Chapter 43: 42: TROPHY

Talitha and Adam were separated as soon as they arrived at Silatem’s Capitol City HQ for emergency medical treatment. She'd toured the Silatem facility in the past with the other Pender-Pal wards, both current and graduated, for a publicity event when she was a fresh inductee to Cloverland’s junior academy. That was a year after she'd been granted residency in Altir and the massive facility still daunted her, stark and professional. There were armed men everywhere to protect the most sensitive areas of the building.

Pleasant people in uniform greeted her and an administrator took revolving images of her in the state she arrived, sampling her blood before escorting her to the clinic inside. The staff discovered she couldn't speak and provided her a small panel where she could input phrases that communicated sound. They gave her a white examination gown to wear, storing her blood-stained and faintly-glimmering costume along with Adam’s jacket in a polymer container after she’d handed them the scraps.

A kind doctor and a pair of assistants met her in an examination room, accompanied by a high ranking officer that worked directly for the Silatem president, a man who introduced himself as Mr. Jamal Noor—though Talitha was welcome to call him Jamal. She preferred to call him Mr. Noor, however. It was more polite.

Noor remained patient as he questioned her lightly about the incident with Spencer that caused her muteness as well as Spencer’s background and gang affiliations as the doctor completed what was needed. Talitha swiped her words over the pad's communication board to respond, the effort taking minutes to complete each time.

"Your wounds are heavily aggravated," Noor said as the doctor handed the soiled binding CDPD had completed on her earlier to an assistant. "A lot of damage and they’re infected, discolored and bleeding sporadically. We're fortunate you're here. Are you in a lot of pain?"

-Yes, she pressed onto the board’s projected letters. A disembodied voice spoke for her. -Much pain. Always.

“You’re trembling, an involuntary reaction. Dr. Yonson will give you something to help you feel better for now, so you can rest. Right, Doctor? She’ll relax for a while, as she needs, and we’ll take things slow."

"Yes, my dear," said Dr. Yonson, sliding goggles over his eyes to take a closer look at the wound, gently guiding Talitha's head to the side as he blotted the area gently. "You're going to have to go in for surgery. After we've treated the inflammation and stitched you back up you can recover in a therapy bed. You'll feel much better once you're resting in those rays. Later, when you’ve improved a suitable degree, we’ll work on redeveloping your voice. It's not over. We have the technology. There are possibilities."

-Thank you.

"The boy who bit you, Miss Morai," continued Noor. "Do you know how he got infected?"

-Purple Dot.

"Purple Dot—that's a contraband Dot, right?"

-Yes.

“And your boyfriend was a dealer of it working with Jackal’s gang?”

-Yes.

"Do you have any left?"

-No.

"All right. No need for concern. We’ll find it other ways and you've done well. Thank you for the information you’ve provided so far. I know you’re still under extreme strain and it’s difficult to revisit your memories. As I said, slow is just fine."

-Kalum Khelot.

"Kalum…Khelot?" Noor thought to himself for a moment. "Khelot, that’s Judge Khelot's girl, the priestess. Yes, I've confirmed that she was retrieved alive by the president’s ground team and is now safe in PHS care."

-Okay?

"She suffered injuries. Broken bones and other trauma, but she'll be taken care of now. I don't have access to her records but I can promise she's in perfect hands, and her condition can be verified once this situation settles more. Is the priestess a friend of yours?"

-Important to me. I’m worried. I want to see. Please. Please. She’ll want to see me too. She’ll want to know.

"I understand." Noor patted Talitha on the arm. "I’ll do what I can, including sending alert to her caregivers that you’re with us. Silatem's caring for you now and we aren't integrated with PHS, but that’s a minor issue to send a message. I'm not sure what the standards are for a transfer like yours to where she is but via treaty we have both you and Adam for fourteen days. I can't promise that we can arrange a visit either at this time—especially if Ms. Khelot's been moved to critical care. It might take a while."

-Please find. Please tell.

"I'll see what I can do. Once the president returns we’ll have more options with his clearances and authority."

-Thank you. How is Adam?

"He's undergoing his own examination at the moment. Surgeries, too. That hand of his…has to be completely reset, to the best we’re able. The success of that is where we’ll have to place all of our positive energy. His damage is severe, and so is yours. When you're both doing better you'll be able to see each other again without delay."

-Thank you.

The doctor completed his physical examination over the next half hour, taking detailed notes on Talitha's injuries once she disrobed. He allowed her privacy to dress again as they transferred her for surgery and she slipped the gown back on when one of Dr. Yonson's assistants, a female, continued the assessment with gentle but probing questions. Talitha knew why they wanted to know about her time alone with Jackal. If he’d done what he’d threatened over and over he would do to her, even as her own supposed father. She felt an inner recoil within herself remembering, even though the threat was long gone.

-He didn't force himself on me. Not that way.

The assistant helped Talitha fasten the gown. "Okay. Very good. He threatened you with that assault but his contact didn't surpass physical battery and extreme harassment."

-Yes.

A slip of sadness permeated the assistant’s tone despite he professionalism. "It’s still more than enough damage. Your time imprisoned with that monster, with his constant pushing…no telling what would have happened if you were around him any longer. These bruises all over you, that gash on your chest, the wounds on your scalp from torn-out hair and the abrasions from the chains…I can only imagine the state you were kept in and how you were treated. I’m probably nowhere close to reality.” The assistant lowered her head for a moment before resetting herself to duty. “You’ll need advanced recovery to work through the terror, someone to talk to who can help you heal. You're brave to survive what you encountered.”

Talitha’s face wrought at the mention of the word—brave. She didn’t feel brave at all. She wasn’t sure how she felt, period.

-No. Not brave.

“You are,” said the assistant firmly, resting her hands lightly on Talitha’s shoulders. “My daughter…she’s a wee one, but when I look at you I see her—what she’ll become in time. And I’d be devastated if someone ever tried to…ah. Or if she should ever see a sliver of what happened here–”

Tears reappeared in Talitha’s eyes. The assistant stopped and gathered herself, shaking her head and releasing Talitha gently.

“Sorry. Sorry. Don’t cry—please don’t. That was out of line. I’m really sorry. We at Silatem…we care about you so much. We’ll make sure you’re well. We’ll do everything we can." The assistant fetched a cloth from a nearby dispenser and offered it to Talitha, standing back as Talitha blotted wetness from her eyes. "You—everyone—you kids are unbelievable. So much courage to hang in there. We're glad to have you back. We’re glad you’re here. You’re important and so is everyone else."

Talitha went under general anesthesia once she entered surgery, remembering nothing until she awoke, no longer on the operating table but instead inside a closed bed with white walls and a clear panel overhead. She was surrounded by warm light and within the glow she felt no pain at all. The light made the white shift they'd dressed her in glow like her Harvest costume—and the garb looked much like the one she'd worn in salugalu when she was drawn to El Akalut.

Her mind was dream-like and it was difficult to form thoughts beyond how bright the light was. She understood countless terrible events had passed but couldn't focus on any of them. Talitha's limbs felt weightless and she could fly if she wanted to—she was sure of that. Blinking slow, she reached her hand up to touch the clear cover over the bed and found that it lifted automatically when she applied pressure.

She shifted her body to sit, holding onto the sides of the bed to lift herself up. Her eyes scanned the space—the bed was elevated and the room was compact for private use, with the walls around her lined in display panels monitoring her vitals. A compartment in the back created another smaller partition, a restroom for her use.

Beeping noises increased in pace as she moved and she frowned, turning her head and feeling tightness around her throat. Her fingers grazed textured fabric and she spotted bruises striped about her body. Slowly…slowly…she remembered why she was there.

The door to the room slid open and she heard a rustle of movement. Another medical assistant in uniform like the ones that worked for Dr. Yonson approached the bed and smiled.

"Good morning," he said. "Take it easy. You've been out for a while but you're recovering steadily." He passed her the small tablet to communicate and moved to the displays, resting a boxed kit on the stand beside him. "How are you feeling?"

-Unsure.

"That's okay. You're on sedation therapy to help you with your pain, so you'll feel out of sorts during your recovery. The bright side is you'll be all right. Your throat's mending nicely considering the extent of the damage, better than we had anticipated, and so is the rest of your body.”

-How long?

"How long?" He glanced behind his shoulder as he worked on the panel. "How long you've been out? It's…your sixth day in therapy at zero hour. Zero’s a couple hours from now. Today’s the first day we left you in the bed without constant care."

Six days—the beeping spiked as Talitha gripped tighter to the side of the bed. Six days. The last she'd seen of the captain who'd saved her and Adam from certain death was when they had separated at the temple. She remembered it all in that instant—and every single memory flooded back to her.

"Hey—hold on!"

The assistant returned to Talitha's side as she heaved, her breath short as if she'd been running for a long time. She stared at the assistant, gasping, hands shaking, and as she tried to shove her way out of the bed he promptly removed a small device from the kit on the table, pricking her arm with a needle. He spoke to her gently.

"Relax, Miss Morai. Take it easy. Nobody here will hurt you. You’re safe."

She grabbed the panel and swiped across the communication board with speed.

-Captain.

"Captain." The young man lowered his head for a moment. "You mean President Pendergast. He…hasn't returned yet from the mission."

-What?

"We're still confirming his last actions. His COM's not functioning, so we're searching for him. Westmont suffered heavy damage from repeated detonations, remaining toxic from the ether clouds. Union has the area on tight lockdown. Everyone’s forced to move slow. We’re doing everything we possibly can to gain access."

Talitha lowered her head as well, remembering the stern man with a clear blue gaze like Adam's. She thought of Adam too. She thought of many things, of many people.

"Hopes are high. Don't be concerned. The captain finds a way out of every situation. It’s why he’s the hero he is—why we think so highly of him here at Silatem. I'm sure he's on his way back now and just can't reach us yet."

The injection took slow effect and Talitha returned to dreamlike sensations. Her eyes glazed and the assistant eased her back into the bed, removing the panel from her loosening grip. She stared at the ceiling as he inspected her once more.

"Things will get better. Give it time—take it easy. You’re in the best hands in all of Ipir. You’ll be able to receive visitors now since you're awakening on your own—and maybe seeing familiar faces will help your troubles."

She slept again—for a while, didn't know how long. The pitch black behind her lids formed images that trapped her back in the temple, struggling under Spencer's weight with sharp teeth sunk into her without release, her choking gasps begging for death. Let it be over, the pain. Jackal's cold, pitless gaze, a void from somewhere far away, bored into her, assessing her with violent and animal lust even when he was long gone. She'd seen it herself—Elias cut the monster’s head clean off and gouged out what was left of Jackal’s heart from his chest with the pick on his ax, flinging the gore aside in a frenzy. Jackal, the wildland leader of the band called Blood Fang—or rather, Akil, her father, the most notorious native criminal in humanity’s history on Ipir—was finally dead.

Her eyes drifted open sometime later and she was bathed in warm light once more. Stirring, she raised the lid of the bed and paused, allowing consciousness to return before she rose. Eyes shut tight, she rested her elbow on the side of the bed and lay a palm against her forehead, listening to the steady beep in the room. That was her heart-rate, she now knew, and the sound was comforting. Meant she was alive…somehow and in some way. She peeled her lids open, peering at the compact recovery room, and a mass in the corner of the room jolted her to attention. Somebody was there.

She focused on the figure and spotted corkscrew blonde curls bouncing about, a sight that made her catch her breath and shove herself backwards in the bed. Another girl, one with a splinted nose and bruised black eyes, moved toward Talitha and stopped a pace away. The girl held a bouquet of flowers, and the spray of bright colors from the arrangement contrasted with the white of the minimalist room. Talitha's lips moved to form a name though no sound came out.

Gracie.

"Hey, Li."

Talitha's eyes darted to the small table where the assistant had stood before and spotted the small panel she used to communicate. Gracie made no move to hand it to her.

"You made it out. Look at you."

Her gaze rolled back to Gracie. She shifted back further, her back striking the limit of the bed as the blonde approached.

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"You've got some injuries, don't you?" A steady smile remained on Gracie's face as a gray-green gaze studied her close. "They look bad. Someone really fucked you up. Amazing you survived all that—taken hostage by the big guy himself. Really amazing. He must have thought you were something special, making a whole company come out to rescue just you. You should be dead but yet…here you are. Still kicking. Lucky you.” Gracie sighed, lingering over the bandage around Talitha’s throat. “What an awful night for everyone, mate. All of Union’s going absolutely insane over what happened. You probably haven't seen any feeds since you’re caged in here but…it's a riot out there. Literally. People are fighting each other on the street over it, coming to blows and blood over a huge attack in Union, and CDPD’s got their hands full keeping order. They need a lot of help maintaining the line between savages and the rest of us."

She spotted Talitha's attention dart to the flowers and back to her again with mouth pursed tight. A small laugh escaped Gracie and she nodded, gesturing at the bouquet.

"Yeah. They're for you. Hard to believe, right? That I’d ever waste a coin on you. I stopped by to visit Adam first and then asked if you were around, so I could talk to you before they cut off visitor hours. Sort out everything that went on between us—that whole blowup we had. Remember that? It was so corked, how it started and how things ended that night. I told Silatem we were good friends and you’d just die if you saw me, so that they’d give me a break even though you were sleeping. Really wanted to have a moment you, starlight."

Talitha's lips moved, an involuntary spark of fear piercing her at the mention of Adam in Gracie's presence—and that Gracie had already spoken to Adam. After what happened in Westmont—after the feverish moment of intensity she'd shared with Adam when he’d found her, the pair of them overwhelmed with both relief and fear. The comfort she’d felt in their kiss, the closeness and familiarity despite her strong tie to Kalum—she wasn’t sure of where anything with anyone stood, or where she even stood with herself. Though she made no sound, Gracie understood they were on the same page.

"Adam. Right. That guy. Now he’s on your mind—finally. Glad I could shake up the thought of him for you.” Gracie snorted, tossing her curls. “We talked, me and him, for…a while. A long time. I don't think you saw what happened to him on that stage with Jackal, since you were off doing something more important somewhere, probably. Maybe getting special treatment from the rebels because you’re such a precious little animal princess. Jackal was a second away from chopping Adam’s head off but I found a way to distract that savage when it mattered, throwing off his whole fucked plan. I got on that stage and pushed Adam to save his life—and managed to help those other hostages too by doing that. I acted when it looked like it was impossible. I saved Adam. No one else can ever say that or be that special to him. Definitely not you." Gracie clutched the flowers a bit tighter. "Aye?"

Talitha stared. Gracie continued.

"You can't talk, I heard. Can't make a sound because Spence left you with a permanent love bite. So sad, Li. So, so sad. My heart’s breaking for you and your poor little red head. Another hard luck story everyone can drown you with sympathy for, maybe toss you a few big donations to jumpstart a new refugee campaign after this mess.” She shook her head when Talitha looked over at the panel again. “You want that, right? Well...no. I'd love give you that panel to communicate but…I think it's better if you listen first without distractions. That way you can really understand what I mean."

Gracie's smile remained, the purple-black rings around her eyes flourescent in the white light of the room. Talitha turned her head, this time glancing at the door behind them.

"Don't run. I can tell you want to run when we're just reconnecting. Finding common ground after a tragedy and all that. How else are things ever going to change between us? You have to stay. This is our moment.” Gracie sucked her teeth. “We've been sour to each other for so long, mate. Even Fatima said nice things about you when I visited her—so sweet how she changed her fucking colors for you. So cute. Fucking traitor. She makes me so fucking sick sometimes. I don’t know why I stand having her around."

Talitha mouthed the girl's name again—Gracie. So much to say to Gracie’s derailing monologue and she couldn’t vocalize any of it. She needed that panel but Gracie made it clear that she wasn't going to get the panel.

"I'm having nightmares…constantly.” Gracie touched her forehead and grimaced as if she felt pain. “I think the Purple made things worse. PHS put me on sedation therapy for it when they found it in my system even though there's clearly nothing wrong with me. I'm not a fucking disgusting bloodsucker or a dirty refugee. My family's remained 98.7% human since the start of the colony and that's because we stay away from mix-bloods. We don't nest with natives. Thank fucking God. Right? At least that’s why I’m still fucking normal and won’t become…you." Gracie sniffed the blossoms in her grip. "I know you don't have that luxury. You were born what you are. I realize you can't help it so it's actually not your fault. Your mother was a filthy native whore who fucked a bloodsucking criminal and got seeded despite the odds. You really are just…a victim in all this."

Gracie's sharp kindness unsettled Talitha. It was the calmest encounter she'd ever had with Gracie, which wasn’t saying much. Not friendly in a good way, like Fatima's unexpected embrace, but in a way that felt dangerous, as if Gracie wasn't pleased to be speaking to Talitha despite the smile.

"I saved Adam's life and he told me—can you believe this? He told me he'd love me for the rest of his life for doing what I did and that we’re tied together in an unbreakable way. We can stay friends forever if I want, and no one could ever replace me. But…he has to cut the other strings we made. Whatever the fuck that means. Strings. Sounds stupid. Strings? We’ve got more than a fucking ribbon between us." Gracie scoffed. "Pushing me out now, of all times. Does he think I did all that just to be his fucking friend while he runs off on some other romantic adventure? What a piece of shit, like always. A user, and he'll never change. Oh, and get this—you're going to really enjoy this part, because it's about you. You like when everything's about you, don’t you?"

Talitha darkened. Enough of the rants—she was getting quite bored. Gracie's visit held another motive aside from delivering a bouquet, a nastier one Talitha had no interest in entertaining.

She placed her hand on the side panel to slide the compartment open and allow her access to exit. Gracie's hand slammed down on the side of the bed before Talitha could move.

"No," said Gracie, standing in Talitha's path. "Don't leave yet. No calling for help. I'm not finished. I’ve got more to say."

Talitha reached forward to push Gracie aside and Gracie recoiled as if she’d been struck, snapping when Talitha’s fingers grazed her arm.

"Don't fucking touch me," she hissed. "You've got some disease and you're sick—in your body and in your head. I'm not fucking fooled like everyone else seems to be. You’re more disgusting than ever, you piece of slum trash."

The beeps monitoring Talitha's heart-rate elevated in frequency. She stayed still, staring at Gracie.

"So," continued Gracie, smiling. "In that long talk with Adam he told me I was right about what I said in the bishop’s office. That he's got a thing for you, some true, deep feelings he’s been holding back on all this time because you were with Spencer. Not only did he admit that to himself—he also said the two of you had a cute little moment when you reunited. A kiss. So perfect. Mutual connection and profound appreciation in a moment of ultimate distress. Sounds like it’d come right out of some stupid story. He used the word 'love' about you too, which is a fucking joke coming from him.” She chortled. “Love. Please. What a load of shit. He loves nothing and never will, not even you. He doesn’t even know what that word means and it’s a waste of his energy. Not like you’d say it back anyway even if you could, you selfish bitch."

Talitha scowled, moving again to swing her legs off of the bed. Gracie rushed close and placed a hand on her shoulder, using force to push her back.

"No," Gracie breathed. "You're poison, Li, down to your core. I always knew it. Now I have the evidence in front of me. I was right all along—that's a parasite bite on your neck but you're still walking. You didn’t fall apart like our classmates did because something's wrong with you. Really fucking wrong. You’re one of them and it’s only a matter of time before you make the full change. I'm not going to let you sweet-talk your way back into society. I won't let you destroy Adam."

Talitha shoved Gracie. Gracie shoved her back. Hard. Alarm spiked as Talitha realized the aggression was real and escalating out of control, just as it had during their fight in the temple. Gracie reached into the bouquet, pulling out a pointed tool, and Talitha's eyes widened at the sight. Her breath seized. She raised an arm to block Gracie’s advance.

"I can't sneak a gun in here," said Gracie, sneering. "Security's too tight. But this stake’s made of wood so it doesn't trigger sensors. Thing’s just a stupid joke buy from Enzo’s but you see it’s sharp enough to work like the real thing. Supposed to be for undead and I bet it'd end you just as quick, whatever the fuck you are. I wouldn't even get penalized for terminating you. I’ll say you attacked me first, and I brought this in because I was so scared even though I cared about you. Turned out I was right. Might even win a fucking trophy."

Gracie shoved Talitha again and heaved the stake towards her chest, growling when Talitha grabbed hold of her arm. Talitha struggled to keep the point away and a feverish moment passed as they battled, frantic in their efforts to overpower the other. Talitha's teeth grit tight and she remembered, fast, that Gracie was both taller and much stronger.

The point of the stake nicked her with force, grazing the scar Saiha had inflicted on her. A silent grunt emanated from Talitha as she understood the psycho would kill her right there in Silatem’s medical unit if she slackened a touch. The memory of Jackal’s woman slicing her and tearing her costume, baring her before Jackal so he could sample her blood, flashed in her mind. Gracie's red face and splinted nose twisted in quiet rage as they fought, until the same snap of rage flooded Talitha as it had when she broke Gracie’s nose.

Gracie's sneer shifted to horror as Talitha twisted Gracie’s arm with new and sudden force. A strangled cry escaped the blonde when Talitha's pressure increased, until the stake dropped out of Gracie's hand and clattered to the floor. Gracie gasped when Talitha's other hand snapped forward to squeeze her throat, choking her as Talitha rose and shifted to a kneel on the bed.

Gray-green eyes dilated as Talitha cut off Gracie's airflow, lifting the senior off the ground with a surge of searing, unknown strength. Despite herself Talitha’s lips moved rapidly to form a hissing tongue without making a sound. A chill raced down to her core as she fought Gracie’s thrashing and her body turned as cold as ether. Her heartbeat…slowed. Once every two seconds. Once every three. Four. Then—

The door to the recovery room zipped open when the monitors tracking her heart rate beeped warnings that she was dying. An assistant hurried inside and cursed, immediately banging his palm against an emergency panel on the wall to blare an alarm within the wing. The assistant rushed to the pair and grabbed Talitha's arms, trying to wrench them away.

"Talitha, let go! Let her go! Don’t do that!"

Talitha's head whipped in the assistant's direction and he faltered, stumbling back as she turned her hissing on him instead.

"Oh," he uttered. “No…! Rabid—already? What’s wrong with you…?”

More assistants along with Dr. Yonson rushed inside and filled the room. Yonson swiftly injected Talitha with another needle, holding it in as Talitha continued choking Gracie. Mr. Noor arrived a moment later, pushing his way inside to survey the scene with his firearm in grip. He aimed at her and the sight of the kind navigator—of the dismay on Mr. Noor’s face—shocked Talitha out of her trance. She released her hold, dropping the now-limp Gracie to the ground, and settled on her haunches with her head bowed, covering her head with her arms before he was forced to fire.

The assistants carried Gracie out, swiftly removing the blonde from her line of sight. The new injection acted much faster than the other and her gaze passed over the armed men watching her, as well as over a silent Dr. Yonson and Mr. Noor. She curled up on her side and turned away, hugging herself on the bed, and closed her eyes as she entered a different kind of sleep. Noor said something she couldn’t hear to Yonson with urgency as the doctor closed the lid of the therapy bed.

At some point Talitha awoke as the lid to the bed lifted. Someone was there, standing over her, and a hand lowered to caress her cheek—a sensation that alerted her to his presence, a feather light touch from a gentle soul.

"Li, I don't care what they think. I really don’t, or what they say about you. They don’t know you, not like I do. They don’t know you’re Li. There’s nothing wrong with you. I’ll defend you no matter what, always."

Adam—that was Adam's voice. Wonderful Adam—her oldest, truest friend in Altir, followed only by Kalum Khelot. From the moment they met he made her feel welcome, and normal. She belonged. He made her laugh all the time and sometimes she could make him laugh too, though he told her often she wasn't funny, which was probably true.

"I'm sorry,” he said. “About Grace. They told me you almost killed her but they found a weapon in the room, so I know she tried to hurt you first. I know how she is, and what state she was in after everything that happened in Westmont — and how I left her last. She must have lied somethig awful to get in here with you alone. You fought back and that’s the end of this story.” He looked aside, his tone glum. “I thought things were settled when she left me, she seemed so calm and accepting of everything I told her that I thought she took our parting well. Fooled myself into thinking she might have changed from all this. But…she didn’t. I made it worse by telling her about you. What happened was my fault, like always."

Talitha stirred, still in the haze of the tranquilizer as she looked up at Adam. His face and mouth were bruised, one eyelid hung lower than the other, and he looked swollen. Bandages wrapped around his hunched form, and Talitha found him as beautiful as he looked during the fundraiser. Stunning, even. He rested his hands on the side of the bed, and she spotted one of them fully contained within heavy bindings and splints. His face was downcast—and she could see trouble lining his features.

"Nine days with no sign of El,” he said. “Everyone's looking but no one knows where he’s gone. The contamination's so high in Westmont it's difficult to search, at least until a bulk of that ether’s been neutralized. That's where he’s got to be now and I don't know if he's okay in there. I feel…so bad about what I said. How I acted towards him. And now I might never be able to tell him that. If I’d know that this was how things would be, I’d...I’d do differently."

Talitha lay her hand over Adam's and looked deep into his clear gaze. Locks of fair hair fell over his patched face as he glanced down at her hand over his and then at her. Adam seemed both near and far, reminding Talitha in crushing ways of all that used to be fine.

"Li." His voice was quiet—hesitant—and he shut his eyes, rubbing his lids with weariness. "Mr. Noor said you’re carrying a dangerous parasite load, but that it’s not showing up correctly on their tests, just like the other Purple infections. Sometimes not at all, like nothing’s wrong with you. Like you could fool them that you’re completely clean of stuff you know you took. You should be rabid but for some reason you're not. At least not…always. You go back and forth.”

His fingers twitched under her touch.

“Once Silatem transfers you to Union they're going to stick you back into solitary for a long time, so it’s going to be like when you were a kid. Maybe worse than what you told me. After what happened here, Silatem has to keep you separated too, which means no more visitors. I threatened Mr. Noor with my share in the company and hell with the media so I could get access to see you, since El isn’t here and I’m next in line. I’ll burn it all down if they mess with me or if they hurt you."

Adam smoothed a loose strand of hair away from her face. Sadness washed over Talitha at his touch.

"We'll do something. You're here. You're still Li, my friend Li. I won't lose you—not after this and not after…what’s happened between us. I hope we’ll continue that, since I do feel that way about you. I have for…a long time. I’m sorry." Adam hesitated again before moving on. "I wish I wasn’t telling you like this, or that I dropped that on you at that moment. I wish we’d gotten those cones and seen that show. I would’ve been fine with you not winning any prizes for me. Don’t really need a stuffed koujon. I just wanted to be with you."

Talitha drew herself and faced Adam, reaching for him and drawing him close. His eyes closed as if her touch caused him anguish and silence fell between them, until her arms circled around him, and his hands lowered to her waist. They remained there, gazing at each other, until Talitha guided their faces together and Adam leaned forward to complete. In the quiet of the recovery room she kissed him, his lips gliding softly with hers.

They parted after a long, slow moment and Adam pressed his forehead to hers. His voice was low when he spoke.

"Li," he said. "Everything will get better. I promise. It’s a new day, for us. For everyone."

Talitha felt too much and didn't know what to do. How not to hurt him…or hurt Kalum. Or anyone else in her path. Maybe Gracie was right about her. She was poison.

The tranquilizer set Talitha back onto the bed and she eased away. Adam stood over her, unsure of what to do next, until Talitha pushed the partition open, patting the space beside her to let him share. He climbed inside, a tight fit for them both, but she didn't care. Not with him. Adam was always welcome.

They faced each other and he pulled her close, dotting his lips to hers, stroking the forming scars on her face and head. She touched his cheek, studying his features as if discovering him anew, though she knew him so well already.

A faint smile flashed on his face, beaming with genuine happiness. Talitha smiled too, nestling close. The feeling was mutual, love, even if it was wrong.

Her lids blinked slow, taking longer each time to reopen. When her eyes remained closed she heard Adam murmur something to her, that she was beautiful. She wished she could tell him the same—that he was beautiful too—but she couldn’t, so she pecked him sleepily instead. Warmth enveloped her as she drifted.

Talitha fell asleep at Adam’s side. That was the last time Adam saw her alive.

☼ ☼ ☼

Elias pounded back to the temple’s main floor via the service paths and with targeted focus was able to jostle the CDPD cruiser out of the debris using the vessel’s thrusters. He took to the air at max speed and maneuvered the craft around from safe distance, aiming the pulse cannons toward the City Hall courtyard with immediacy, firing all three cannons at once. The cannons bombarded the already deteriorating structure with blasts of plasma energy.

Destruction was immediate and the courtyard and landing pad exploded upon impact, collapsing into the lot underneath. As the vessel’s cannons recharged Elias watched flames billow, flickering dangerously close to the temple, though Elias was prepared for complete destruction of the Unifaith facility and everything inside. Elevated levels of depressurized ether were already doing the work of stifling the building heat.

During the second round of narrowly-aimed fire Elias broke through the landing lot, observing a rapid, massive escape of ether through the damage. He waited for another recharge before diving low into the landing lot, easing the cruiser through the rising smoke to angle in the direction of the nine tanks stored underground. Elias fired as soon as he was prepped and immediately reversed at high speed, tilting up to streak backwards into the sky.

He didn't make it far, as the resulting and almost instantaneous expulsion of hundreds of thousands of liters of frigid, concentrated ether froze the navigation system of the cruiser mid flight and overloaded the circuits, forcing him to crash land a kilometer away from the facility. Visions of himself freezing in his armor as Agost had warned pushed Elias to move fast, and he released himself from the pilot’s seat to escape.

The temperature dropped steadily as he made one last retrieval within the busted cruiser, grabbing an empty black polymer sack from storage that was meant to carry a hazardous item inside. This time, it would be used to contain the mangled head of a vicious rebel leader. Emotionless, Elias smashed the now-useless control panel for the cage with an armored fist and pulled the manual release lever, unlocking the frosting door to heave it open.

He paused to survey Jackal's destroyed head, gouged with holes from high caliber blasts and ripped to pieces by the powerful jaws of infected Ipirian wolves. Barely anything of the appendage was left, just enough for Elias to be sure it belonged to the same creature he'd hunted. The single, bloodied eye that had managed to remain despite all the devastating inflicted attacks had rolled backwards, so Elias couldn't see the warlord's dark, pitless pupils anymore.

He engaged another manual lever to release the vessel’s doors, grunting as he used force to pry open the frozen opening. As soon as there was enough clearance for his armor and weapons Elias jumped out, his boots striking the film of luminescent frost on the ground as he glanced up at the sky. The gray storm clouds from earlier were replaced by white gleaming clouds that reflected sunset light from above, and minuscule flurries of toxic ether struck his helmet, the twin Harvest moons high over Ipir and bathing him in silver light.

With the underground tunnel back to East Central obstructed to prevent both students from arriving and parasites from escaping, Elias was forced to find another way back to Capitol City. His armor warned of plummeting temperatures and his visor advised of a dangerous increase of an unstable element, urging him to get out as soon as possible. The eight-pointed explosion design detonated as he ran through the cold and empty streets of Westmont.

Elias glanced behind, spotting massive clouds filtering over and through Westmont and mixing with black smoke. The detonation closest to City Hall had spat more of the glowing frost into the sky, bursting it out in every direction for kilometers around like icy fireworks

Elias increased the heat levels of his armor and braced behind the cover of a nearby condemned building, torrential silver-colored winds threatening to topple him to the ground and bury him in blankets of white. He tapped into his armor’s reserves of energy and continued at a full charge once the brunt of the shockwave had settled. Kidish Pass lay another kilometer ahead and on the other side of it, better conditions for himself and his armor. All he had to do…was get there.

He ran through frost, both on the ground and circling around him, making his way toward the mountains as fast as he could run. In his grip he carried the black sack he’d bring back to Silatem HQ, the trophy that symbolized humanity's dark victory that Harvest—as well as his own long-awaited prize, a remembrance for John Pendergast's, his father's, honor.

Jackal's head was his—or rather, the head of B'al Akil, the abominable Master of Sinum.

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