Bane of the Dead (Seraphim Revival Book 1) (25 page)

Seth hurried across the hand’s giant digits, then leaped down to the torso of Quennin’s seraph. He wasn’t even conscious of the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Under normal circumstances, a seraph would never open its cockpit hatch unless specifically ordered to by the pilot. But the seraph recognized the presence of a medical emergency and accepted Seth’s command override. Mnemonic skin peeled back along three sides of a rectangle, forming the edges of the cockpit hatch. The hatch swung out, stopping when it pointed straight up.

He hurried over to the cockpit hatch and looked down.

Quennin’s body lay still in the pilot alcove, arms spread, head lolling to the side. A diagonal slash along her i-suit was charred black, mimicking the damage to her seraph. That scorch pattern wasn’t from external heat, but from the burning temperatures within her suit.

“Quennin!”

Seth climbed into the seraph, cold fear chilling him. He crouched down at her side and gently picked up her head and turned it to him. He wanted to see her face, to witness even the smallest sign of life.

But there was none. Her entire face was burned to a blackened crisp.

Chapter 16

Weapons of the Eleven

Seth leaned against the bulkhead just outside the
Resolute
’s medical ward, trying his best not to fidget, worry, or look nervous.

He was failing on all accounts.

It had taken the combined arguments of Zo, Mezen, and several sovereigns from the Choir to make Seth leave Quennin’s cockpit, but despite his desire to stay, he understood their orders. He could do nothing for his beloved, whose life had hung by the merest threads, and Aktenzek needed every possible defender.

Seth had boarded his seraph once again and rejoined the battle. By then, Jack and the Bane had made their escape, but multitudes of Grendeni warships and archangels remained. Seth attacked their numbers with an unquenchable fury until the Grendeni forces began folding space towards Imayirot.

All the while, emergency response teams carefully transported Quennin’s body to the medical facilities in the Sovereign’s Palace. It took only minutes for the response teams to reach her, for they had already been dispatched to recover Vorin.

The Sovereign was expected to make a full recovery, but the same could not be said for Quennin. Her vitals had been secured and her body mended, but she’d suffered severe cranial damage. Once Quennin’s health was stabilized, the Choir immediately transferred her to the
Resolute
.

With the Grendeni fleet on its way to Imayirot and the Gate, the Aktenai fleet had no choice but to follow. A sizable force of ships and seraphs still remained at Aktenzek, but the bulk of the Aktenai fleet now pursued the Grendeni at maximum speed. Even now, the
Resolute
made fold after fold in an effort to catch up.

Despite their haste, the Grendeni would reach Imayirot first.

Little of this passed through Seth’s mind. Under different circumstances, he may have been surprised by the Gate’s location in such a sacred place, but for now he gave the revelation no more than a passing thought. Instead, he thought of Quennin and wondered if the person behind the medical ward’s door would be the woman he knew so well.

It doesn’t matter,
he thought, but his own reassurance felt hollow. Of course it mattered.

Fear kept him outside the medical ward, fear of what he might find within. Aktenai science could mend flesh and bone, but an injured mind could never truly be healed. Seth had looked down at Quennin’s broken body once and only once before he had to turn away.

Her wounds matched those of her seraph: a fierce burn from just beneath the right rib cage, then up and through the head. Only her i-suit had prevented death from extreme organ trauma before medical teams had arrived.

Seth had thought he could handle the sight of her silent body. But dozens of surgical arms furiously wove her flesh back together, and the morbid view had been more than he could bear.

The doors parted, and Zo walked out, her face grim, eyes downcast.

Seth pushed up off the wall and stepped closer. “Well?”

Zo looked up with moist eyes. “It’s pretty bad.”

Seth’s throat went dry, and he waited for Zo to continue.

“There was a lot of brain damage,” she said sadly. “And while the physical damage has been repaired, her mind has…”

“Zo, just tell me.”

“She’s lost a lot of her memories. I don’t know how many, but the prognosis says the losses may permanent. She didn’t recognize me.”

“I see…”

Zo gave him a cheerless grin. “But it’s not all bad. She’s asking for you.”

Seth nodded and walked to the door. Zo stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest.

“Seth, something else happened to her. She’ll never fly a seraph again. Her talent is gone.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Seth brushed her hand aside and walked in.

Along the medical ward’s ceiling were the robot operators: hemispherical machines with bunches of dangling insect-like arms. Seth walked further into the ward and stepped into the first partitioned room on his left.

Quennin lay on a futon with white covers over her body and underneath her arms. Few signs of surgery existed unless one knew where to look. An angry pink line traced up along her neck and through her face, passing through a line of scalp shaved of hair. Her skin was pale and her face weary.

Quennin looked up from her futon, her eyes meeting his, and he could see the recognition in them. Seth smiled warmly. He walked over and knelt at her side.

“Hey.” Seth took her hand in his. “How do you feel?”

“Ehhh… not very good.”

“You’re doing a lot better than before.”

Quennin chuckled weakly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you need anything?”

Quennin shook her head. Her hand tightened on his. “Just stay here for a while.”

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Seth, I’m having trouble remembering things.” Quennin’s eyes started misting up. “Important things.”

“I know.” Seth placed a hand on her forehead and gently brushed strands of hair out of her face.

“That woman said I may never regain my memories.” Quennin tried to sit up in her futon. “She said the damage might be permanent.”

Seth winced.
That woman is your closest childhood friend…

“Yes, I know.” He gingerly pushed her down. “But I don’t care about that, and neither should you. You’re alive. Nothing else matters.”

Quennin rested on her back and stared at the ceiling. “But Seth, my mind is so clouded.”

“You remember me.”

“Yeah, I know who you are, but I can feel gaps where memories should be. I don’t even know how we first met.”

“Do you remember your first visit to the Sovereign’s Palace?”

“No.”

“Vorin brought you to the seraph bays. I saw you when I landed.”

“And what went through your mind when you saw me?”

“I imagine the same thing most seven-year-old boys think when they see a young girl. Not a whole lot. I was more annoyed with Vorin than anything else. He’d interrupted a particularly fun duel between me and my father.”

Quennin stared at the ceiling, but her eyes started to light up and a smile crept onto her lips. “I think… I think I might remember that. Yes, I do! Your seraph looked so
huge
. I saw it being lifted into the bay.”

“That’s wonderful, Quennin. See? Your memories aren’t all lost. Do you remember what you thought when you saw me?”

“You were so… short.”

Seth laughed a little. “Did you have to remember that?”

“And you had this mean scowl on your face.”

“Anything positive?”

“Umm… Not really. I was so nervous when I saw you. I thought you were scary.”

“That sounds about right.”

“And then you made me cry!”

“Not on purpose.”

“And why was that? Oh, now I remember! You didn’t like my gift. I made a model of your seraph and you
said it was stupid.”

“I also said I was sorry.”

“But only later.” Quennin grinned. “I worked so hard on that model. I was sure you’d love it.”

“In my defense, I do still have it.”

“Really?”

“It’s in my quarters if you need proof.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll take your word for it.”

Seth gave her a reassuring smile. “What else can you remember? Let’s start there.”

“It’s strange. Some things I can recall perfectly. Others are so murky. That woman said I’ll never pilot a seraph again. I don’t really know how I feel about that yet.”

“Come on, Quennin. Let’s face the facts. You’re one lucky woman.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Quennin, you’re
alive
. You met the Bane in battle. You fought against that monster, and you’re still with us.”

“I suppose you have a point there.”

Quennin took a slow, calm breath. But then, her eyes went wide.

“The Bane!” she said. “I remember! I had something to tell you before we left! It was important!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Seth lightly brushed her forehead. “Just rest for now.”

“No!” Quennin sat upright in her futon. “No, it’s there. I can almost remember it. This was important, I know it! It had something to do with the Bane.”

Seth thought back to before the attack. Quennin had come running into the seraph bay with a look that had sent chills down his spine.

“Seth, I think I know why Jack—”

And then the Grendeni had launched their attack on Aktenzek.

“It had something to do with Jack,” he said at last.

Quennin nodded slowly. She put a hand to her forehead.

“Seth, I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything. Just name it.”

Quennin spoke in a soft, careful tone, enumerating a puzzling set of steps. The whole thing seemed nonsensical, but he agreed. How could he not do this for Quennin, even if the exercise appeared pointless at face value?

“Make sure you get another pilot to join in,” she said. “Like one of the Earth Nation pilots. I… don’t count anymore.”

“Of course. I’ll return when I’m done.” Seth stood up.

“And keep this quiet. Don’t let the Choir know.”

Seth nodded, hoping that this odd behavior wasn’t a symptom of worse problems. He walked out of Quennin’s room and linked with the medical ward. One of the operators moved silently across the ceiling and stopped above him. A single spindly arm reached into an internal compartment, produced a thin black case, and handed it over.

Seth opened the case and inspected the rows of ingestible capsules, each containing hundreds of microscopic sub-probes for monitoring bodily health. Normally, Aktenai robot operators performed surgeries with their own internal scanners, but sometimes a more precise on-site analysis was called for. Swallowing these capsules was one method for introducing the tiny probes.

Seth closed the black case, pocketed it, and exited the medical ward.

Yonu stood waiting outside the exit. “Is Pilot S’Kev…”

“She’s doing better,” Seth said.

“Is it true that she’ll never pilot a seraph again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Yonu stared at the floor. She seemed to be summoning the courage for something.

“I can help,” she said quietly.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Yonu looked up. “I can help. Without Pilot S’Kev, you’ll need someone to watch your back. Let me do it.”

“Thank you, but no. I am grateful for the gesture, but you must realize you are no match for the Bane or even Pilot Donolon.”

“I am not useless! You and my mother sent us away because you both thought we couldn’t help! But I can!”

Seth put his hands on Yonu’s shoulders, looked into her eyes, and saw the terror in them. She feared what she was asking permission to face. But in spite of that terror, she possessed the conviction to face it head on.

“I see why my son was so fond of you,” Seth said. “But this is not your fight, and it is not your decision.”

“You can’t face them alone.”

“I will face him no matter the circumstances, no matter the odds. Even if it means certain death.”

“But—”

“Respect my wishes and do not ask again.”

“I…” Yonu closed her mouth and looked at him sadly. Finally, she bowed her head. “As you wish, Pilot Elexen.”

***

Seth palmed the thin case of biometric probes, wondering what Quennin hoped to find. Even though the probes could monitor anything in the human body, she was interested in only one function: their internal clocks. He couldn’t fathom what she hoped to find, but he would carry out his beloved’s wishes regardless.

The distant hum of the
Resolute
’s fold engines escalated sharply then ebbed away. The carrier had just completed another spatial fold on its way towards Imayirot.

The door to Jared Daykin’s quarters opened and Seth walked in, surprised to find not only Jared, but the twin Renseki pilots, Kevik and Kiro. The three pilots sat around an Earth Nation board game his son had been fond of. Seth had never figured out its elaborate rules, despite Tevyr’s numerous attempts to educate him.

Jared stood up. “Commander Elexen.”

The twins rose as well and offered Seth polite nods.

Jared smiled and gestured to the twins. “Sir, I finally found some opponents I can beat at chess.”

“You have hardly given us time to learn the rules, Jared,” Kiro said in a strangely familiar tone. Or perhaps it was Kevik. Seth always had trouble telling the two brothers apart.

“Don’t spoil the moment, Kiro,” Jared said, all too informally, but the Renseki didn’t seem to notice.

Ah, so that one is Kiro,
Seth thought.

“Anyway, what can I do for you, sir?”

Seth produced the case of biometric probes and set it on the table next to the playing board. “I have a little experiment I want to run. I’d like you to help me, and if the Renseki don’t mind, I’d like them to join in as well.”

“Of course, sir. Anything to lend a hand.”

The twins nodded curtly to Seth. “We’ll join in. What do you require?”

Seth opened the case and selected a pill. “These are standard biometric probe capsules. I’d like each of us to swallow one.”