Fire Page 4

  "What?" I asked.

  "It's gone to rot," he said. "Casey, bring me some water and the blue stone. I was wrong, the red stone will have to wait until this rot has been eliminated."

  "What do you mean, rot?" I wasn't quite sure what this could mean for Marshal. "Is it infected? I did notice that he was getting hotter. Infection causes fever, doesn't it?"

  "Gregorius, who...?" Jeremiah looked to the Second for answers.

  "I don't know," he said with his arms crossed, his right hand held helplessly in the air. "Mysteries can be solved later. Right now, we must save this man's life. My sister will be very angry if she finds out that we had one of our original ancestors right here and let him die."

  "Well, right now we need to let the blue stone do its work and shrink the rot," said Jeremiah as he took the water and dipped a sponge into it. He started to clean the area where the bullet had entered Marshal's back.

  "But," I started, not wanting to tell this healer how to do his job but he wasn't really instilling any confidence in me with the rocks and all the weird stuff on his shelves. "There's still a bullet lodged inside Marshal's back! Aren't you going to try to get it out?"

  "Bullet?" Jeremiah looked at me as if I spoke a foreign language.

  "Yeah," I said. "A bullet. I told you he was shot in the back. If you look at his front, you'll see that there is no exit wound, meaning the bullet is still inside somewhere. Shouldn't you try to get it out?"

  "What is this bullet made of?" asked Jeremiah and I looked at him with stunned disbelief.

  "You've got to be kidding," I said.

  "Well," he answered, "how am I supposed to asses whether it's worth the risk of retrieving this bullet unless I know what it's made of?"

  "It's a bullet! What do you think it's made of?" I raised my voice in frustration and searched the doctor for signs of comprehension. There were none; he really didn't know what I was talking about. I let out a heavy sigh. "Come on! There's a war going on out there; I've heard the gunfire. Surely, they loaded their guns with some kind of ammunition, you know, like bullets!?!"

  "You are right about the battle," said the old man. "However, their weaponry does not fire anything called a bullet," he explained. "They fire lasers and heat waves which cause far more damage than a little hole in a person's skin." I looked at him and then at Gregorius.

  "He's right, I'm afraid," the Second assured me. "We know nothing about 'bullets'."

  "Whatever," I shook my head, not wanting to argue about it. "A bullet is made of metal, lead I think. I don't know how big it is but you have to get it out of him. It can't stay inside his body." I tried to comprehend what guns that shot lasers and, what did he say, heat waves, would look like or what kind of damage they could do to a person. Probably not anything nice, I guessed.

  "Hmmm," Jeremiah muttered. He stood beside the examining table, arms crossed, pondering the situation. How could he possibly take the bullet out of Marshal's back if he didn't even know what a bullet was? I tried to stay calm and give him the benefit of the doubt and see what he planned to do.

  "Well?" I asked.

  "I'm thinking," Jeremiah said. "If I were to burrow inside this wound, I could be creating an opening for the rot to go deeper inside. On the other hand, if I don't remove this foreign object, it could actually prevent my healing from working."

  "So...?" I asked, urging him to make a decision.

  "I think I will burrow into the wound," he concluded. "I'm curious about this bullet and the power it must have to bury itself inside this man."

  "You want to get the bullet because you're curious?" I couldn't believe it. "How about because it will save his life?"

  "Of course, that's why he'll get it out," Gregorius sounded irritated that I was delaying everything with my observations and questions. "So, if you would just keep quiet for a moment, he can do his work."

  "Fine, not another word," I said. I made the motion of locking my mouth and throwing away the key.

  "I have no idea what you just did," said Gregorius with a confused look on his face. "But if it will shut you up, I approve. Now, let the man do his job."

  I watched as Jeremiah, with the help of Casey, took an instrument that looked very much like a corkscrew and placed it over the bullet hole. As Jeremiah called out calculations, Casey began turning the instrument. They worked fast and within five minutes had found the bullet and began pulling it out. I could hear a sucking noise as Casey pulled the corkscrew from Marshal's back, bullet firmly gripped in what looked like a claw. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that it looked completely intact; hopefully nothing had broken off and scattered inside Marshal's body.

  "Is this the bullet?" Jeremiah asked as he held up the metal to the light to get a better look at it. I nodded that it was. "Fascinating. Who knew such a tiny specimen could cause so much damage? It must hold some sort of poison to incapacitate a man so completely. Casey, put it in a safe place so I can examine it later." Casey took the bullet and pulled a glass jar off the shelf and, without cleaning it, dropped the bullet inside the jar, screwed on the lid and put it back on the shelf.

  "Yeah, well," I said, "thank you for getting it out. I think he'll be much better now."

  "Maybe. We still have to get rid of the rot." He turned to Casey. "Have you a bed ready?"

  "Yes, sir," she replied. "There's a room on sub level two that's been empty for a few days now. I'll call Joey to come with the portable and we'll take him down."

  "I'm going with you," Gregorius straightened his back and got ready to follow Casey. "I don't want to let this man out of my sight."

  "Me neither," I stated. I wasn't going to let this pompous ass take over Marshal's care. Marshal was my friend, my responsibility.

  As Casey left the room to get Joey, I watched Jeremiah wipe Marshal's back one more time and then take the blue stone and place it over the wound. He then pushed it a quarter of the way into the bullet hole and placed what looked like surgical tape over it. I looked up at the doctor and saw him staring back at me. His eyes were kind and I felt at ease.

  "I will do everything I can to save your friend," he said and I believed him. "Please, go with your friends, get something to eat and rest. Your worries and exhaustion have not gone unnoticed. I am sure Gregorius will be happy to take you to the kitchens."

  "I will not," Gregorius started. He had no intention of leaving Marshal with Jeremiah which, on the surface, looked like he had our best interests at heart but I didn't like Gregorius and I certainly didn't trust him. I found it a little disconcerting that, at this moment, I seemed to trust the healer more than he did.

  "I can always send word for Amelia to take our guests to the kitchen," he started and I could see Gregorius' posture change; his shoulders went down and he bowed his head. He knew he'd been defeated and, at that moment, Jeremiah held the upper hand.

  "Very well," he said raising his head and trying to regain his authority over everyone. "But I insist you keep me informed of everything you do to this man and that you alert me the second he wakes up."

  "I will," Jeremiah smiled and I decided that I liked the healer. He may not hold the highest position in this world but he knew how to work around it. He could be very useful to us when we tried go back for Max and Barker which, I hoped, would be soon.

  Chapter 4

  The Healing Centre, explained Gregorius on our way to the kitchens, was built about a hundred feet away from the Huxley House where the ruling family lived. The two buildings were connected by an enclosed walkway that went from the Healing Centre, through the Huxley grounds and to the bottom of the cement stairs that led to the Huxley's front door. Both were in the Court which also included four buildings that housed government officials and Huxley family members and a building used for big dinners and family celebrations. They all formed a circle with a shared courtyard in the middle. The entire Court was surrounded by a twenty foot wall made out of stone and recycled metal. There was one gate, on the north side. The wall was manned by l
ookouts and guards from the Huxley army.

  The 'kitchens' was just another name for cafeteria and, like all cafeterias, it was a big, open room with tables and chairs scattered around. There were windows looking out at the city below and I could see that the sky was grey. I wasn't sure if it was from the cold weather or from the battle that was being waged somewhere below. At the far end of the room was a long counter to slide your tray down as you picked out food from the containers on the other side. Two women stood behind the counter and would have been happy to serve us hot food had it been mealtime. I was quite happy with a premade sandwich and a glass of water which I put on my tray and went and sat down by myself. I was tired and needed a moment to collect my thoughts.

  I was just starting to eat my sandwich when I heard a commotion at the counter. I looked up and saw Gregorius yelling at the women behind the counter for the lack of food being offered. They were trying desperately to explain that it wasn't mealtime right now and that, if he wanted something hot, they would need a little time to make it. Everyone kept trying to tell him that a sandwich was fine but he kept insisting the women cook something. What an ass, I thought and took another bite of my sandwich.

  "As you can see the top floor offers the only windows in the building," said Gregorius, continuing his role as tour guide as everyone made their way over to where I was sitting. They had finally convinced him that they didn't need a hot meal. "It gives a fantastic view of the city, if the city was still worth looking at."

  "Yes," Robert saw his chance to ask about the turmoil outside. "Forgive us for our ignorance, but what exactly is happening out there?"

  "It's an uprising," he informed us and then added in his sarcastic tone. "There are many people who don't like the idea of a single ruler no matter how just that ruler is. My family's position has always been envied and, therefore, always challenged."

  "So, these uprisings are normal here?" I asked.

  "Mostly it's people protesting something they don't like. There's not enough food, the water is too polluted to drink, the sun has burned the crops again-things that are impossible to fix. People are too lazy to help themselves so they blame whoever is in power with their useless protests and unreasonable demands," he said with hatred in his voice. "They come here and raise their fists and make a lot of noise until the First comes out and makes promises that can never be kept, pats them on their backs and sends them back home."

  "Are they from the city?" asked Cornelius.

  "No, not all of them," said Gregorius.

  "They always come here to protest, though?" asked Robert.

  "Algar is the capital," he explained. "It's only natural that the people with grievances would take their fight here."

  "This started as a protest? It seems so devastating," I said as I pushed myself up higher in my chair to look out the window and see the city. "I mean the streets look like they've been pretty messed up."

  "It's not all from this battle but I am sorry to say that this particular uprising has been one of the worst," he said. "They've actually convinced some of our army to join them this time and with them came weapons and skill. They're actually putting on a good show for once."

  "What were they protesting?" asked Robert and Gregorius glared at him. It was obvious that he didn't like the question.

  "I've no idea," he stated but his eyes looked away and I knew he was lying. "Who knows why the lessers do anything."

  "The lessers?" I asked, pretty sure I knew what he meant.

  "I guess I shouldn't call them that but it's the best way to describe them. We, the Huxleys have everything, they have less. Lessers. See? It's a perfect name," he smiled.

  "I bet they don't like being called that," I said. "Besides, there're probably more of them than Huxleys."

  "It is true that their numbers are on the rise," Gregorius admitted reluctantly. "My sister will probably do something about that."

  "What will she do?" asked Emma Lee.

  "Deny them birth," he said. We all looked at him with blank expressions.

  "'Deny them birth?'" I asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

  "Exactly what it sounds like," he smiled. "Amelia could easily add a certain powder to the water that would prohibit the lessers from producing children. If she did this, their population growth would stop, at least for a few years and she'd be able to control them better. That decision, however, remains solely with her and I don't think she's become that desperate. Still, though, you can never trust a lesser. The uprising proves that."

  "But they're just people," I said.

  "I know they're just people," he shook his head and took a drink from his glass. "But if they're left unchecked, they'll just keep having more and more offspring with no way to sustain them. Then they'll come, crawling on their hands and knees and begging to be sustained. They'll suck every resource dry with their demands for food and water. They've taken more than we have and something has to be done."

  "Sounds like you want to lead your own uprising," Colonel Al pointed out.

  "Maybe," he answered absently as his attention was diverted by something over by the women at the food counter. He got up without saying anything and walked over to them.

  "That was nice," I said sarcastically. "Just get up and leave with no explanation."

  "He is a unique person," observed Cornelius.

  "Unique?" stated Emma Lee. "He's a total ass!" We all looked at the quiet woman as if she had slapped us all in the face. Emma Lee never swore.

  "Whoa," I laughed. "Look at you swear! Perfect word for him, though, ass. I like it!"

  "Well, he is," she said angrily. "Denying birth. What kind of man does that? He has no idea how devastating that would be to a woman."

  "Darling," Cornelius reached out and took her hand, trying to calm her. "I agree, he is a vile creature but we must keep our opinions to ourselves if we are to survive here. Getting a member of the ruling family angry at us would not help anything."

  "I know," she looked up at Cornelius and smiled. "I'm sorry for my outburst."

  "We don't just want to survive here," I said, worried that everyone had forgotten our real goal. "We want to go back, right? We have to find a way back through the portal and get Max and Barker, right? You haven't forgotten about them have you?" Before anyone could answer, Gregorius had returned to our table.

  "I have arranged for Martha to take you to your room when you're finished your meal," he said.

  "I thought you wanted us to meet your sister," said Robert.

  "I do," said Gregorius. "But not until the fire warrior wakes."

  "His name is Marshal," I preferred that Gregorius called my friend by his name.

  "Yes, yes that's what I meant," Gregorius said. "I want this Marshal person to be alive when I introduce him to Amelia and I'm not sure he will be if Jeremiah can't perform his healing properly. As much as I would love to stay and absorb myself in mindless conversation with all of you, I'm afraid I must go. Something has come up and I need to take care of it."

  "Something to do with the uprising?" asked Colonel Al.

  "I have no intention of explaining my movements to people I know nothing about," Gregorius sounded insulted by the colonel's question.

  "Fair play," said Colonel Al.

  "We could wait here," I suggested, thinking that if Gregorius was gone, I could sneak away to check on Marshal.

  "I suppose I could let you wait here," he said and I felt hopeful. "However, the fact that you have denied knowing Faelen and claim to not know anything about Algar or the Huxley family or even who the Fire People are, makes me doubt your intentions for being here."

  "Is that so?" I started but was quickly interrupted by Cornelius.

  "If it's loyalty you're after," said Cornelius, "then I must tell you that we have no interest in picking sides. We are neutral in this battle."

  "For now," Gregorius contemplated what Cornelius had just said. "But soon you'll have to choose."

  "Maybe," Colonel Al said and I sil
ently swore to myself. We had no business joining this fight. Our only priority was getting Marshal fixed and going back to help Max.

  "Nevertheless, I can't leave you unattended," Gregorius said. "Like I said, Martha will take you to your room after you've finished your meal. I think you'll find it quite comfortable. It's spacious, with beds for you to sleep."

  "Sleep?" questioned Colonel Al.

  "Yes, you'll be spending the night here," he said and we looked at each other a little anxiously. "Maybe even more than one night. I'll decide the duration of your stay based on a couple of things."

  "Which are?" I asked.

  "The recovery of your friend, for one," he answered. "I know my sister will want to question him and she can't do that if he's unconscious."

  "And..?" I asked.

  "And...what?" he asked.

  "You said there were a couple of things you had to take care of," I said. "Marshal's one, what's the other?"

  "That, my dear," I hated the way he called me dear, "is none of your business."

  "Sorry," I exclaimed a little too aggressively.

  "Humph," he grunted. "Very well, I must be on my way. I've instructed the staff to lock your room until I get back. You'll have everything you need in the room and your meals will be brought to you by the ladies in the kitchens."

  "What the hell?" I said. "Why can't we leave the room?"

  "Because," Gregorius leaned down and looked me straight in the eyes. If he was trying to intimidate me it wasn't going to work...and then his voice took on a creepy whispery tone. "I don't trust you. So, you will stay in your room like good little visitors until I decide otherwise, understood?" Okay, he intimidated me a little but my anger could overcome that.

  "Who the hell...?" I started, ready to give him a very big piece of my mind.

  "We'll stay in the room," said Robert before I could continue. I shot him a death glare but he ignored me. Gregorius continued to try and stare me down. "You have my word." Robert assured him.

  "Very well," Gregorius turned to Robert and nodded his head in acknowledgement of his acceptance of the rules. He looked back at me and smirked at this tiny victory. "I can't wait to see you all again." Then he turned and walked out of the kitchens without any further glances. I pushed my sandwich away and sat back in my chair, folding my arms in front of my chest and scowling. Everyone left me alone.