Lazarus Rising

1.15 Changes

On the trip back to the Sanatorium, Lazarus sat with his piercing eyes set unwaveringly on Charisa. Entranced by her presence and unconscious to all around him the twisting lines on his face settled into a mass of mesmerising patterns that played across his carbon grey skin like the many intricate whorls of a fingerprint come to life.

"Is he alright?" Cheyenne twisted in her seat and looked back at him.

Charisa turned and critically inspected Lazarus. She carefully lifted his shirt and rested her hand on his chest. "Post-traumatic stress. It is to be expected. I expect him to gain full use of his mental faculties within an hour or two as the effects of the residual chemicals from the containment jar flush out of his brain. It will probably take a few days before he takes proper functional control of his body." She turned back. "Give it time and he will come round. Look at the Lake, the Litost."

The sun had sunk low over the ice field, casting odd shapes in the lee of the chunks of shattered ice thrown up by the crash. The foreshore was crowded with people, the Litost out to reclaim the corpses of their lost relatives. Some isolated figures picked their way out across the vast expanse of ice to be met by roving bands of Metro men and turned back. Their animated body language betrayed the heated exchanges that were taking place.

On the shore, closest to where the ship had gone down, long lines of body bags filled the narrow pebble beaches. Around this area the crowd swelled, angry that this might be the prelude to a trip to the Riser facility. The Metro had erected long stretches of electrified barriers to keep the throngs at bay. In amongst the lightly armed Metro-men patrolling the fence, there was the occasional flash of red body armour that signified that Centurium, the elite forces section of Metro had been turned out. If they were out then Metro was expecting trouble.

"You see things, don't you?" Cheyenne was startled to find Charisa's face thrust close to hers. Melding itself to match her features, Cheyenne was presented with an exact mirrored simulacra of herself. Charisa blinked her chromium eyes and her fluid face transformed itself into an image of Hayden's, then reformed as Rovin's. Dissolving into the Metro Captains it swiftly transmuted back to Cheyenne's again. "Just because what you see appears strange, it does not mean it isn't real. All these things are purposeful. They have meaning. Don't reject them, invite them in. They will help you find your place in the world."

Cheyenne banked the aero sharply to the left making the engines whine in protest. "I'm not sure if I know what you mean."

"Since the day the Risers came back to life at the Collective, you have changed. In Hayden's office, when we met again I could tell you were seeing things you had not seen before. What was it you were seeing?"

Cheyenne leant forward and tapped the energy cell gauge. It was at 100%. It was always at 100%. She shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to shake Charisa's attention.

"There was a change. Wasn't there? In the operation room I was watching you while I performed the procedure. Did you notice? No? Well I noticed you. You are human Cheyenne but you are also a Lylac. You saw me in a way the others didn't. You watched every move, every check and judgement I made. These things are hidden to the likes of Moah and Rovin."

"You were not sure of what you were doing."

Charisa's eyes widened as her suspicions were confirmed. "I wasn't. But it was a calculated risk, and it was successful after all. Have other things changed for you? Sound, touch perhaps. You are experiencing an awakening of the senses built into your Lylac DNA. It may well be the prelude to something more exceptional. Often a severe shock can bring on this sort of change. Have you ever heard of people who can speak different languages or paint like famous artists after an accident? Maybe that is what happened in the Riser chambers at the Collective."

"Maybe." She steered the aero away from the city and headed off on the short jump across the Lake toward the stark white buildings of the Sanatorium.

Charisa's face dissolved into a neutral mould that reminded Cheyenne of the face of Diana she'd once seen in a picture by an Old Master down in the museum. When Charisa spoke her voice was distant, far away. "I too, see strange things. When humans die, something leaves them. Like a shadow it tears itself from them and crawls silently away, then like a vanishing shadow it dissipates into the air." She clicked her fingers with a clink. "And then it is gone." Her expression creased in doubt. "You do believe me. Don't you?"

"Why would I not?"

"Because you are human. You pick and choose what you wish to believe without reason." Charisa suddenly grasped her wrist, holding it so hard Cheyenne thought it may break. "The Risers have an essence, a thing that walks with them. I cannot describe it. They are not as dead as you might think. They have...."

"Souls?"

"Yes, that's it. They have souls." Charisa appeared relieved and lessened her grip.

They sat in silence then Charisa's grip tightened again. "When you look at me do you see anything?"

"No, Charisa, I don't."

The fingers slipped from her arm and for a faction of a second the Synthiod's eyes dulled. "No, I thought not."

"We are here," The wet leaves rushed up around them in a flurry of rusts and ochre's as Cheyenne dropped the vehicle onto the wet grass, "Come quickly, Haydens will be waiting to see Lazarus."

"I have been talking to Rovin and Moah," Haydens announced abruptly as they walked into the room. "You, Lazarus and Charisa are to go to Mars. Rovin will stay here to follow up the connection with your aunt and Maxer. If possible, he will locate Pires and your attacker in the churchyard."

Cheyenne pulled up. "But Haydens."

"You have your instructions," snapped Rovin, "do not question them."

As if considering her appeal, Haydens ran his hands over his forehead. "It is the way it must be Cheyenne. Rovin is right, you should not question me on it. Take Lazarus to Mars and find the connection, if there is one, with the Riser and the Lancer. I feel there may be questions there that you are best suited to find answers to. And our exceptional Synthiod has requested she be returned home and who can blame her, stuck here among all us unexceptional humans."

Allowing Rous to guide him across the room, Haydens sat down, drew a handful of Poppers from the jar and reflectively counted them from one hand to another like he was working a set of prayer beads. "Is Lazarus here?"

"Yes Haydens," Rous whispered, "He is here. Would you like to talk to him?"

Standing together they appeared like two old men from another time. Both looked fragile and weak. Haydens held out hands so thin and white they appeared to be made of waxen paper. Lazarus, still not fully in control of his body, shook so much that Charisa, fearing he may collapse steadied him by wrapping one steely arm round his waist.

As Haydens searching hands found Lazarus's shoulders his aurora slipped around Lazarus's fragile figure. They both embraced, like old friends meeting after many years apart. Haydens' pulsing light gently enveloped Lazarus and swallowed him in a host of spirals of sparkling lights. Leaning forward Haydens whispered something to Lazarus. Cheyenne tried to catch what was said but the sound slipped away from her. Lazarus tipped his head perceptively in acknowledgment and they released each other.

Haydens addressed the group again. "Seek out our friend Urbaine on Mars and ask him to help you. And remind him to contact us more often. He is like the long lost son, he left our care many years ago but now never calls home. Remind him of his duties to his family. Tell him we miss him dearly. Captain?"

"Yes, Haydens." The Captain pulled his uniform straight and stepped forward.

"The Captain here, will take you to the ship. He knows people that will care for you on the trip so you can travel unnoticed. Go now. May your fortunes be good."