Courage (13 page)

“His wife was among the casualties.”

Daio let out an exasperated sigh and stared at Aerigo, then lost his burst of anger. He opened his mouth to say something but shook his head and began pacing in a small circle.

“That’s horrible news,” the receptionist said. “And he’s so young.”

“A young fool,” Daio said.

“Kennin, pause the video.” The screen froze and Donai leaned back.

“What’s wrong, sir?”

“This video isn’t just a history lesson, is it? I need to learn some biology and physiology; not watch a soap opera.”

“You will be satisfied within the next several seconds. As I said, the doctors who compiled this journal were a bit roundabout.”

“Fine, fine. Continue it then.”

“Aerigo has every right to grieve and to take time to absorb what he did. He’s discovered the first half of an Aigis’ true power.”

Daio spun in place so fast that the camera couldn’t keep up. He stared wide-eyed at Baku, then studied Aerigo. He made and unmade fists at his sides. “So that’s how... is this torpid state a side effect of bringing out so much power?”

“No.”

“Is Aerigo not human?” the receptionist ask, putting a hand on the seated Aigis’ shoulder.

“No,” Daio said. “Can you still fix him?”

“I would like to think so. Kismet’s specialty is medicine, after all.”

“Stupid question on my part.”

“Not at all.” The receptionist took one of Aerigo’s wrists in her hand and concentrated. “His pulse is rather low. Is that normal for... what are you?”

“Aigis, yes,” Daio said. “I guess you can go, Baku. I’ll stick around until he’s situated and get all the doc’s questions answered.”

“Very good. Keep me informed.”

“Only if you promise to not let Nexus know a single scrap of information about what Aerigo did.” When Baku gave him a puzzled look, Daio added, “Please.” His tone was sincere, borderline desperate.

The old man stared a moment longer, then said, “You have my word.”

“Good.”

Baku handed over the tablet and left the hospital. Daio got behind the wheelchair and turned it around so he was facing down the hall, towards the camera.

“Oh my, his eyes glow,” the receptionist said. She kneeled before Aerigo and lifted his chin. “What other powers do Aigis have that might help or hinder medical care?”

“Uh, we’re physically strong and--”

“Kennin, pause the video real quick. I want to write this stuff down.” The screen froze and Donai took his palm computer from his breast pocket. He opened up the word processing program and began thumbing down the list of traits Daio was drawing up. “Okay, go.”

“--can move very fast, and, uh, our bodies don’t puncture or bruise or break easily. We’re a lot heavier than we look. The doc said I was well over four hundred pounds last time I was here. We’re resistant to hypothermia and burns. We heal quickly but we’d need bones reset if they heal wrong. We can get over most illnesses within a day or two. Uh, I don’t know. Our minds and emotions work just like yours, but we have this annoying trait where our eyes glow different colors, based on whether we’re angry, sad, or scared. His are blue right now because he’s as depressed as anyone can get.” He thought a moment. “I don’t know what else would be useful to mention.”

The receptionist had been typing away on the tablet as Daio had formed a list. “What’s that half of his true power the gentleman mentioned?” she asked without looking up.

Daio looked at Aerigo. “I sort of know. I can sense his energies. They’re different from what I’m used to. He feels depleted.”

“How long ago did the death of his wife happen?”

“Maybe two days now.”

The receptionist typed that in as well. “Thank you. Please have a seat in the lobby with Aerigo. I’ll call his name when we’re ready for you.”

The screen went black and white lettering appeared as if someone was typing the words out.

The Physical Examination

The words disappeared and the screen faded in to a small checkup room. The camera looked down at the room from a corner over the doorway. Aerigo sat on a cushioned exam table, wearing a hospital smock and his boxers. His bare feel dangled above the tiled floor. He wore a blank, blue-eyed stare into oblivion. Daio was leaning against the counter, frowning, and arms folded. A doctor wearing a lab coat was noisily putting on a pair of latex gloves. The doctor had short, steel grey hair and laugh lines etched into his face.

“By the way, I’m Dr. Kramer. I’ll be giving Aerigo a physical before we send him off to the psychiatrists. Do you know when his last physical was?”

“I don’t think he’s ever had one. We don’t get sick or hurt too easily.”

“So it sounded like in the briefing they gave me.” Dr. Kramer picked a tubular instrument with a cube-shaped object on one end out of a drawer, then crossed to Aerigo. He lifted the Aigis’ face by the chin and shined a light in his glowing eyes. He squinted from the other side of the instrument. “How do you get his eyes to stop glowing? I can’t see anything but blue light.”

“We don’t have any control over it. You’d have to get him to stop feeling depressed first.”

“Ah.” Kramer moved on to Aerigo’s mouth, nose and ears, Daio watching his every action. “What causes the glow?”

“It’s just bioluminescence. We have luciferase and luciferin in our eyes. Nothing fancy or magical. Scientists call it cold light, but we can attest it makes our eyes warm up a bit.”

“And you have no control over it?”

“Certain emotions control it, doc. No one’s ever explained to me why our eyes glow in response to our emotions. And I’m not about to turn myself into a lab rat again, just to find nothing.”

Kramer tapped his readings into the tablet on the counter, then took the stethoscope from around his neck and inserted the listening ends into his ears. He crossed to Aerigo once again and untied the back of his smock. “Aerigo, I apologize if the metal’s cold.” The big man acted as if he’d heard nothing and continued staring at nothing. Kramer methodically placed the stethoscope on various parts of Aerigo’s back, pausing at each spot before moving on to the next. He tried asking him to take deep breaths but got no response to that either.

“I could punch him in the gut and see if that works,” Daio offered.

“Please don’t harm my patient. I’ll just have to make do with what I can find while he’s in this state. We can reevaluate him another day. His heart and lungs sound perfectly healthy anyway.” He draped the stethoscope back over his neck and tapped a few more things into his tablet, then moved on to the rest of the exam, checking Aerigo’s height, weight, blood pressure, BMI, and so on. Daio helped move Aerigo as needed, and explain what was normal as Kramer worked and asked questions and jotted down more notes. Once the doctor was done, he discarded his latex gloves in a hole cut into the counter and picked up the tablet. “What world are Aigis from?”

“We don’t have a home world actually,” Daio said, still leaning against the counter. “We’re really rare. The gods make us and send us off to be born on any world of their choosing. We don’t have a set form. We--”

“Gods? Yeah, right,” Kramer said bitterly.

“What? Never met one?”

“They don’t exist. Kismet stopped wasting time and energy on such mythical beings thousands of years ago.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Kramer raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Daio looked at Aerigo. “Some other time. I just want to finish this stupid assessment so I can leave. Where was I?

Kramer glanced at his tablet. “No set form.”

“Right. We just take on the shape of whatever mortal gives birth to us, but in the end we all have the same powers and glowing eyes. Just a custom shell and no world to truly call home.” Daio peeled his eyes from Aerigo and looked at Kramer. “By the way, a doc from long ago said Kismet calls our kind ‘Nomas.’ Apparently we’re another myth to you. You can call us Aigis or Nomas. I don’t care.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard the term,” Kramer said, tucking the tablet under one arm.

“No surprise there. Either the whole world knows, or no one knows. The doc was a big history buff. Whatever. Guess it won’t help you. Are we done?”

Kramer nodded. “This time you get to wait in the psyche ward. If you don’t mind staying around for them as well, that would be great, especially if you know a lot about Aerigo.”

Daio looked away. “I sort of do.”

“Well, just to give you a heads up: the psychologists will run some baseline tests on his neural functions, take a blood test--can we puncture him with needles?”

“I’ll help you without harming your patient,” Daio said grudgingly.

“Thank you. There’s also a detailed questionnaire that will help give therapy direction.”

“Whatever you do, don’t turn him into a pill-popper. I can’t stand him in this sorry state. I just want to beat sense into him and snap him out of it.”

“Kismet resorts to pill popping as a last-ditch effort. We’ve discovered better treatment methods that don’t turn into other problems, like addiction or dependency. ”

“Good.”

“Now let me get an aide to guide you to the psyche ward.” Kramer walked out of the frame.

Daio stood up straight and steered the wheelchair over to Aerigo.

Kramer walked back into the frame, his back to the camera. “Hold on. I remember something about Nomas.”

Daio paused, a hand on Aerigo’s shoulder.

“I had an interesting mythology class in undergrad. The professor--”

Aerigo gasped and spread his arms, knocking Daio aside, and his eyes shifted from blue to yellow. His voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Run. Get away from me. Now.”

Daio and Kramer gave him confused stares and didn’t move. Their hair began to dance as if there were a breeze in the room. Within a matter of seconds the swirling air built to tornado force, snapping cabinet doors off, pulling drawers open and sending contents flying. Glass and plastic objects shattered against the walls. The wheelchair crashed against the counter, and flying debris made it hard to see into the room.

Daio suddenly had Kramer by the arms, who was clutching his tablet for dear life. Both men bent towards Aerigo as Daio braced against the swirling air. Then they gasped and clutched at their chests, the tablet went airborne and the doctor was thrown to the ground. Using one arm, Daio picked the doctor back up while clutching his chest with his free hand. His eyes were glowing yellow. “He’s recharging!” Daio yelled.

“What do you mean?”

He chucked Kramer off screen, then planted himself before Aerigo. “Aerigo stop it! You’re killing us!” He started gasping for breath.

“I can’t. Just run.”

Daio sucker punched Aerigo in the stomach, who doubled over. The wind continued to swirl with tornado force that almost drowned out Daio’s voice. “Stop being so pathetic! You do one bad thing and your life comes to an end? Snap out of it!” Daio gasped again and doubled over. Aerigo was still hunched over, clutching his stomach as the air swirled around them both. With agonizing slowness, Daio straightened himself up enough to cock a fist, arm shaking with the effort. He took a deep breath, then punched Aerigo in the head. Aerigo took a moment to absorb his shock, then lunged for Daio with both hands, eyes blazing red. He seized him by the neck and lifted him into the swirling air. Daio pedaled his legs and tried to pry himself free, but couldn’t. His legs swung slower and slower, until they merely dangled. “Aerigo, please,” he said in a strained voice. “You’re killing me and everyone around us. If you can’t stop the recharging process, then at least suck in the electrical energy or something. I don’t want to die.”

The wind roared away in the camera’s microphone. The yellow glow in Daio’s eyes began to fade as he feebly tugged at Aerigo’s grip, who suddenly let go and backed into the exam table. He gripped it hard, hard enough break it with two metallic snaps. Daio rolled onto his back and tried to sit up, but couldn’t do anything beyond flop his limbs. Aerigo closed his eyes and the tornado paused. When he opened them again, they were glowing blue. The tornado resumed and the camera lost power. A pregnant silence followed and Donai felt the pressure of it in his ears. The screen filled up with text.

Aerigo’s power caused a blackout that spread several blocks into the city that lasted maybe a minute. That display of power added credibility to the myth surrounding the Nomas and what happened when the Neo-Joso aliens finally left Kismet.

End of entry.

Chapter 11

Donai looked at Skitt, who looked at him, wide eyed and mouth slightly ajar. Donai’s was ajar as well. He couldn’t help but keep it open. They were
lucky
Aerigo hadn’t inadvertently caused another blackout. He had to be doing the same exact thing in the end of the video, but this time it had started gentler. At least Daio had explained what was going on: recharging. So what was all that power for, why was it so violent, and what had prompted Aerigo to use it before he’d come here with Rox?

“Do you think we should, uh, move Aerigo out of the hospital?” Skitt asked. He’d stopped gaping but his eyes stayed widened.

“The thought crossed my mind, but I’m thinking we wouldn’t be able to move him far enough away without hindering our ability to treat him. He’s already started and we still have power. The outage proves that he went straight for the electrical supply. And... Skitt, you’re not married, are you?”

“My girlfriend and I just broke up recently,” Skitt said somberly.

“Sorry to hear.” Donai looked around the archives. No one was paying any attention to them, even after the loud end of the video. Apparently sound didn’t carry well in the room. “We can ask Jenna to see into Aerigo for confirmation, but what I think is that it’d be better to keep him here, near Rox.”

“That’s what you said earlier. I remember quite well how Aerigo reacted when we tried to get him out of the room, but still: why keep them together?”

“I think Aerigo--” Donai cut himself off. What he’d been about to say sounded so lame and mushy in his head, but he couldn’t help but wonder. “Please don’t laugh at this.”

“You think they’re in love,” Skitt said softly.

Donai gave the nurse a wan smile. “He did carry Rox all the way here in his arms, and at the cost of his own health. He doesn’t want to leave her side, and her short acquaintance with death made him do something really strange. He knocked the four of you back with what felt like a shockwave when you all tried to move him.”

Skitt nodded. “We have an interesting pair of aliens on our hands.”

“I think it’s imperative we make sure the girl lives and recovers as much as we can.”

“Ugh, nerve regeneration therapy.” Skitt winced.

“It’s worth the time and pain in most cases. For now, we should schedule a Dreamwalker.” Donai thought a moment. “Hmm, maybe for both of them. Aerigo has a lot of data to offer as well.” He checked the time in the upper right-hand corner of his palm computer. Another half an hour had gone by in the time it took them to pore over the girl’s blood work and watch the video. He slipped the device back into his breast pocket. Jenna hadn’t paged him, nor had Capera with a fresh case of poisoning. Air poisoning wasn’t anywhere near as common, but every now and then air filtration systems failed and the hospital would get swamped. It was hit or miss. Rox was going to need his attention sooner or later, that he was certain of, and he was itching to use the Dreamwalker in hopes of helping Rox through her nightmare with the venom. “Skitt, did you know that every black dragon venom survivor has reported a nightmare in which they battle a dragon?”

“What’s so special about this nightmare?”

“The dreamer has to win the struggle against the dream dragon. If they don’t then they live the remainder of their lives in a permanent stupor. Makes them easy prey in the wild.” Donai shook his head. “Considering Aerigo’s admission to the psychiatric ward, there’s a good chance that they used a Dreamwalker on him, but I’m wondering if we should--never mind.” He faced the computer and waved at the sleeping screen. The screen returned to the page with icons of individual video journals. “It’s too late for Rox. She was already dreaming earlier.”

“Good point, unfortunately.”

“Kennin, is ‘Dreamwalker’ referenced in any of the journals?”

“Yes, sir. And considering the power outage earlier this morning, which, from listening to your conversation, it might be a sound idea to watch this one next.” A video icon grew on the screen and centered itself. It portrayed a picture of Aerigo asleep and in bed, with a bouquet of wires sticking out of his head. The title read “Nightmares of Power.” “This may let you and the rest of the hospital know how much danger you’re in, and what
not
to do to him. Can the patient named Rox spare the time?”

Melodramatic title...
“Is this one roundabout?”

“No, sir. Just a lengthy explanation at the beginning that is worth listening to. I will skip the first half of the file, though. Do you have a Sensor on your team?”

“That we do.”

“He or she will get more out of the first half of this file, along with a separate file.”

“I can find a gellikin for her,” Skitt said.

“Sounds good,” Donai said. “Kennin, go ahead and start what you want us to see.”

The screen went black a moment, and then it showed a seated doctor, who was looking at the camera. He was elderly with a receding hairline just above his ears, he sat a bit hunched, and had plenty of life in his hazel eyes. Behind him loomed a large monitor, and beneath it lay a cluttered desk.

“The doctor’s name is Edrick Prye by the way,” Kennin said.

“Thanks.”

“Okay,” Dr. Prye said, “the only part of the Dreamwalker I actually need to introduce is the screen right behind me.” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder to its darkened screen. “The dream will appear on it in real time, showing exactly what Aerigo sees. Hopefully this will be interesting and insightful.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Donai said lightly.

Dr. Prye produced a black, plastic headset from his lap, put on and adjusted the mic so its receiving end sat right at one corner of his mouth. He swiveled his chair and centered himself in front of the monitor.

The screen Donai and Skitt were viewing shifted to what the Dreamwalker displayed: blackness, with a mouse pointer in one corner. The mouse zipped to the bottom edge and a band of icons popped up. Dr. Prye clicked on the one in the shape of a half-open eye with a green iris. A small window popped up, prompting him to create a file name. He named it “Aerigo’s Dream, 21 Moon of Nesting 3137.”

The screen showed several seconds of footage from a corner camera in the room Aerigo was sleeping in. Its lens zoomed in on the big man’s equipment-laden face. His face looked a bit flushed, and his brows were slightly creased. The screen shifted back to the Dreamwalker’s blank screen.

“Let me brief you real quick on what I explained to Aerigo right before he went to bed,” Dr. Prye began professionally, “Since the machine sees only what the dreamer sees, we often ask our patients to create a mirror if the dream unfolds from a first-person point of view. Scientists find it useful to see the dreamer as well. If this occurs, Aerigo will know what to do, helping me intrude on his dream less and insure his chances of staying asleep.

“In addition, experimentations with other sessions have led to the discovery that using a hypnotist really ups the quality of the whole Dreamwalker experience. Our clients don’t involuntarily wake up as often, their dreams last longer, have richer detail, and they feel more empowered while dreaming. A local hypnotist had a session with Aerigo earlier tonight.”

Two rectangular windows appeared onscreen, a large one on top of a smaller one. The smaller one read, “Sleeper Not Ready” and the bigger one displayed three sliding rows of sleep wave patterns, all labeled.

“Half the time the client dreams omnisciently and it’s like watching a disjointed film. That’s what we’re hoping for tonight.”

The top window blinked, and the smaller one read, “Sleeper Ready.”

“Okay, it’s about four in the morning and Aerigo has begun a stage of REM sleep long enough for the Dreamwalker to intrude upon.” Dr. Prye lowered his voice. “Let’s see if we can make some magic. I’ll be going silent until the dream has gone on for about a minute.”

There was silence and darkness for ten seconds before the first image appeared on the monitor.

A running shower head faced the screen, its steaming water falling just below the bottom of the screen. The stainless steel was sharply defined and bright. The rest of the image was blurry.

A turkey sub on a plastic tray replaced the shower. The meal filled up almost the entire screen, each folded slice of meat looking moist, and the golden brown bun looking soft with a crispy exterior.

A smiling woman appeared in place of the sandwich. Her rosy lips moved but no sound came out. The screen bobbed, then steadied itself. The woman’s head turned and left one way, while the rest of her body headed in the opposite direction. The separated parts disappeared.

A dreamed-up Dr. Prye sat on the sleep lab’s bed, getting hypnotized by a portly man in a black suit. Somewhere a clock ticked away.

Children laughed.

Tic, tic, tic...

The resonant voice of a man said, “And now you will dream clearly.”

The ticking stopped.

The eye of the dream looked down at open hands, strong hands. Those hands made and unmade fists. The eye looked up and a hazy white ceiling flashed into view, and then drew closer. A gust of wind. Donai recognized Kismet’s starless night sky as it replaced the white ceiling. The sky rushed closer as well. The eye of the dream flew past the edge of the sky faster than any rocket Donai knew of, and then the screen went black again.

“Aerigo, can you hear me?” Dr. Prye asked softly.

A road consisting of two strips of dirt divided by tall grass materialized on the screen. A forest lay on the right and hazy darkness on the left. It was night. In a wagon sat a frightened woman hunched under her shawl. She clutched the reins to a horse and snuck a quick look at the eye of the dream. A huge scowling man stepped into view and towered over the screen. The stubble on his face and his dark eyes were his boldest features. The rest of him was blurred.

“Aerigo?” Dr. Prye called.

The scowling man spoke in a harsh voice that was loud enough to cause Donai to turn down the volume a bit. “Don’t you dare come back, you hear?” He sucked in his breath and cocked a fist.

“Aerigo, it’s Dr. Prye,” the scientist called a little louder.

The scowling man threw his punch, but the dream wiped him away right as the fist filled the entire screen. The fist disappeared like someone had pulled a sheet off a bed. Darkness followed, then moonlit fog.

“Who’s there?” a frightened boy’s voice called out, echoing.

“Dr. Prye, Aerigo. Do you remember?”

“I recognize the name,” the boy’s voice replied. “But I don’t know who you are.”

A grizzly bear loped through the fog and towards the eye of the dream. A small hand reached out and patted it on the head.

“I’m a doctor. I’m here to help you.”

“This is Firsos. He helps me. He’s the only one who’s not afraid of me, or mean.” The hand scratched the bear behind the ear and Firsos leaned into the scratching, eyes closed in content.

“I’m not afraid of you, Aerigo. I want to be your friend and help you.”

“Friend?” The boy said, the word echoing. Firsos licked the hand. “I’ve never had many friends.” Donai turned up the volume. The boy was soft spoken.

“Will you help me get to know you? I’d like to be your friend.”

The bear turned around and padded away. The eye of the dream hurriedly bobbed as it ran to catch up and walk beside Firsos. “Okay.” The fog gave way to modest moonlight and a cliff looking out over an ocean. The cliff had two waterfalls.

“Where are we?”

“Where are you?” the boy asked.

“Wherever you are.”

“My favorite cliff.” The bear and the eye of the dream stilled. The bear looked back a moment, then looked ahead. It slowly rose to its hind feet and at the same time vanished.

“It’s beautiful. How did this particular cliff become so special?”

“I just like it. I can forget about all the mean people while I’m here.”

“Aha. A fitting sanctuary. Do you spend a lot of time here?”

“I remember you, now.” The eye of the dream bobbed to the gait of running, and then a smooth forward motion as the edge of the cliff gave way to nothing but sparkling grey water a mile below. The waterfalls created mist on both sides of the dream eye. The ocean rapidly drew closer as whipping wind roared away. The ocean drew closer still as specks of rock jutted above the crashing waves. The mist blurred the eye of the dream. The ocean drew even closer. Individual waves rolling to shore became discernible. Hands wiped the eye of the dream, making the images clearer and sharper. The ocean was suddenly within a hundred yards of the boy’s outstretched hands.

The boy splashed into the ocean, churning water replaced roaring wind, and the screen went mostly dark, getting broken up by bubbles rushing upward. The water calmed until it sounded like a stream flowing over a stony bed.

“Aerigo, are you okay?”

“Yes,” Aerigo’s deep, adult voice said. The eye of the dream saw nothing but dark water.

“Good. Who were those people and the bear, Firsos, might I ask?”

“Firsos was just an imaginary friend from my childhood. Those people were my parents.”