Collective Ekoes / Chapter 06 (Text)

Abel was spilled out over the table, the bandages over his abdomen soaked red. Cass retracted her gloves, took the left side of his face in one hand, and patted his cheek with the other. His skin was cold.

“Abel, I’m here,” she said. “Stay with me.”

His eyes fluttered open but swam in their sockets, unfocused.

“Abel,” she repeated, patting his cheek again. “Abel.”

He finally caught back up with reality, noticed her face leaning over his, and his lips spread in a weak smile.

“Oh, hey Cassie,” he slurred.

“Hang in there, brother,” Cass said. “You’ll be okay.”

Hang in there? For what? She heard the desperate futility in her words, but at this point, she didn’t have anything to offer but platitudes. There was no help coming. He was about to die. Nothing could change that now.

She steeled herself, clenched her belly as if she could physically harden her resolve against Abel’s death affecting her. She’d seen teammates die. Thought she’d grown inured to it. But none of them had been family.

He was going to die.

Even thinking it felt like betrayal. Like she was abandoning her faith.

Mama and Father were about to lose both of their children today. Ackles would be out for blood. Even if she surrendered, he might not accept. Executing a traitor would go a long way in boosting his career.

She clutched Abel’s head tighter, as though she could hold her brother’s life in. There had to be another way. Something she hadn’t considered. Something that could cheat the inevitable.

And there was. She knew there was. But it was inconceivable.

But he’ll survive, the nagging voice said.

Abel tensed and let out a squalid moan, quiet and feeble, as though he couldn’t muster the energy to feel pain anymore.

Cass leaned over him. “I’m sorry, Abe,” she whispered. Was this how it ended? Here on an eko camp table? “I don’t know what to do.”

She hadn’t trained for this. Strazhi conditioning hadn’t prepared her to deal with a loved-one dying in her arms. She wished someone was there to help. Mama. Father. Anyone.

“Cassie,” he wheezed, holding her gaze. “Please. It hurts.”

“I know,” she said, stroking his hair. Tears welled in her eyes. “Shhhh, now. It'll be alright.”

He shuddered, then convulsed. His teeth clacked as his jaw clenched shut.

Cass held him close as he moaned, then, suddenly hyper-lucid, his eyes on fire, he reached up and caught the back of Cass’ head in an iron grip.

"Don't you let me die,” he seethed through his teeth.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. There was nothing she could do, but she had to do something.

“How did you let this happen?” Abel demanded, his insistent belligerence taking her right back to their childhood. Turning her into a little girl again.

“Try and rest,” Cass said, lips quivering. The only thing worse than watching Abel die would be him seeing her cry. “It’ll be over soon.” 

“This is what you always wanted.” He coughed and blood splattered from his lips. “Finally, I’ll be out of the way, and you can have all the attention.”

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, trying to keep her feelings from bubbling out of their cage. The inferiority. The shame. The fear she wasn’t good enough. Emotions she’d battled for years. 

There had to be something she could do to stop this. Something short of strapping him into a brain-scanning device and yanking his mind from his dying body. She would never choose that for herself, but if it meant Abel wouldn’t die…

What else? What else could she do?

“Abel,” she said, not sure where she was going. “What about—” it was all she could do to get the words out “—the extractors.”

Abel’s face remained slack for a second, then came alive with fright. He shook his head. “No.”

No. Of course. She couldn’t. She’d never be able to face Father again. And how would she live with herself?

But…

“But you’ll survive,” she said, a certainty in her voice she didn’t feel. She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince. She didn’t want to do it, and she knew Abel didn’t, but the only alternative was death. And neither of them wanted that. “Isn’t that what’s important? You won't die.”

His body shook. Whether from pain or fear she couldn’t tell. His face was livid. “Promise me,” he pleaded.

Her head was a riot, her usual mental clarity swamped by panic and desperation, weighing everything she’d ever learned, everything she’d been taught about the dangers of conversion—against the life of her brother.

And when she looked at it that way, the decision was simple. A switch flipped in her head.

There could only be one answer. She refused to let him die.

She’d deal with the consequences after.

 “Promise you won’t,” he repeated, then collapsed back on the table, his remaining strength gone. His eyes rolled back into his head as he lost consciousness.

“Don't worry,” she said as she re-armored her hands and slipped one under his back and the other under his knees. She lifted and he slumped in her arms like a training dummy, nearly weightless. “I promise.”

Abel’s eyes closed as she carried him back to the ship, walking slow across the clearing. She stopped and held him up and out toward the hatch, like an offering.

“I can’t let him die,” she said as everything she’d ever held true drained out of her. “Please, I need your help.”

The ship didn’t immediately respond, and the wait stretched into an eternity. Time Abel didn’t have.

Then the white circle winked onto the display panel. “You’re sure?” it asked. “That’s one heck of a one-eighty. Five minutes ago, you were dead set against it.”

The confusion that tore through her only moments ago had crystallized into brilliant clarity. It was a question of life or death. A question of survival. And this meant survival.

"He’s my brother,” she said.

“Fair enough,” the ship replied. "But I need his consent. We don't go around taking people's minds without their permission."

"He said it's what he wanted," Cass lied.

He'd thank her, she tried to assure herself. Afterwards, when he was still alive. He'd see this was the only choice.

"I really should hear it from him," Vel insisted. It raised her volume. "Abel, hun, is this really what you want?"

Abel didn't respond. He couldn't.

"Please," Cass hissed.

A long second passed, then the hatch slid open. “Bring him in.”

Cass didn’t wait for the gantry to lower and flew them up into the ship. There wasn’t much to it. No airlock, only two small decks—the first mainly storage, with a basic lavatory and seating for three. Ladders on either side lead to the cramped upper deck.

"Put him over there,” the ship said. Lights on one of the seats flashed and Cass noticed a difference between it and the others. The headrest was larger, with a helmet-like attachment hanging over it.

Abel’s chest was barely rising and falling as she set him in the chair, arranged his arms on the armrests, and set his head straight.

“Last chance to change your mind,” the ship said. "Before we change his."

Cass’ mind flashed to Abel lying in a coffin instead of an extraction chair, and knew she was doing the right thing. “Do it,” she said.

The chair whirred as the helmet swung down and molded over Abel’s face. Restraint bands grabbed his arms and legs and wrapped around his chest. Something whirred underneath the helmet. Abel twitched against the bonds then went still. Cass resisted the urge to reach out and yank him free and had to remind herself: she was saving him.

She could only hope she’d acted in time.

“Strap in,” the ship said after a moment. "Company's coming, and I don't expect they're friendly."

Cass sat across from Abel and buckled herself in. The ship began to hum.

“We're gonna be together for a while," the ship said. "I told you my name. What’s yours?”

Cass hesitated, not sure if she should answer, but just as unsure as to why she shouldn’t.

 “Cassandra,” she finally replied. “Cassandra Cannon.”

“Pleased to meet you, Cassandra,” the ship said. And for some reason, Cass believed it. "And your brother?"

“Abel,” Cass said, the ache in her heart easing off a notch.

He was still alive. She just had to keep reminding herself–she hadn’t lost him.

“A pleasure to meetcha,” Vel said.

“Thank you, Vel,” Cass said, not even thinking about it. It should have felt alien, thanking a construct like it was human, but didn’t.

“Just doing my job,” it replied.

Cass sensed a note of humility in its voice. Could this machine truly feel pride? Was that possible? Or was this simply its programming?

She couldn’t tell. Vel was so unlike everything she’d been taught.

What else had she been wrong about?

Cass’ head buzzed with the dissonance. She couldn’t even try to process how drastically her life had inverted. An hour ago, she’d been on the front lines of defending humanity from the existential threat of eko aggression, and now she was working with an artificial mind to help her brother become one of them.

The change was so drastic and immense she couldn’t see any way around it. Like a solid wall dropped in her path, it stretched along the horizon in both directions. Which made her only option to turn and run the other way.

"Here we go," Vel said as the engine noise rose to a roar.

Cass closed her eyes, grateful for the press of acceleration numbing the guilt raging in her head.

All too soon, the rumbling quieted.

“We’re out of the atmosphere,” Vel announced. “Planetary Defense is moving to intercept, but we've got a contingency skip-gate opening shortly. Just sit back and let me handle it from here.”

They’d done it. They’d escaped.

Cass had sacrificed everything—her faith, her career, her future—but it had been worth it. She still had her brother.

After all, nothing was more important than family.