanted to respond to the voice inside her head. It felt like someone close, someone she could trust, but she was having trouble linking words to thoughts. Like pages lit with a match, her mind was being incinerated, turned to char before she could read the words.
Who are you?
she asked the voice in her head.

I’m with you, Maudi. It’s okay. I’m just on the other side.

In the blackness that followed, she felt hands, hard and rough, buoy her up. Voices shouted at each other. More joined in. It meant nothing. The language was completely foreign again and the effort to listen took her last flicker of strength. She let out her breath, rolled her eyes up into her head and slipped away.

E
verett didn’t know how long the com unit had been blinking. His head had been so deeply buried in his studies, the flashing red light hadn’t registered. He checked the readout code and flipped on his monitor.

‘Kelly! There you are!’ A three-centimetre-square image of the admin operator shouted into his headset.

Everett enlarged the screen. ‘What’s up?’

‘You’re the kid on call, aren’t you? We’ve an emergency coming in.’

‘What is it?’

‘You think they tell me? Just get yourself to Trauma, stat. You’re the only one around.’

‘What about Hass or Richards?’

‘Out of the building.’

‘I can’t run it without an attending.’

‘They’re buzzed, on their way. If I were you, Kelly, I’d hurry. They’re having fits on this side.’

‘Which port?’

‘Trauma One. If you jump now, you can meet them at the doors.’

Everett scrambled out of his chair, a shooting pain going through his head. It felt like someone had clobbered him. He shook it off and bolted from the reading room. He ran down the hallway and into an elevator just before the doors closed. The numbers overhead flashed in descending order before coming to a halt on the ground floor—trauma Level One. He charged down the hall, a fellow med student thrusting protective gear into his hands.

‘Are they here?’ he asked. His breath came in gasps as he donned cap and mask.

She tilted her head towards the main entrance. ‘Just coming in now. They got hung up in traffic—lucky for us. I was sound asleep.’

A med tech rolled the gurney through the double doors. Another tech was astride the patient, doing chest compression.

‘What do you have?’ Everett asked, falling into step with them. He indicated the main trauma room; a path opened before them as people jumped out of the way.

‘Female, of unknown age, name or origin.’

‘What do you mean, unknown?’ Everett interrupted. ‘Scan her.’

‘Did that already. No ID.’

‘Impossible. Scan her again.’

‘I’m telling you, we did. She’s blank.’

‘No microchip?’

‘Like I said, no ID.’

‘Could she be a feral?’

He shook his head. ‘Too tall, and too clean.’

‘Where was she found?’

‘Back lots.’

‘Be specific, please,’ Everett said.

‘The back edge of the North Sector.’

‘She was in the prohibited ring? How can that be?’

The med tech glanced at Everett’s name tag. The letters were small, as they were for all the medical students. It was one of Admin’s subtle ways of reinforcing hierarchy.

‘Mr Kelly, is it?’

Everett nodded.

‘You’re fifth-year, aren’t you? The attending is on the way?’

‘What’s your point?’

‘You’re asking the wrong questions. We aren’t here to solve a mystery. We’re here to save her life. She’s down and unresponsive. If I were you, I’d be focusing on that.’

Everett grabbed the gurney, shoving the other man aside. ‘I need a history,’ Everett said, his voice cool. ‘And her point of origin is imperative to that history. Are you going to give it to me?’

The med tech raised his brows. When they turned the next corner, Everett veered to avoid a collision with an oncoming group of nurses.

The tech caught up. ‘All I know is she was called in by a security detail,’ he said in a rush.

‘Conscious at the time?’

‘When they first spotted her, yes. Conscious and fighting in the most arcane way. Two of the wounded guards are right behind us.’

Everett looked over his shoulder. ‘Really? Wounded guards?’

‘One’s lost a few fingers; the other has cracked ribs and facial paralysis.’

‘How?’

‘She carried a weapon—a sword. Knew how to use it too. Like in the old cinematics.’

‘You’re kidding. A sword?’

‘Saw it myself. She also had a mammal with her.’

‘A what?’ Everett’s mouth hung open.

‘Yeah, shocked us all. I think it was canine, but I’d have to look that up.’

Everett turned his focus towards the patient. Her long black hair was tangled with twigs and bits of grass. Her face was pale yet clear. Not a pockmark on her. Couldn’t be feral. It didn’t add up. ‘Heart rate?’

‘She was tacky at 190 when I got her on the monitor, then flat line, decreased breath sounds bilaterally and pupils dilated, unresponsive to light—no accommodation.’

‘Treatment?’

‘We started a saline drip, and administered oxygen en route.’

‘Been doing external cardio for twenty-five minutes,’ the woman astride the gurney said between compressions of the patient’s chest.

‘That’s it?’

The emergency team came towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. Everett motioned them into the trauma room and they assembled, ready to run the procedure, looking to him for instruction. This was his final year of medical school. He had only a few months to go in the trauma ward and he’d be a doctor, fully fledged. He was confident he knew what to do, but was still meeting with resistance from the tech. How hard was it to give a quick and concise history? Just because traumas of any kind were rare didn’t mean they should be this difficult.

‘You didn’t shock her?’ he asked as they came to a halt alongside the stainless steel table in the centre of the room. ‘Didn’t give E-lites? Retropulse?’

The medic grabbed his wrist. ‘Unknown origin, Kelly. No chip. You heard me, didn’t you?’

Everett snapped his arm back. ‘I did, but…’

‘You know the rules?’

‘Of course. No ID: DNR, donor status only.’

‘That’s right, and when I last checked DNR meant
do not revive.
I follow the rules.’

‘I see that.’ Everett motioned to the med tech to stop compressions as they transferred her to the table. The nurses hooked his patient up to the monitors and he saw for himself—flat line, no cardiac activity. Respiration nil. Brain activity, nil. ‘Tube her.’

‘DNR?’ the med tech said.

‘DNR, unless there is a crime involved. Judging from that guard’s missing fingers,’ he said, nodding towards another gurney wheeling by, ‘there is.’ He leaned forward. ‘Positive oxygen, six litres.’

‘Your call, Kelly.’ The tech shook his head.

‘Thank you,’ Everett said. ‘They’ll want her awake for questioning. Stand back.’ He listened to her chest, eyes widening as he noticed an image embedded in the skin of her upper arm. An elegant creature, mammalian, possibly feline, with the tail circling her bicep. His hands trembled. Where was this woman from? ‘Let’s wake her up, people. Ten ccs E-lites, IV,’ he said, keeping his voice steady. ‘Get dialysis going. I want her blood cleansed and filtered in the next five minutes.’ He checked the wall clock. ‘And I want her heart back online, stat! She’s no good even to Donor like this.’

‘Like what?’ A nurse frowned at the flat line.

‘Dead.’

‘Is that possible?’

‘Apparently.’

‘Paddles?’ a fellow med student asked, charging the crash cart.

‘Do you know how to use them?’

‘I’ve seen tutorials.’

‘Then shock her!’

The nurse hooking up the intravenous drip set let out a squeal. She leaned towards the patient’s body.

‘Look at that.’

There was another image on the woman’s leg, going from the back of her knee to the top of her hip—a snake?

‘How real does that look?’ the med tech said.

‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never seen one, and neither have you.’

‘Well, she has. She had an animal with her.’

Everett studied her arm. ‘She’s been outside the borders,’ he said, keeping his voice calm.