Chapter 8: The Lioness

It is difficult for me to recall with absolute clarity the extraordinary events that have become my life. As my time slowly draws to its end, I find myself reminiscing about the present more so than the past. I suppose the reason for that is that I have always had to focus on what is right in front of me. But now, I find myself needing to prepare for the future, and that is why I must leave something behind so that future generations do not repeat my mistakes.

The Dark Creature taunted him. In the darkness, he heard it laughing in its cold, vile voice. It blamed him for their deaths. Ryan saw flashes of lightning, the Dark Creature wielding a huge, demonic sword and chopping through hundreds of Elven warriors at a time like a knife through butter. It reached out to grab him, its black-scaled hand glinting with silver claws. The beast wanted him ... wanted to drag him down to the depths of hell with it. He was going to die.

And then he woke up.

Ryan sat up with a start in his home ... and by home, he meant a small hut that he put together from cardboard, wood, and anything else he could find. A hodgepodge of pilfered goods, half-eaten apple cores, and broken bottles littered the ground surrounding a pile of old newspapers, magazines, and bits of dirty clothes that served as Ryan’s makeshift bed. Not the most eloquent of abodes in looks or fragrance, but for a lowly orphan child scraping on the streets, it was a hard-earned comfort.

The cardboard castle lay in an old alleyway and was fortunately out of the rain, except in the most severe of storms. Ryan even put a dirty old rug over the entrance, so it almost felt like a real home. He still couldn’t believe his luck in finding the place. So far, nobody had come to bother him. Not even the Preservers knew where he lived.

The hideout sat in a pretty remote region at the edge of town. From there at the top of a hill, Ryan had an eagle-eyed view of the rest of Tarrus. Technically, the entire planet of Tarrus was one giant conglomerate of a city. Even though people often called Fernady a town, the place acted as just a small, poor region of the bigger city that was the planet of Tarrus itself. Ryan had sometimes tried to venture out of Fernady, but the Patrollers always deterred him and sent him back. Something about not having the right permits.

Ryan rose, observing the cramped confines of his deficient home, and became startled to discover Hannah Lioness sitting next to him.

She gave him a motherly smile rarely revealed. “You finally awake, moron? I was getting worried.”

Ryan’s head felt like a bunch of Brownies had crawled inside and threw a drunken party. “What just happened?” he groaned.

Hannah’s expression hardened. “You inhaled some strangling gas. It forces your throat to constrict, making it impossible for the lungs to receive air. Fortunately, I’ve run across some before and I know how to counter it.”

Ryan started sitting up. “How the heck did you-” Then he looked down at his chest and perceived a long, thin glass tube sticking between his pectorals. “AAAAAAH!”

Hannah put her hand on his chest and spoke soothingly. “It’s okay. I’m a professional at this sort of thing.”

“What the heck is that supposed to even mean?! There’s a freakin’ shard of glass as long as an ant-eater’s tongue sticking into my nipple! How is this okay?!”

Hannah gave him one of those looks, much like his mom used to give him when he said something dumb. “You remember what I told you, right? While you were in the grip of the strangling gas, you couldn’t get any air into your lungs. That glass is shaped like a straw. It allowed me to bypass your throat and introduce oxygen back into your system, at least until the effects of the gas wore off. That ‘freakin’ shard of glass is what kept you alive.”

Ryan couldn’t help but feel a little stupid as he rubbed his head sheepishly. “Oh, Um. Thanks, I guess. I suppose that is kinda’ cool.”

Hannah nodded. “You’re lucky. If I hadn’t sensed that something was amiss, you’d be singing your last song.”

A new question came to mind as Ryan thought about things a little more carefully. “Hey, wait a second! How’d you get past those motion-sensitive laser cameras?”

Hannah gave him a face that almost seemed like sarcasm. “I ran really, really fast.”

Ryan wanted to inquire further when he noticed the singed robes as well as several burns on Hannah’s arms and legs showing through the cloth. He realized that she had risked her life to save his. Still, she had been lucky to walk away with only minor burns. Those lasers could vaporize someone at point-blank range.

She must be as fast as mom to be able to avoid those lasers.

At that moment, Ryan could hardly recall a time when he felt more ashamed of himself. He had given Hannah a hard time, and she nearly fries herself like a piece of bacon trying to save his sorry hide. He felt like the lowest of the low-leveled lifeforms. “I think I owe you an apology,” said Ryan humbly.

Hannah gave him a pitying look. “Do you think, or do you know, Ryan Uruks?”

Ryan sighed and finally conceded, “Okay. I apologize. If I had only listened to you, none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have a deadly straw sticking in my chest, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I’m really sorry.”

Hannah’s expression softened. “Apology accepted.”

Ryan began to realize that something else didn’t quite add up. “How’d Shaver Creed get his hands on something like that blue gas? And more importantly, how was he smart enough to use it like that? I once saw him spend hours in heated battle trying to pry open a can of beans. The beans won!”

Hannah’s face suddenly turned cold and calculating, like she had thought about that herself. “I’m not sure, Ryan. I can tell you with certainty that Shaver Creed shouldn’t have been able to get his hands on that gas. It’s a top-dollar item, usually reserved for professional assassins. The fact that he had some rigged to his safe can only mean that someone gave it to him ... someone with a great deal of affluence.”

Ryan rubbed his chin suspiciously. “You know, for a missionary, you seem to know a lot about assassination stuff.”

Hannah smiled again, this time more playfully. “I never said I was a missionary, kid. I only told you that I’m here to help.” Hannah then carefully removed the thin piece of glass and quickly put a bandage on the wound. The bandage absorbed a small trickle of blood.

“Can you teach me that trick sometime?” asked Ryan hopingly.

Hannah carefully cleaned the glass tube with a handkerchief while she spoke. “This is an old technique that I learned from some Mermaid surgeons. It’s better used for their kind since they live underwater and water flows better than air, but I have adapted it to be used for humans. It’s very tricky to master. For instance, if I had stabbed you in any other place besides the precise spot that I did, you would be dead. And there’s not a treatment for that either.” Hannah said it so matter-of-factly that Ryan felt chills going up his spine.

Ryan had one more question to ask her while she seemed so talkative, but he dreaded the answer. “Do you think that strangling gas trap was meant for me personally?”

Hannah didn’t answer right away; she preoccupied herself with her doctor’s bag for storing the tools of surgery. Judging by the looks of her equipment, she was pretty well off. She then rose to her feet, or at least crouched since Ryan’s box didn’t have enough room to stand in. “Ryan, I need you to come and stay with me at my home.”

Again, Ryan sat speechless. He had to admit, he felt a little embarrassed to be invited to a lady’s house. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

She held up her hand as if to silence him. “The Preservers know it was you who broke into their safe. Their lookout saw me dragging you away. They’re going to be looking for you to make sure you’re dead, and when they find out that you are not, they will endeavor to change that fact about your biology.

“This area may be remote, but it’s still exposed. It’s only a matter of time before they find you here. Your only chance is to come with me. No need to worry. I don’t expect you to make up your mind on your oath right away. I have an apartment at a hotel on the outskirts of Fernady. You can stay there until the pressure has died down here. Meanwhile, I’ll get a hold of some proper authorities to deal with the Preservers. If they’re dealing in weapons like strangling gas, then their existence is something I can no longer tolerate.”

Ryan tried to think of a way to object, but found his mind going blank. Without further explanation, Hannah grabbed him by the ear, painfully lifting him to his feet, and led him out of his box. To Ryan’s relief, it would be the last time he set eyes on that dingy box ever again.

After a lengthy ride in a taxi hover vehicle, Hannah brought Ryan to the nice side of Fernady. He had always known about it, but never could find a reason to go there - with everything being too expensive. And the Patrollers in that part of Fernady were extra vigilant, so he wouldn’t have had much in the way of opportunities for theft. Still, as he gazed up at the towers that hovered over the slums of Fernady, Ryan had always wondered what it must’ve been like to live in the rich part of town. Thinking back on his past fantasies about the place, he was not disappointed.

The hotel they stopped at was massive, at least a hundred floors up; the grand luxury hotel called the Iskandar, an epitome of posh. Though the clerks and attendants gave Ryan some sideways glances when he first walked in, one look from Hannah and they scurried away. In fact, they almost seemed a little intimidated by Hannah’s presence, and not just because of her stern face.

The hotel manager recognized Hannah immediately, giving her a keycard to the elevator that led to her penthouse suite. Though the lobby of the hotel seemed impressive with its golden-rimmed furnishes and silver pillars, it was nothing next to Hannah’s suite, so Ryan’s memories of the hotel itself were a bit muffled in comparison.

The penthouse sat on the very top floor of the hotel, and it looked like a virtual palace to Ryan’s young eyes. For the first time in five years, Ryan didn’t have to sleep in a box out in some smelly, cold alley. He didn’t have to scrounge around for food, and he didn’t have to worry about Shaver Creed and his thugs roughing him up every other week. In other words, it felt like the closest thing to a home that Ryan had seen in five years.

Whoever Hannah Lioness really is, she is one rich chick.

Ryan had to admire the splendor of his new digs. The place was huge. When she said apartment, Ryan thought that she meant apartment, not penthouse. Everywhere he went, he found a new wonder to behold. The house boasted an aristocratic chandelier that floated in the hallway. A golden masterpiece with old-fashioned scented candles and candelabrum suspended by anti-gravity lifters high above an exuberantly decorated hall. Throughout the penthouse, he found paintings, marble statues, and even artistic holograms.

Most of the relics seemed to have religious significance as they often depicted robed people praying before white, glowing creatures that Ryan could only guess to be Angels or Light Wraiths. The white stainless-steel floors displayed a sense of cleanliness that Ryan had never known before. Pillars boasted green, spiraling plants that ran down the length of most of the walls.

Everywhere Ryan went, service droids seemed to fly out of nowhere to wait on him hand and foot. The droids came in various geometric shapes and colors. They were about as big as Ryan’s hawk, and mostly shaped like pyramids, cylinders, squares, or spheres. They all had a single, blue mechanical-eye in the center and little arms with metallic fingers sticking out of the sides.

The droids came in shades of blue, green, red, and yellow, with occasional variations here and there. They made strange chirping noises and always greeted Ryan warmly when he passed by. Ryan even named a few of them, and when they weren’t cleaning, he could actually play games with them, like hide-and-seek or catch. Ryan couldn’t remember playing games since his time as a kid exploring the woods around the colony with the Butterbarts as company. Even though being around the lifeless automatons weirded him out a little, he had to admit, having someone give him free back massages whenever he wanted had its perks.

The only unpleasant experience Ryan endured while staying involved the time that he first walked in the door and Hannah sniffed him and said he needed a bath. Faster than he could blink, a couple of service droids scooped him up and carried him to the bathroom. Then they unceremoniously tore off his clothes and dumped him in the biggest bubble bathtub that he’d ever seen; or it probably would have been if he’d ever seen one before anyway. Even when staying with his parents, they always used sonic showers.

Although Hannah presented him with clean clothes afterwards, Ryan requested that she just wash his tattered, sleeveless shirt and black jeans with holes. Hannah compromised and presented him with clothes of the same design, though Ryan ripped up the new fabrics slightly to make them seem more familiar. Hannah made several attempts to prompt Ryan to choose some form of footwear, all of which were rejected.

Ryan finally remembered what a full stomach felt like, receiving three square meals a day prepared meticulously by the cooking droids, or even by Hannah herself. Occasionally Hannah would join him ... other times she would disappear, sometimes for hours, though to where she would not deign to answer. Ryan’s favorite part was getting his own room with a big fluffy bed that seemed to swallow him; plus, staying dry and out of the rain is no small perk either. Though Ryan felt unused to pampering, he certainly didn’t mind it that much.

During his stay, Ryan tried to find out everything he could about his hostess, but she dodged his questions ruefully. From what he could tell, Hannah didn’t stay in her penthouse too often as there were no holo-pics of family or friends. The only artwork to be found was the generic kind of holo-depictions that one would normally find in a hotel. Things like holovids of ancient monuments or natural beauties found throughout the universe, such as the flying rivers of Riverdon, or the massive Dragon statue that breathed fire on the Space Dragons’ home planet.

One day, Ryan found a painting of a young man about his own age. The painting caught his eye because it wasn’t a hologram like most of the other depictions. Someone had done this one by hand. The young man in the painting had short blond hair and blue eyes like Hannah’s. As Ryan looked at the painting at a certain angle, he could have sworn that the young man had golden scales just like he did, but then he convinced himself that it must’ve been a trick of the light, or maybe even a quirk of the artist.

Even more disturbing was the fact that the young man kind of reminded Ryan of his father, or at least the shape of his face and jaw, though Ryan thought that he might’ve been seeing what he wanted to see. When he asked Hannah about it, she suddenly became very tense and said that a Seer gave it to her many years ago. He didn’t ask about it anymore after that because of the forlorn face she got as she stared at the painting.

On the upside, Tyrant would fly in through Ryan’s window every once and awhile, bringing him some tasty treats to snack on. Surprisingly, Tyrant actually brought edible food for a change, but the bird usually ate the best things himself ... the greedy little pheasant.

Ryan never figured out how the bird even found him considering how far they flew in the taxi. One day, Tyrant just landed on Ryan’s head while he lounged on the balcony, and things resumed a sort of familiarity that wasn’t altogether unpleasant. Fernady might have its dark spots in Ryan’s memories, but Tyrant wasn’t one of them, at least for the most part. It almost felt like Tyrant had always been there from the beginning, eager as ever to peck Ryan on the head to get his attention.

As Ryan watched the fat little hawk chomp down his food like a piranha with feathers, he idly thought about Hannah. In many ways, living with her felt a little like living with his mother. She cooked for him, cleaned up his room, even joked around with him. However, it frustrated him knowing that she kept secrets ... almost like she mistrusted him.

One evening, Ryan lounged in his bed while idly playing with Tyrant, who kept pecking his fingers. Suddenly, Ryan heard a cough and a thud like someone had just fallen to the floor. Ryan ran down the hall to see Hannah Lioness on her knees clutching her chest and gasping for breath.

Ryan ran to her side. “What’s wrong?!”

Hannah tried to put on a brave face. “Oh, it’s nothing, kid. Just an old wound that acts up every now and-”

Hannah’s coughs cut her explanation short. The more recent bout of coughing sprayed blood, and then she collapsed to the ground breathing heavily. Ryan almost fainted. The last time he’d seen so much blood on someone heralded back to Toramirese. Ryan had difficulty breathing himself at that moment. He felt like passing out, but then he thought of Hannah Lioness in agony, a woman who cared for him when no one else would. In the back of his mind, a thought kept repeating itself over and over again.

Not again! Never again!

With strength that surprised even him, Ryan heaved the taller Hannah Lioness into his arms and dropped her on the couch. As he ran to retrieve some medicine and order a medical droid, Ryan vaguely regretted the fact that he might’ve dropped her too hard. He tried to alleviate the burden of shame by telling himself that he was in a state of panic. Ryan helped where he could by dabbing her head with a wash rag while the droids did most of the work, scanning her with a red light and applying injections to her arm.

As Hannah started regaining consciousness, she pushed his hand away from her head and said in a very ungrateful voice, “What do you think you’re doing, moron?”

Ryan realized that she referred to the wash rag, and sheepishly, he admitted, “It’s just something I saw on the network once. I thought it was what you’re supposed to do when someone’s sick.”

Hannah shook her head in bewilderment. “Of course it’s not what you’re supposed to do when the problem is with the internal organs and not the head. You only use a wash rag if someone has a fever.”

Ryan felt himself turning purple again for the first time in years. “Yeah, I knew that! I was just testing your medical knowledge! You passed!”

“Are you ... turning purple?” asked Hannah in astonishment.