Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

It was quite a sight to see six enormous machines bounding across the landscape. The TRTV stood ten feet tall, and looked something like an elephant skull with the back end of a scarab beetle riding on top of the legs of a tyrannosaurus. The skull housed the pilot cockpit. The beetle area contained the drive systems, retractable wings, and engines, used for in-flight maneuvering. On either side of the skull was an ominous assortment of weaponry, both lethal and non-lethal. Also on both sides of the skull, just below the weapons arrays, were the robotic armatures. They were very powerful. They could extend and retract, but they were a bit clumsy.

They reached their rendezvous point and again formed up in a defensive circle to await further instructions. The team stood in silence and continued their swarm scanning in order to utilize their time and make their topographic map more accurate. They were now about one hundred yards from the edge of a sinkhole that was a little over twenty yards wide with an unknown depth. Even with the rough edges of the opening, the hole looked more constructed than formed by nature.

She became more alert and imagined herself sitting up straighter in her seat. “Maybe this time,” she whispered to herself.

TWO

It struck Evangeline as odd how staring toward a gaping hole in the landscape could remind her of childhood. She was born and raised in one of the city-states known as Olympus. It had always been strange to her how the people in power likened themselves to the gods of the ancient world. This Olympus, however, was not a mountain in ancient Europe. It was a colossal building complex in the heart of what used to be North America. Olympus was a singular mammoth edifice that contained every known aspect of their civilized world. Hospitals, schools, industrial complexes, residential areas, even an interplanetary transit station and military base were all contained in or around a gigantic structure that was visible from space.

Evangeline was raised as an only child. Her parents, Matthew and Elizabeth Chapel, had wanted another child, but they could never get approval. They were physicians and researchers who worked in the Organ & Tissue transplant center. Her mother transplanted the new femur Evangeline received after a vehicular accident caused a bus to knock over a street light and break her leg as a child. The medical elites considered her parents artists in their field for their exceptional ability to mesh donated tissue and organs into their new hosts, creating a seamless blend between the old and the new tissues. Evangeline was even on the pre-accepted list to the top medical training facility in Olympus before her parents disappeared.

Even into her adult life, the memory of the last conversation with her parents confused her.

Evangeline had celebrated her thirteenth birthday a few weeks prior to the fateful day when her father had come home from work far sooner than normal. Her mother had stayed home, which was normal, as she often worked from home and consulted with other transplant clinics across the continent. He walked in the door, dropped his coat and briefcase on the couch, and walked into her mother’s office. Ten minutes later, they both emerged and walked into their bedroom, her father had a frightened look on his face as her mother brushed tears from her eyes. Evangeline followed and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Her mother turned, wiped away the wetness from her cheeks with a quick, almost imperceptible motion, and smiled in the way only mothers can to reassure a child that everything was all right amidst their own internal turmoil. “Dad and I have to go on an unexpected research trip. We’re going to be gone for a few days. We’ve asked Sloan’s mom if you can stay with them while we’re gone.”

That had not made sense. Her parents had gone away to conferences that lasted more than a few days and never saw the need to find someone to watch her, not since she had turned twelve. Something was not right and Evangeline began to feel uneasy about her parents’ odd behavior.

She could tell something was different. “Why can’t I just come with you?” she asked, gazing from one parent to the other, hiding the anxiety she felt. “I can just teleconference my classes while we’re gone. Just like when we all went to that convention in Satya.”

              “It’s different this time, Evy.” her mother replied. She was trying too hard to sound nonchalant. Her father chimed in at this point in between packing their various suitcases.

“It’s kind of a second honeymoon for us, sweetheart,” he cooed “We just want to have some time by ourselves.”

They had never acted like that before. It was typical for her parents to over-share details of their research and business trips. So much so, that Evangeline just wanted to UN-hear what her parents had been talking about on more than one occasion.

“So, where are you going this time?” Evangeline asked with confusion evident on her face. “Hawaiki?”

They looked at each other with a hint of panic, searching each other’s faces, until after a brief but significant shake of Matthew’s head Elizabeth walked up to Evangeline, placing her hands on her shoulders. “We can’t tell you this time,” she answered.

Evangeline was not only confused but also worried. She knew she did not have any right to demand to know, but they had never been secretive with her before. They had always treated her in a manner above her age, not like an adult or an equal, but with respect if she was old enough to ask the question, she was old enough to know the answer. They felt if she was mature enough to ask, she was mature enough to know the truth.

Her father gazed down at her with a somber look on his face. He dropped his hand to the small of her back and turned her toward the door. “Let’s talk in my office,” he said.

As they walked out of her parents’ bedroom, she turned back and saw her mother sit on the bed and sob into her hands. It was silent and heart wrenching to see her mother break down like that. Being strong and unemotional was Elizabeth’s normal behavior. Evangeline felt the conflicting desires between personal time with her father and comforting her mother.

They walked down the short hall into the room that served as her father’s office when he was home. It had always been one of her favorite rooms in their home. It was full of books, papers, and anatomical diagrams. The most memorable aspect of this room was that it smelled like her father. The odor of ancient leather books mixed with the slight acrid scent of his lab equipment was unique. She could never prevent herself from taking a deep breath the moment she crossed the threshold.

He sat down in his office chair, and Evangeline sat down on the small sofa that often became her napping place when she fell asleep reading her father’s books. Once they had settled in, her father unplugged his spectacles from the ports in his temples, placed them on the desk, and began rubbing the bridge of his nose.

It was always the signal to the beginning of an unpleasant conversation. It was like the time he lectured her for sneaking out of their apartment at night and a security patrol brought her home.

“Have you ever heard of the Dissidents?” he began with no other pretext.

Evangeline knew the term, but little else about it. “They’re the people that kidnap the Angels, right? Perform horrible experiments on them?” she offered like a student doubting her own accuracy during an oral examination.

Matthew smiled. The journal networks had circulated the same description about the group. Unknown members of an organization that abducted Angels, the kindest and most generous people she had ever known, right off the street without warning.

Her father sat still in his chair and pressed the tips of his fingers against each other. “What do you know about where the Angels came from?” he asked. His question took Evangeline by surprise. She learned about their origins since pre-school.

Evangeline thought for a moment, trying to remember her history lessons. “They’re refugees. They arrived in a caravan of alien transport ships… from beyond our galaxy or something, about six hundred years ago.” Matthew did not react, but remained passive as he awaited a more detailed answer.

“They were the ones that taught us how to fold space and travel beyond our solar system.” Evangeline added as an aside, trying to impress her father with typical academic recitation. “They were escaping a horrible planetary war between two factions that were fighting over religious beliefs. They just wanted to live their own religion in peace. Once they landed, they asked for asylum and in return all they wanted was the opportunity to serve among humans.”

After finishing her answer, Evangeline looked to her father, but he just sat there with an amused look on his face. Flustered, Evangeline asked, “Isn’t that right?”

Her father barked out a short, humorless laugh. “No, that’s exactly what has been taught for the past six hundred years. Whether it’s the truth or not…” he shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands palm-side up. “Well, we only have the words of the Angels themselves and historical reports to rely on.”

He slid toward the edge of his seat and leaned forward with an intense look on his face. Evangeline felt the seriousness from her father and mirrored his posture on the edge of the sofa. “Do you know how they got their name? Angels?”

She answered her father’s question in her head. There was no question. Angels, since they had first started interacting with Humans, showed generosity and kindness beyond anyone she had ever known. They were selfless, and preferred to live modest lives. They dressed in simple attire -nothing flashy- and never drew conspicuous attention to themselves.

              Angels believed that one true God created all life in the universe. Which, according to them, were the reason Humans and Angels looked almost identical in appearance.

              Their main distinguishing characteristic was their milky white skin, like alabaster. It was flawless. Their hair was also white, like baby powder, and their eyes were dark blue like the sky on a clear evening.

However, the most distinctive characteristic shared among all the Angels Evangeline had ever seen was their beauty. It was like looking into the face of a newborn baby. Even into their adult years their purity remained. No one could help but show reverent respect to an Angel.

Another interesting characteristic to Evangeline was that Angels preferred to live apart from humans until their elders deemed them mature. They wanted to raise their own children to be of service to humankind, and in order to do that they had to kept away from the temptations and ideologies of their new world.

No one, to Evangeline’s knowledge, had ever seen an Angel child, not once, in six hundred years. The predominant rumor was that their children remained secluded, within their enclaves, nicknamed Cathedrals. At which time they joined the other adults by offering their gifts of service to humanity. Upon reaching adulthood, they left their enclaves and become nannies, like Crystal, the Angel who watched over Evangeline as far back as she could remember.

Most became simple laborers within Olympus, collecting trash and cleaning floors. Others, the females, become surrogate mothers for women unable to bear their own children. Some ventured out to offer service in the Low Technology Zones (LTZ) as farm hands, factory workers, and other manual laborers.

She cleared her throat, readjusted her position on the sofa, and fidgeted with her hands with her next thought. “Some of my friends at school say the Dissidents kidnap the Angels to experiment on them. Trying to find out what makes them so different from us. They say Angels are here to take over the world. They’re trying to see what makes them tick.”

“That’s a common thought to explain their motives,” he said smiling, trying to ease her discomfort. “What the Dissidents are doing, in their eyes, is trying to understand the Angels. They believe the Angels have been manipulated into, well, slavery. They believe the Angels wouldn’t be so generous with themselves if they had another choice.”

Evangeline’s face contorted. She looked around the room, at nothing in particular. Matthew watched his daughter process this new information like a puppy adjusting to a new food dish. “I don’t get it,” she blurted out. “Angels are always the ones volunteering to help others. No one forces them to do it. They just do it! They offer their skin, organs, even their lives to save human beings. I always thought that was why they were so special. I thought that was why they were better than we are. They’re not selfish like people. How can it be slavery if they’re volunteering to do it? It was my Angel who offered herself to get my leg fixed.”

That was true. Crystal, her Angel nanny, watched over Evangeline while her parents were working. The memories brought up bittersweet emotions.

Crystal was the kindest person Evangeline knew. She never got angry. She never yelled. She was always patient, even to the point of taking abuse from Evangeline. As she grew older, Evangeline learned to show Crystal some respect. Crystal was there for Evangeline all day every day. Crystal took Evangeline to the hospital after the accident. When the doctors discovered the irreparable damage to Evangeline’s femur, Crystal offered to donate her own bone to repair her leg.

Crystal hobbled after that tragic day. Still, she never got angry. She never yelled. She was always patient. Crystal left their home when she volunteered to donate her liver to Evangeline’s ailing grandfather. He was suffering from liver failure and it was Crystal’s liver that saved her grandfather’s life.

“The Angels…” he paused with a deep breath, “…are more different than most people know. How they are different, I can’t tell you right now, but your mom and I are going to be doing some research to try to understand what makes the Angels so special. Can you accept that?” he asked with tender sincerity in his voice. Evangeline could tell by his tone that this was the end of the conversation and more information was not forthcoming.