Tabitha Chirrick - Overshadowed

“Should be celebrating that I’m going to die?” he asked darkly.

“Well, about that…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. She didn’t get it. He’d said more than he should have, and like so many other things he’d done, it amounted to nothing. “I came because I wanted to apologize. About that night in the labs.”

“I appreciate it, but…” She peered over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Someone’s here to see you,” she said.

“It can wait.”

“Can it, boy?” Dr. Savenus’ scratchy voice made Ruxbane tense.

No Exalted had ever taken step on the Floating Isle. They preferred to cower in their towers on Aloma. Of all the ones to come, it would be his physician, and as displeased as he was at the inevitable micromanagement that would come of this man’s arrival, a check-in with a doctor did seem in order.

“I should return to my work,” Jin said. “We can talk later.” She bowed her head to the Exalted and walked away.

Ruxbane sighed.

The doctor stood a full two heads taller him, but at least two heads thinner, too. Dr. Savenus’ stick-like frame hunched with age, his large, all-black eyes hardened by his sharp eye ridges.

“Up and about so soon?” Dr. Savenus asked. “I expected you to sleep a little longer than four hours. Imagine my surprise when Iselglith informed me you’d arrived at the labs.”

“I have work to do,” Ruxbane muttered.

“I’m sure it will wait. Come.”

Resigned, Ruxbane followed the man out of the medical wing and once again into the empty halls. The floor-to-ceiling windows provided him with distraction in the form of space-scape views. The inky, salt-sprayed abyss lingered beyond the edges of the Rokkir fortress, daunting in its endlessness. For all its glory, though, Dr. Savenus stared straight ahead.

Ruxbane eyed the man. Deep down, he knew exactly why Savenus was here. The night before, Ruxbane had gone off the edge. After losing Tayel and the hope of survival she provided, he’d locked himself in his room and drove himself into a fury. Truth was, he hadn’t slept four hours, he’d thrashed four hours. When his furniture was but torn fabric and shattered wood, he returned to the only thing that gave him purpose: work. But not before he’d sent a medical report on the situation to the doctor, as was his sworn promise. He hadn’t expected a reply so soon, or in person.

The Exalted stopped at a view of the Isle’s docks, which jutted out from the rest of the spherical structure. No vessels flew in or out. Even with the ability to travel via dark aether portals, the Rokkir still used space-faring ships. It was a testament to how few people they had left that the docks weren’t even lit anymore.

“Always stubborn, aren’t you?” Dr. Savenus asked. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’ve come?”

Ruxbane was in no mood to play games. He had work to do, and little time to do it. “You’re going to tell me whether I ask or not.”

The man scoffed. “I’m here about the girl.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t be coy. Exalted have full access to all Rokkir documents on our networks — even yours. After the reports from Modnik last night and your personal entry regarding another episode, I looked through your mission files.”

Ruxbane inhaled sharply. “I know I’m sworn solely to lead our people, but I had to try—”

“Don’t apologize. I support your efforts.”

Ruxbane bit his tongue.

“I only wish you would have told me about them sooner. I agree capturing this human girl is a priority — for your sake.”

“She’s dead.”

“Potentially.” Dr. Savenus dug a tablet out of his oversized coat pocket. “Here. One of the hundreds of images from the catastrophic crash you allowed.”

Ruxbane took it. An image of a Rokkir patrol ship fleeing the carrier was displayed.

“According to your reports,” the doctor said, “there were no indoctrinated or Rokkir onboard after the self-destruct was triggered. It therefore stands to reason that this could be your shot at a cure escaping the explosion.”

A strange sensation overcame Ruxbane — relief . He hadn’t even considered the possibility she could have made it out alive.

“Not everyone can know about your illness,” Dr. Savenus said. “Our people thinking their savior is plagued would throw everyone into a panic, but a small team can help with your subsidiary goals. I’ve informed the rest of the Exalted, your five critical sub-leaders — the ones acting as councilmembers on Elsha — and also Jin.”

Ruxbane gaped. “You told” — he winced thinking about Adonna’s cackling laugh — “you told my direct reports? You told Jin ?”

“She’s the front line’s master healer, and she can look after your worsening condition in my stead. The situation at home has required too much of my time to carry out the frequent visits you require.” When Ruxbane didn’t respond, Savenus said, “This is a positive thing, Ruxbane. You are valuable. You might have been a damned nuisance for half your life but now you’re a hero. The future of our race depends on you. If that human can help mend your suffering, then she is a target for all Rokkir.”

“If she lives.”

“If she lives,” the doctor agreed.

There was no arguing what was already finished. “Then what’s done is done.”

“About as good a thanks as I’ll get from you.” Dr. Savenus shook his head. “Since I’m here, I will be evaluating the state of the Isle. See me this evening. Iselglith can direct you to my temporary quarters, where we can introduce Jin to your illness in proper.”

“So be it.”

“Some medical attention will do you good, boy. According to your plan, the capture of so many Varg means you can now move on to the next phase, yes? I have seen the refugee numbers for planet Elsha. Truly impressive. We all look forward to your continued success.”

The Exalted didn’t wait for a response this time. His footsteps carried him to the end of the hall, around the corner, and out of sight. Alone, Ruxbane stared out over the unlit docks, contemplating whether he’d be able to see this war through to the end after all.

Kalanie Outpost had become a hub of bustling activity overnight. Land rovers arrived and departed in a constant loop from the garage, bringing in survivors or carting out supplies. Delta medical specialists who survived the shuttle crash worked with Varg healers to attend the wounded, the number of which became so staggering that a temporary med tent had been set up in the armory to alieve the pressure from the outpost’s tiny hospital.

There was constant motion, constant chatter, but also an air of something Tayel couldn’t quite place. The Varg — with their always stern faces — lost the edge in their scowls when they stopped working. They retreated to corners or stared forlornly out viewports. They gathered in groups to pray, or stared almost enviously at non-Varg refugees.

It was like the entire outpost was on the verge of crying. Hard work and rebuilding weren’t hopeful ambitions, but necessary realities in a world newly devoid of over two thirds the population. Whole families — friends, cousins, uncles, daughters — were lost to these people, and Tayel made herself sick wondering if she could have done anything about it.

She tore her eyes away from the Varg healer sitting outside a surgical curtain, and set her borrowed ledger atop a box of supplies.

Shy peered at her through a gap between crate stacks. “How’s it going?”

“Oh. Uh. I count ten blankets, ten pillows, three unassembled cots, a fast-pitch weather resistant tent, two tarps, and two flint and steel sets,” Tayel said.