The Line of the Sol Empress

Chapter 29.1

Love works with interconnecting circles.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith

[Hope]

Hope's mind swirled on the margin of consciousness, drifting in and out of darkness. Eventually, physical sensations came back to her, along with the pain. My head hurts. My whole body hurts. Her eyes fluttered open. Where am I?

She laid in a narrow bed with her head slightly elevated, covered with a thin white blanket and dressed in a simple patterned gown. A small tablet viewer attached to the bed rail beside her drew colorful lines across the screen and gently beeped with each heartbeat. A tattered gray curtain surrounding the bed blocked most of the view beyond it, but her ears made out the murmurs of voices and the periodic passing of footsteps. The area had an antiseptic smell to it. So, some kind of hospital.

Hope took inventory of her body. An IV tube connected to the back of one hand and another tube ran from under the sheets connected to a catheter. A soft bandage circled her head above her ears, matching several more bandages scattered across her upper body. Wow, I am really banged up.

Hazy memories surfaced in her mind — they crashed, people came on hover cycles, they shot Gabriel. Hope called out, "Gabriel? Are you here?" No answer came.

More memories returned — fighting, escaping on a stolen hover cycle, someone shooting at her, a searing pain in a leg, then falling. A strange numbness throbbed in her leg, yet seemed distant and disembodied. Gazing down at her body, Hope lifted her left leg, but the blanket near the foot of the bed did not rise with it. A wave of panic froze her, stealing her breath and twisting her gut. The soft beeps on the monitor sped up, racing. No, no...

Willing her arm to move, she dragged the blanket to the side. It revealed what she feared, the lower portion of her leg, from just below the knee, was missing. White bandages wrapped around the stub.

Hope flopped her head back on the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. This can't be happening! Anguish gripped her heart — grief for a lost part of herself. As she trembled, a single tear leaked out from the corner of one eye.

I have to find my brother! She called out again, this time louder, "Gabriel!" Hearing no answer, Hope pushed her elbows down and slid across the bed, grimacing from shooting pain in her ribs and the dizziness in her head.

"Steady now. You are in no shape yet to get up by yourself." A man in blue medical scrubs eased her back on the bed.

Hope laid back on the pillow, breathing deeply to chase away the sparkling lights swarming in her vision. "Where am I?"

"The New Hope Shelter in Orin. I am Dr. Stephen Boone. What is your name?" he asked.

"Hope." She studied Dr. Boone. He looked young, less than expected for a physician. Standing tall, he was trim but not skinny, and with well-defined muscles. His mussed sandy-brown hair bordered on unruly, and a two-day stubble grew on an otherwise gentle face. Deep hazel eyes, streaked with moss-green, projected compassion, but also held a hint of mischief.

Stephen grinned. "So then, you are the new Hope at New Hope." The grin faded. "Sorry, perhaps now is not the best time for bad puns."

A small smile spread across Hope's face. "No. Now is the perfect time."

His face took on the neutral expression that healthcare professionals sometimes project. "I see you noticed your leg. I'm sorry, there was nothing else we could do. But fortunately, whatever severed it did so cleanly and cauterized the blood vessels, else you might have bled to death."