Esperanza

Once she’d looked her fill, she gave a firm nod and closed her eyes. Someone passed her a piece of fabric, the gurney sheet that would be his shroud if he died on the table.They wouldn’t let her build them directly into his skin, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t build them better, build them warm.

It was what made them family -- that alien steel, colder than ice but always warming to the touch. She cast the ports in titanium, wisps of metal blossoming from her hands as her powers devoured the fabric sheet. Dark silver from every angle, a color that never suited them, but would make the scientists nod at its utilitarian make. But the inside was a toxic breath of transmode, gold and pulsing at her touch, wrapping itself in that earthly cloak of titanium.

It was all she could do -- plant a seed within the torment, that someday she could pull the foreign metal from his skin and knit him back together.

Someone came and unlocked the shackles from her wrists and ankles and Andrews held the file out for her. 

Silver Leaf Langurs by Bob Worthington Photography

Getting to his feet, Andrews made his way towards Leeland and stepped around the pool of blood seeping across the floor. “And once in the machine, we’re hoping it’ll keep him alive. He’ll power the machine, the machine will power him.” And then he smiled at Leeland, who flinched and turned his head away again. 

It would save his life -- so they said, at least, and she certainly had her doubts about that, but at this point no other options had appeared. She promised him he’d make it out. Kicking or screaming.

She wasn’t supposed to be the one to make him scream.

“Chi-Chee…” she rasped as the world came rushing back. “What’s…where am…” She clenched her fists, and as the tendons of her wrists flexed against the metal shackles, she understood.

Leeland’s shoulders slumped from where he’d been holding them in a stiff position. She was awake. Just out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Andrews and had to clench his teeth together as not to move or make a sound. 

When she was younger, a test subject for the first time, they told her she was Midas. Everything she touched turned to cold, cold gold. But now she knew better. No one ever feared gold, but envied it, tried to cage it and carve it out of still-living veins. Did Midas curse himself, or did those dull-eyed scientists of his own time curse him instead, curse his name in rage when he died before they could mine his body for riches.

[ esperanzaling ]

“The body’s rejecting the old ports.”  - - -

The worst thing about it all, was that he was conscious. It would have been a relief to have passed out, but the drugs were keeping him wide awake. There was, however, an added bonus that parts of him were blessedly numb. 

He was strapped to an upright operating table, arms locked in front of him with his head turned to the side. Next to him, they had placed Esperanza on a bed with her feet and hands shackled. She was still unconscious, and Leeland half hoped she wouldn’t wake up. 

technarchology:

“–Dee,” he croaked, voice sounding strange. His eyes veered over erratically, crest twitching. It wasn’t Warlock’s voice. “Dee, I need you to tell Chi-Chee to trust me. He doesn’t trust Warlock. He’s–he’s Phalanx, I can, I need—”

Warlock’s spine rolled and cracked like popped joints, and he wiped his hands over his face, letting them rest over his mouth. If they hadn’t known better, it would’ve looked like he was about to hurl. He looked over at his family quietly, at Doug and Dee-Ell and Chi-Chee, and closed his eyes. Stopped fighting. Gave permission.

“–please Dee, please, I want to help–you’re my family too–”

[ landlocke ]

Dee-Ell let go of Chi-Chee and Doug’s hands and stared as Warlock wrestled with himself. Wrestled with Douglock.

“Douglock? Douglock!” He strode over to him, all of three steps and pulled him into a fierce hug. “I trust you.” He said. “We’re family, I trust you.” Still holding him, he turned to look at Chi-Chee sharply but there wasn’t any anger in his face just a small defiance. 

“You can trust him. Ok? He’ll help get Esperanza back, trust me.” 

[ technarchology ]

Chi-Chee looked back at Dee-Ell and the Prince with obvious suspicion. The Prince was speaking in yet another voice, but it was still him, wasn’t it? The one who’d left them? Left her?

But then Doug squeezed his hand and urged him on, and Dee-Ell was still staring at him with such hope and defiance all at once, and....