Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles) (9 page)

BOOK: Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles)
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“I know.” With my arm around her shoulders, I nudged her down the corridor and further from the heat to the
storage room where others worked on stacking the supplies we’d rescued from the lab.

“Seal off the hall to the weaponry and evacuate above and below. This isn’t going to be pretty
,” a captain ordered.

Raeth gasped.
“What do you mean seal it off?”

His eyes
widened. He took a step back, the soldier obviously hesitant to give bad news to the legendary girl with the excessive power. “We need to lower the blast shield and seal off the area.” He motioned someone over to the controls.

Raeth lunged to block the man’s path. “You c
-can’t. Penton won’t make it out.”

“If we don’t seal it and Penton fails then we’ll all be dead.”

“S-Semara, we c-can’t let them.”

He’ll die to save the Triune.
Fallon’s words echoed in my head. Was it really Penton’s destiny? No, I rejected the prophesy. My mother was wrong. Penton wouldn’t die. The Triune was supposed to save the world, and if Raeth lost Penton, she wouldn’t survive. But if I was wrong, I’d be sealing Penton and the fate of the Triune to a fiery grave. My heart ached as I met Raeth’s horrified gaze. “The captain’s right, Raeth. Penton will either succeed and therefore survive or he’ll fail. But if we don’t shut the blast doors, we’ll all join him, thereby destroying the Triune.”

Raeth
’s glare of contempt-laced hatred speared my soul. My best friend, confidant, and sister to my fiancé looked ready to grab her blaster and shoot me dead. Not even when I was twelve and didn’t stop Mandesa from taking her leg had she stared at me as if wishing me to drop dead.

Everything in me demanded I rush back and force Penton to flee, but I couldn’t. Penton and the captain were right. Struggling to control my tremors, I forced myself to hold firm.

I hit the blast door button and watched it slide shut.

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

 

What have I done?
my heart and mind cried out.

You
’re a leader, who made the necessary decision that kept causalities at a minimum.

B
riggs died because I didn’t use my gift correctly. I should’ve melted all metal on the bomber.

You haven’t been in close-quarters combat and used your gift, Semara. With time, your choices and reactions will become automatic, and Briggs is critical, not dead. She managed to duck behind some cabinets and other debris covered her body. Casualties are not as high as our original estimates.

Thank goodness.
A little hint of hope filled me, but was quickly squashed.
But that doesn’t change the fact I’ve just sentenced Penton to a horrific death if he fails, and based upon Mother’s prophesy, he’ll die.

The funny thing about seers
, they see things based on past and current events, plus probability. But should one event be altered, so too is the future outcome.

What do you mean?

You found Penton outside Acadia. He chose to come with you and in the process has discovered a love and gift for weaponry. I suspect when Lanena made her prediction, she didn’t see Penton because he wasn’t in the picture yet. Besides, the person she foresaw had no experience or inclination toward weapon development. That’s why I believe Penton wasn’t the individual seen.
Even through our telepathic conversation, I heard the pain in my father’s voice as he said my mother’s name.

But whoever it is, will be someone who’s important to me?

Yes.

A spark of hope ignited in my core and I took Raeth’s hand. “
I just spoke with my father. Penton will be okay.”

The anger faded from her gaze and s
he forced a grin. “I know. He’s Penton. But I don’t like taking any ch-chances. He’s perfect. Look.” She showed off her leg once more. “He made th-this for me. No one even looks at my implanted leg anymore. It’s flesh t-tone, shimmery, and pretty, not bulky and metal. I hated th-that leg. I would’ve torn it off years ago if I had any other choice.”

“You never complained,” I whispered as the acid of my guilt inched up my throat.
“I didn’t know you hated it that much.”


One doesn’t whine or c-complain when you have Ryder Arteres as your brother. He took c-care of me and raised me to be tough. I owe him a lot.”

I squeezed her hand in reassurance. “We all do
, and now you have Penton.”

Around us, the
floor and walls shook for several seconds, rattling the cabinets and shelves, then settled.

Raeth’s brows
narrowed, creating furrows between them. Her teeth bit into her lower lip. “He’s okay. He has t-to be.”

I took her hand and walked to the controls
, only to have the captain block me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to retrieve my friend.
The fire’s out. I know because the air was super-heating and it isn’t now.”

He didn’t budge.

Father? A little help here or I’m going to melt that darn control panel.

The
captain straightened and lifted his chin.
“Open the door.”

“But,
sir—”

“I said open it.”

By the way, I like when you call me Father. Just don’t do it around the men.

No problem. Thanks…
Father.

The blaster door slid open
, taking my determined leadership mood with it. Making a decision was one thing, facing the consequences was another.

I
f Penton was dead, I wasn’t sure which would haunt me more—the loss of a friend or my best friend growing to hate me as she grieved. Worse, I knew if it had been Ryder, my choice would have been different. Yes, I would’ve used the excuse that Ryder was a third of the Triune, but in my heart I knew my love for him would have been the true reason.

Before the war, was
Mother ever wrong in her predictions?”

Silence.

Was she?

No.
But as I said, the person who dies won’t be in the Triune or affect it.

Is it you?

Not that I’m aware.

If it were, would Mother have told you?

Yes
.

A
mist cloud drifted into the hallway. “Captain, masks.” After all Penton had gone through not to expose us, it would be supremely foolish to take chances now.

The
captain disappeared behind the far wall of shelves and returned with biohazard masks—one for each of us. Once we’d snugged them over our faces, I clasped Raeth’s hand and squeezed. “You want me to go first?

She shook her head.
“N-no. I need t-to be with him.” She released my hand and strutted to the blast door. She leaned into the hall, checking it out. “Th-the fire’s out. Th-that means it worked.”

Grasping the back of her vest, I
prayed the hope in her voice defeated our worst fears as we shuffled blindly down the smoke-filled hall. Then she started jogging. As frightened as we were of what we’d find, Raeth’s joy at being able to run without the impediment of a clunky, metal leg, which froze at the most inopportune times, filled my mind.

When s
he tripped, I flew forward along with her, my hip slamming into something. Using my hands, I blindly searched for the obstruction that hadn’t been there minutes earlier.

Raeth bumped into me, her fingers feeling for what had tripped us
as well. “P-Penton.”

My
fingers curled around a leg. It had to be him.

Behind us, I heard g
uards advancing and the accompanying sucking noise of chemical vacuums. Within moments, the mist cleared and I could see it was Penton’s head in Raeth’s lap. Yanking her mask off, she covered his face in kisses while murmuring, “If you l-love me, d-don’t you leave me.”

I held my breath and pressed my
trembling fingers to his neck. Nothing. I repositioned my hand and waited.

Thu-thump. Thu-thump
.


We need a medic,” I yelled.

“Need a medic
in weaponry,” the captain called out.

One of the hazmat-suited soldiers knelt beside us.
“Put him flat on the floor.” He jerked his head and two soldiers moved forward. One lifted Raeth and moved her a few meters back, while the second motioned me to him.

I rose and joined Raeth as a soldier carrying a medical kit arrived. “Captain, see if you can find the sergeant who was with Penton and assess the damage to the weaponry.”

The captain nodded and, taking some men, moved passed us down the hallway.

The soldier set his medical kit on the floor.

“Adams, hand me the scope,” the hazmatted soldier said. Adams opened the kit and removed a metal funnel-shaped object from the padding. With Penton’s head tipped back so his neck was stretched, the hazmatted soldier put a thumb on Penton’s chin and eased his mouth open.

As he began to slide the funnel in Penton’s mouth, Raeth screamed, “Wh-what’re you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” the soldier holding Raeth said. “Doctor Morrison knows what he’s doing.”

“The scope guarantees the air tube and suction tube stay in the trachea,” Morrison explained. He glanced at Adams and nodded.

Adams removed a large bronze device with a glass gage then attached a rubber-looking tube with a smooth, narrow opening at the end and handed it to Morrison.

“What’s that?” Raeth and I asked simultaneously.

“Suctions fluids and chemicals from the lungs. Oxygen next,” Morrison said, staying focused on his task.

Licking my cracked lips, I clutched Raeth’s hand as Morrison threaded first the suction tube then a second thinner tube through the scope’s opening. “Set.”

Adams flipped a switch and a sucking noise, kind of like slurping, started. A couple seconds later, he turned a knob on the small oxygen canister connected to the thinner tube and puffs merged with the suction. Penton’s chest began to expand with each puff and contract with each slurp.

Was
my father correct, the outcome of the prophecy wasn’t fixed?

Raeth’s and my joined hands heated.
I felt her within me. Together, we sent Penton waves of energy and love. Yet I couldn’t help but wish Ryder were here, his healing gift working.

A grey
liquid drained from Penton’s lungs as a gurgle joined the noise of the two machines. A nanosecond later, brownish mush poured out into the biohazard bag attached to the suction machine.

Morrison glanced at us.
“That’s damaged lung tissue.” Spotting Raeth’s blank face as she rocked and hummed, his eyes widened and he looked at me.

“When Raeth’s overwhelmed or very frightened, she sometimes escapes into a private world.”

“Don’t we all,” Adams muttered.

Morrison shot him a glare then rose and strode over to us. He clasped her shoulders and gave a small shake.
“Raeth, there’s minimal tissue damage. He’ll recover.”

“Don’t
ya worry, wee one. General Bellator sent me.”

Hearing Dred’s voice just behind me,
I turned toward him. Large gashes marked his arms and forehead. “You okay?”


Aye, pretty face. Got stuck under some concrete, but got meself and a few others out. Workers doin’ the rest. General knew I be down here, so he sent me to fetch brain man. We’re to report to the mess hall an’ get ourselves fixed up.”

Raeth looked up at him
, tears filling her big, brown, pleading eyes. “Th-thank you,” she said, her relieved smile able to melt the strongest of men.

Dred cleared his throat. “No worries
, wee one. I’ve got him once the doc get them tubes outta ’im.”

We watched as Adams replaced the biohazard bag and Morrison continued to monitor Penton’s vitals. When the bag was changed again, Morrison’s jaw unclenched, and grinning, he looked over at us. “It’s clear. Nothing’s coming up. Tell the medic he was exposed to chemicals and fire retardant. They’ll know what to do.”
Gently, he eased the suction tube from Penton, but taped the thinner tube to the corner of his mouth. He nodded to Dred and handed Raeth the small oxygen canister. “He’s all yours.”

Dred bent, lifted Penton in his arms, and cradled him against his chest. “Come along, you two beauties.”

Raeth and I hugged Adams and Doctor Morrison, thanking them.

The Captain waved them into the lab. “In here, the sergeant needs attention.”

As we turned to leave, the captain moved in front of me. “You’re General Bellator’s daughter.” At my nod, a look of satisfaction crossed his face. “He’s right.”

“About what?”

“You were born to lead.”

Me a leader?
I wasn’t ready to command troops in battle. My father, Fallon, and Ryder were soldiers, not me.

Wrong, daughter.
You were called upon to make one of the toughest decisions a commander can. Sacrifice a friend for the greater good. Because of yours and Penton’s action, the Arc was saved and we’re still alive. Stop second guessing yourself. That leads to inaction and failure
.

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