Ground mission

    “Up, early to bed, early to rise.” Emmie ignored the tone, the voice that nagged her to awaken.  Ms. Smith reached over and shook her, but Emmie tried to hold fast to her dreams.  It was so calm there, so pleasant and she felt so…loved.  Something she really didn’t feel in the Tower, something she wasn‘t sure she could quantify.   Emmie rolled over and in an uncharacteristic manner, covered her head with the pillow.
    Ms. Smith immediately ceased her morning litany and removed the pillow from Emmie’s face.  Her wrinkled face was pensive, almost concerned.  It was still a cold look and it clashed with the sweet feeling of peace that had been a part of Emmie’s dream.  The older woman immediately took hold of Emmie’s wrist and began to take her pulse.  She peeled back her eyes and checked their reactions. 
    Annoyed Emmie pushed her aside and sat up.  “I’m fine.  No fatigue, no headaches, no shortness of breath.”  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. She felt more than saw the serious stare of her Guardian.  Ms. Smith decided to let the issue drop and turned to briskly making the bed.  She smoothed the white sheets and twitched the duvet over the top. 
    There was precious little to keep neat in Emmie’s quarters, but Ms. Smith went about pushing in a chair to the desk and tidying the books and papers.  No mementos graced the shelves, merely texts and volumes on medical terms, conditions and treatments.  The computer was dark,  no bright screen saver.  Only the large window in front of the table gave any color to the room.  The muted tint allowed only the deepest greens and browns of the Tower grounds to seep through.  The blue of the sky, the yellows of the wildflowers nestled amongst the trees, all tamed to monochrome, flat tones.
    Emmie stood in the doorway of the bathroom.  She stared out the window, wishing for a clear view.  Wishing for a moment in the sun, a breeze to lift her hair, all things that she doubted would happen, at least today.  She felt cold, deep within herself, though the room was maintained at a constant temperature.
    “Better?” Ms. Smith was laying out the breakfast.
    “Yes.  I guess I’m just bored.  Haven’t had a field mission in a while.”  Emmie sat at the table and took the linen napkin that was handed to her.  She ran the fabric through her fingers several times.  It was smooth, but the edges had been rolled with thread, giving it an odd bump right as the smoothness ended.  She had never noticed it’s texture before.  She caught Ms. Smith’s expectant look and began to eat her breakfast.  Eggs and whole wheat pancakes again.  A fun change from the routine.  Her last weigh in must have been under, she was getting larger portions and heavier foods.  She felt like she was being rewarded, there was even syrup.
    “Well. No need to push you too far. I am sure as soon as Dr. Reyes clears you through the Committee, you can do more of your work.”  She went to the bathroom and began to tidy in there.
    Emmie chewed her food slowly.  Not really to savor it, but to delay.  Ever since her collapse, she was given only study tasks.  She hadn’t seen or touched an actual patient.  While brushing up on her studies was great, she buzzed with untapped energy. She felt that she almost vibrated with it. Sometimes she felt the endless days like ants crawling on her limbs.  She frowned.  She had never seen an ant outside of a text on toxic insect bites.  Still she was twitchy and irritable as she had never been before.  Ms. Smith’s tolerance to it was starting to wear thin.  She came out of the bathroom and gave the plate another significant look.  The look that said the portions had best be consumed before they chilled.  Emmie bent her head back to her plate, chewing.
    The door chimed and the light over it flashed green.  Emmie eyed it warily, half expecting one of Dr. Reyes’s techies to come in wanting to run another needless test on her, but to her delight it was Darren.  Even better, he carried a mission folder.  His grin was more restrained than last time, but it still showed his delight in seeing her.
    She fought down an urge to jump up and hug him.  Such behavior had been firmly schooled out of her years ago, but the compulsion persisted.  She smiled back warmly, grateful to see him after such a long time.  He had not come back to see her in the infirmary.  All of her requests for information had been denied or put off and Emmie had feared that she would ever see her Watcher again.  She had had little contact with anyone and she felt the lack of social stimulus acutely.
    “Please. Please tell me you have a mission for me.” Emmie stood and tossed her napkin to cover her plate.  Here was hope that another dry day was beyond her.  Here was hope that she might get outside her small walls.  She might see colors today.  She might feel weather today.  Someone might tell her something of the world that stretched beyond her window.
    Darren smiled fully this time.  Her eagerness was contagious.  He held up the mission folder and nodded.  Emmie smiled, her teeth flashing whitely.  He grabbed her dark blue Tower marked blazer from the wall hook and motioned for to the bath room.     “Ms. Smith, not to worry, this is a one stop, one patient affair.  Emmie is only playing back up to a surgical team.  Emmie, please go dress in business attire.”
    Ms. Smith nodded, wisely not mentioning the last mission.  Emmie flew into the bathroom with its clothes drawers and closet.  She pulled on her dark plaid skirt and  white button down shirt.  She grabbed knee socks and her loafers. Darren and Ms. Smith were still quietly staring at each other, the silence charged.  Though Emmie had heard no voices, the looks they exchanged  had volume.   Emmie grabbed the blazer with the small stone tower embroidered on it and elbowed Darren.  He looked down at her and smiled  The red light flashed and Emmie smiled to know she was out of her room.  She felt recharged and almost bouncy.  Darren gently guided her down a hallway.  After about fifty feet, another door light flashed red and Maggie and her Watcher stepped into the hallway.  Maggie was dressed just like Emmie.
    “Half the Tower’s been mobilized,” Maggie’s Watcher commented to Darren.   He gestured to Emmie, “Don’t forget the pinger.  Gotta have something for Maggie here to find.”  He was tall, but not with the narrow build often seen in tall men.  Emmie studied him as he pulled Darren aside to speak  in hushed tones .  He had to be about six foot five inches.  Broad shoulders stretched the material of his uniform.  He gave every appearance of being in command.  She noticed his belt was more complex and held more equipment than Darren’s.  Dark metal things that looked dangerous.
    Maggie bounced beside him, her youthful energy making her almost glow.  She was the dark color of the young man that had asked God to bless her, Emmie realized.  Her black hair caught up in barrettes beside her face and the rest spilled freely down her back in a mass of soft waves.  It wasn’t contained in a braid, confined to a bun.  It looked so soft.  So carefree.  She patted her own business-like braid.
    “I get to go out.  On a mission!!  I don’t know where I get to Skip, but where ever it is, I can find it!” Maggie clapped her hands and looked up at her Watcher, who held out his hand to her, palm out.  Maggie leaned over and whacked it with her own hand.  She giggled fiercely and jumped in place.
    “That’s my Bull’s Eye girl.” He tugged on her hair and then turned back to Darren. “I guess I see you at the de-brief.  Hopefully we all won’t have to do much but babysit and drink stale coffee.”  He took Maggie’s hand and they went down a side corridor, Maggie chatting away at her Watcher, who laughed occasionally at her comments.  Emmie paused to study them, such a small girl with such a tall capable man.  And both seemed so content, happy even.  Maggie obviously loved her missions.
    “Let’s go, Emmie, “Darren spoke quietly, searching Emmie’s face.
    “What does Maggie do, exactly?” Emmie asked as they continued down the hall.
    Darren glanced at her, then along the hallway.  Only the silent white corridors looked back, marred at intervals by blank doors with lights over the top. Over each door, one red light, one green., none of them lit.  Sound bounced oddly and Emmie realized that the rooms beyond the doors were shielded.
    “You know the Tower has many programs, many skilled girls.  Maggie is a Skipper, just as you are a Nightingale.  She can Skip from one place to anther, geographically.  She’s being trained to work with a Hound, these are girls that can fetch things without having to touch them, but their range is very limited.  Maggie is especially gifted because she retains a sense of every place she has Skipped.”  He glanced at her thoughtful frown.
    “That would explain her knowledge of geographic regions and terrain.  I suppose all of the girls in the Tower have specialized training and education?”
    “Yes.  The Hounds study mass, density and physics, Skippers study geography and Nightingales study biology and physiology.”
    “But I’m the only Nightingale left, aren’t I?”
    Darren stopped short.  He  didn’t look down at her, didn’t turn his head.
    “Why do you say that?”
    She paused too, and frowned slightly. She turned to look at him, but he still stared straight ahead.
    “After the last mission, I overheard some of what you and Dr. Reyes were talking about. Am I right?”
    “Yes, you are the only Nightingale.  Which is why your collapse after the last mission caused the Committee to re-evaluate your mission status and the parameters under which you work”
    He started walking again, his usually open face, clouded and worried.  Emmie took the hint and didn’t ask anymore questions.  She really wanted to know what happened to Kay.  The other Nightingale had been only a year younger than Emmie.  She had been something of a friend and study partner rolled into one.  Emmie had often looked forward to their practical training together.  But she had not seen Kay in some time.  Or Kay’s Watcher.   She could only assume now, that Kay was dead.
    The thought saddened her.  She seemed to be without a companion, even though Darren walked by her side. The only one of her kind.  She knew Darren would lay down his life for her, knew he would give up everything he had and was to see her safe, but it wasn’t that safe.  It couldn’t be.  Kay had had a Watcher, and now where was Kay?  Where do people go when the body no longer functions.  Not for the first time Emmie was confused by this issue.  So if it was safe, if her Watcher was even half as good as Darren, what had happened to Kay? Emmie understood the process of decay, but what about Kay, the part of her that laughed at funny sounding Latin terms and loudly proclaimed that eating kidney beans was cannibalism? Where had she gone?
    Darren took a side corridor that Emmie had not used before. Emmie was still deep in thought as Darren handed paperwork to two guards at the corridor entrance.  A red light rotated and flashed and a small tone echoed through the hall.  Emmie looked up as Darren fastened a chunky bracelet to her wrist.  It had linked bands and where the two pieced joined was a small bird perched on a caduceus.
    “Just a little added insurance. “ He smiled at the two guards and herded Emmie towards another door at the far side.  Emmie poked at the bracelet, a small LED glowed on the side facing her wrist.  She held up her wrist and jiggled it at Darren.  It’s weight unfamiliar on her wrist.
    “Insurance?”
    “It’s a pinger.  I’ll explain it in the car,” he whispered tersely.  A sleek long black car pulled up outside the door and the driver came around and opened the back door.  He saluted Darren and gestured for Emmie to enter.
    With ill concealed glee Emmie got into the car.  She had never ridden in a car before.  Whenever she had left the Tower in the past, it was by chopper.  The novelty of being in a car excited her and her young mind forgot about the dark conversation  in the hallway.  She scooted across the seat to give Darren room to enter and eagerly looked out the far window.  The tint was too dark for her to make out more than the flooring of the parking structure.  No sun yet, no wildflowers and fresh breezes, but a car ride!!!  She rubbed her hands along the smooth seats.  The textured soft and supple. 
    Darren tapped her shoulder and gestured for her to buckle her seat belt.  He handed her a bottle of water and a protein bar.  After making sure she was secured, he gave a signal to the driver and the car pulled forward.  Emmie watched as the lights on the ceiling ticked by at regular intervals.    The sensation of rolling forward made her head swim slightly.  It was so different from the swift uplift of the choppers.
    She nibbled the food as light began to grown in front on them.  The car pulled out of the underground structure and into the muted light of a forest.  Emmie completely lost interest  in the food as she gasped at the sight of the green trees, the ferns, the black topped road.  The sun flickered overhead, chased by clouds, the shadows moving in and out in response.  Emmie watched as the black topped road met with another road, and traffic began to filter around them.  Other cars passed, various colors, and people were inside them, driving, talking, and moving.  Many, many people.
    Suddenly the windows darkened completely and Emmie couldn’t even make out the road that hummed under the tires. “Hey!” She protested.  Darren raised a surprised eyebrow at her outburst, but didn’t reprimand her further.  A dark solid panel went up between the driver and the back seating.  Emmie sat back, demure.
    “Pardon me, “ she said quietly.  Her early Tower training stressed positive and compliant behavior.  Acting out, fussing and complaining were harshly punished.  She felt that after her last mission, things were going to be very much by the book, to the letter.  She wistfully recalled a mission that had ended early.  Darren had whispered to a staff member and they gone out and come back with an amazing treat for her.  Emmie didn‘t think she would be treated to ice cream again any time soon.
    She tugged at the bracelet again, “What is this thing?”
    Darren checked the bracelet secured to wrist. “It’s called a Pinger.  Get used to it.  Our Skippers are now skilled enough that in case you are ever,mmm, separated from me, one of them can locate you and retrieve you with the aid of a Hound.”
    “Oh.  Do I have to wear it all the time?”, she moved it up and down her wrist.  Emmie really didn’t like it, not being used to any form of jewelry. “It tingles.” 
    Darren frowned, “It shouldn’t be doing anything to you.”  He peered at the connection and the glowing LED.  “I don’t feel anything.”
    “I do.  It’s hard to explain and I am not sure, but I don’t think I like it.”  In fact it tingled quite a bit, but Emmie was afraid that if she complained too much, the mission would be scrubbed.  She couldn’t face another day of being confined to her rooms.
    “Well, for now it is only when you are on field missions.  Just try and ignore it.”  He dug into his mission folder and pulled out a stack of papers.  “ This is a very unusual mission for us.  There is a man, an important man who is having heart surgery today.”
    “Why is he bothering with surgery?  We’ll be there soon, right?  I can help.”  She wrinkled her brow at the thought of traditional surgery, so invasive!  Granted, it was easier for her to heal an organ if she touched it directly, but she could still fix them if there was no incision.  It simply took more time and energy.
    “This case is different.  It is very high profile and the Tower likes to keep a low profile.  You just can’t go in and heal this man.  I am told the surgery is routine, the surgeons are the best and the man is in otherwise excellent health.  You are to be nearby in case of a problem.  Not seen, not heard.  Only in the event of an emergency will you be summoned to the OR .”  He handed her a thin packet of information.
    She studied it briefly, noting particulars.  It was very minor.  Oh, sure, if left unattended the blockage would likely cause a massive coronary and kill the man, but Emmie could have the heart and vessels corrected and in perfect shape in twenty minute, thirty tops.  There was very little detail on personal information and there was no picture.  Emmie handed back the file.   Looking back at the window, she composed herself for a potential mission.  She hated to get her energy going too much if all she did was end up sitting around.  Still, she was trained to always provide the best she could.  Emmie made sure she had her hand wipes and protein bars tucked into her blazer pocket.  She may be the only Nightingale left, but she was still determined to be her best.
    The car ride was uneventful.  Darren was no longer talkative.  He was uncharacteristically quiet.  For the first time since he was Emmie’s Watcher, Emmie felt uncomfortable with him.  She didn’t have the social skills needed to start a random, non-mission related conversation.   She stared out the car window, trying to peer beyond the extreme tinting that was on it.  Without warning the tint was dropped and Emmie could see soaring buildings, cars upon cars, and people were everywhere.  Most of them appeared to be in military uniform.  The buildings were inter sped with greenbelts of grass and trees.  Birds flew in groups over the roof of one building, landed, only to fling themselves into the air again.  Emmie, eyes unblinking, looked over at Darren.  He wore a sheepish grin and winked at her.  He put a finger to his lips.  She took the hint and didn’t say a word, just continued to stare out the window.  She felt a glow inside at the return of Darren’s usual self.  This was the Watcher she had known.
Her delight in the sun, colors and people was short lived as the car quickly turned a corner and then descended into an underground parking structure.  Emmie sat back into the seat.  She felt calmer and happier.  Darren no longer seemed a stranger to her.  The car pulled up to a bank of elevators.  A group of serious faced and dark suited men stepped forward and opened the door for Darren.  He stepped out and handed over his paperwork.  One of the men, an unsmiling blond man, motioned Darren to step forward and then held out his hand for Emmie.  Darren moved back and whispered a few terse word to Blondie.  The man shook his head and motioned Darren away.  Blondie leaned back into the car and offered his hand to Emmie again.
    Emmie hung back, trying to see beyond Blondie to Darren.  This was way past a breach in protocol.  Emmie was not supposed to have contact with anyone but Tower personnel and her patients.  The man snapped his fingers at Emmie and gestured for her to come out.  Emmie slid closer to the car’s door but was reluctant to touch the man,  He exuded impatience and negativity.  His face was set in frown lines, the marks prematurely etched into his face.  He hadn’t said a word, and Emmie felt that he was angry and disapproved of her.  Her head swam as foreign emotions settled in on her.  Why was he angry?
    “Just don’t touch her,” Darren was arguing with the other men now, his attention divided between Emmie and the suited men.  He moved to go back to Emmie and two of the other men reached over and restrained his shoulders.  As Blondie reached over to grab Emmie’s arm, the driver from the Tower car was suddenly between him and Emmie.  He was tall and built much like Maggie’s Watcher.  Emmie sank back in the car, protected, grateful to be shielded from such an angry person.
       “You were briefed.  Nobody touches the Nightingale.”  The driver simply stood, large and imposing.  He didn’t speak further.  Blondie glanced back.  Darren’s face was deeply red, redder than his brush cut hair.  His eyes were flashing and the two men holding his shoulders were straining so hard their suit coats were stretched taut.
    Emmie didn’t understand the factions that were at play.  She didn’t understand the turf war that was unfolding in front of her.  She understood enough to see that there were too many strong willed men, and that there was a power contest in play.  What she did understand, and understand well, were the rules that governed her life.  The largest Tower rules were that girls of the Tower have no contact with outsiders, unless approved by their Watchers.  Obviously the driver was more than just a chauffeur.  He hadn’t looked quite so large when he had been sitting behind the steering wheel.
    The silence thickened.  Then the one man who was not holding Darren cleared his throat.  Blondie looked back.  The other man nodded briefly and Blondie stepped back.  Emmie looked to Darren.  Darren looked pointedly at the two suits holding him.  They stepped back.  Darren moved forward and clasped the driver on the shoulder.  The driver nodded and stepped back.  Darren reached into the car and offered Emmie his hand.
    Emmie stared a moment and then grabbed his hand and let her help him out of the car.  She straightened her clothes and tried not to look at the other men.  She was afraid and it was such an unnatural feeling for her. In her short life, she had always been shielded, never had she felt fear.  Never had she felt a fear for her own safety.  The pinger tingled more, a distraction.  She felt out of balance.  She was unsure of herself.  Her normal energy that propelled her into a field mission was shattered.  She was awkward as they entered the elevator.  As soon as the doors slid shut, Darren dropped to his knee and cupped her chin.
    “Are you all right?”
    “I guess so,” she felt so tired, her energy was more like the end of a mission than the beginning.  “They don’t think the patient is going to live.  I could feel it coming through them.  They don’t want me here.  They think I’m a mistake.  They think I am going to kill him.  And that would be very very bad for everyone.  Why do they think that?” Only her Tower training kept her tears from spilling down her cheeks.
    Darren dropped his hand and looked deeply into her face and spoke slowly, “What are you saying?  You could read their thoughts?”
    Emmie grimaced and shook her head. “No, it was more like…it was more like their feelings were talking.  Only not in words.  And, Darren, they are worried and so very angry.”
    Darren looked at her and then stood up and awkwardly hugged her shoulders tight to him.  He sighed.
    “This is new isn’t it?”
    She sniffed, calmed by the contact, secure in his solid form next to her. “Yes, it never happened before.  I don’t like it.”  She took a deep shuddering breath and let it out in a slow controlled exhale.
    Darren released her and dug into his pocket and handed her a hanker chief.   He dabbed gently at her face and pushed back her hair.  He smiled down at her. His calmness settled her.
    “This is more than likely only going to be a waiting game.  Chances are, we won’t have to do anything.”  He sighed again and looked up for a moment. “Compose yourself and when we get back to the Tower, we can ask Dr. Reyes some questions.”
    Emmie nodded.  She didn’t know why, but when the disagreement at the car had happened, she could suddenly feel the emotions of those around her.  She was used to feeling the pain and injuries of patients, of sensing where the problems were coming from, but never had she connected with anyone on an emotional level.
    As the elevator slowed  and the doors opened with a quiet hiss, Emmie was glad she could feel Darren's emotions.  He was a rock.  He was a solid wall of calmness and security.  His focus was Emmie and right now, she really needed to feel safe.