The medics glanced towards the door with tight smiles and slight nods of their heads. When Rachel followed their gaze, she saw that Druro was standing in the doorway.
'Omeila will identify the toxins,' he said in a voice that was quiet but sure.
Rachel stared at him as resentment built up inside her. Who was he, really? She wished that Lord Hades would return so she could ask him about Druro and find out what he was hiding.
As soon as he had cleared the doorway, a hideous creature stepped into the room behind him and headed straight towards Markov. Rachel's first instinct was to strike it down, beat it with her fists and boots, and then fire her impact pistol into its face until all her ammunition had run out. Such was the state of her revulsion, but she forced herself to keep still as she hung onto her fired-up emotions.
Druro had brought the creature with him. He had given it a name too - Omeila. As much as she despised him, she knew that he was on her side. Whatever this monster was, it was here to help Markov, not to harm him. She had to make a real physical effort to allow the creature to stride past her and lean over Markov's body.
'What the hell is that?' Drefnig said, his words mirroring Rachel's own disturbed thoughts.
'Her name is Omeila,' Druro said, grimacing at Drefnig's blunt tone. 'She knows more about toxins than any man alive. She can taste them through her skin.
Rachel blinked. Omeila was female? How could anyone tell? She was so ugly. Omeila was far from human, and she didn't look like a cleric either, though Rachel presumed that she might be some distant relation to them. The stench of rotting flesh was difficult to ignore. Cleanliness was obviously not high on the list of whatever species Omeila belonged to.
The creature stood at a little over four and a half feet tall. Dull grey skin covered her head with countless overlapping folds of repulsive flesh. Her face looked like a plucked chicken that had been left to rot for three months and then scrunched up into a ball. Her eyes and mouth were barely visible through the thick folds of skin that covered her repugnant face, and she wore a rough white cloak that hung open at the neck, stopping just short of her bony knees. Rachel almost gagged when she saw the creature's legs. They were riddled with wriggly blue lines that moved around beneath her skin.
When Omeila raised her small grey hands, Rachel stared at her thick fingers, disturbed by the patches of orange mould that covered her skin. It was hard to look at her without feeling ill.
'This isn't right,' Drefnig said.
'Stay out of her way,' Druro said in a warning tone. 'She's here to help.'
Omeila approached Markov with short, shuffling footsteps, pressing her face against his cheek, and sniffing with her short pug nose. She grasped his head between her short fingers and sniffed each cheek in turn.
Rachel's hand hovered over her impact pistol. Something deep inside her still wanted to blow a hole through the back of the creature's head, but Druro's words restrained her - for the moment at least. She would wait and see what the creature did next.
Omeila made strange slurping noises in the back of her throat as she continued her examination. Her hairy pointed ears twitched each time she pressed her face close to Markov's skin. It was a good thing that Markov was unconscious. Rachel couldn't imagine how he would react if he could see what was going on around him.
The medics stood back, looking helpless while Cassendra managed Markov's basic body functions, and Omeila examined him to identify the toxins in his body. She jerked her head backwards after snorting Markov's left cheek, barking in short angry bursts before pressing her face to his skin again.
Rachel shuddered as she noticed something wriggling just beneath the neck of Omeila's cloak, rippling the cloth along her shoulders. It was all too much. Part of her wanted to leave so she wouldn't have to witness any of it, but her heart wouldn't let her leave Markov alone with this creature. He was the General. He deserved to have someone watching over him while his body was examined and probed in so many unnatural ways.
Omeila started slurping again, now moving her pug snout to Markov's right cheek. She shook her head violently from side to side, making guttural noises in the back of her throat before throwing her head back and shaking from her head to her feet.
'Is she okay?' the tall medic asked with concern.
Druro stood with his arms by his sides. 'Do not concern yourself,' he said. 'Omeila has identified the toxins. She must now cleanse herself of the contamination.'
'Contamination?' Drefnig said, taking a step backwards. 'Are we at risk here?'
Druro shook his head, but didn't clarify his remark.
Omeila stopped shaking and let out a high pitched series of staccato barks that startled everyone in the room.
Druro stepped forwards and nodded. 'The four toxins have been identified,' he said. 'They are Ronalax-II, Sterium, Asperiun and Wexic.'
The medics looked pale at the news. 'Asperiun and Wexic?'
'Is that bad?' Rachel said.
It was Druro who answered. 'Asperiun is a living parasite. It consumes white blood cells and multiplies rapidly. It excretes chemicals that cause living cells to die. Over long periods it results in the rotting of living flesh. Wexic is a bio-engineered virus that specifically targets and destroys human DNA.'
Rachel wished she hadn't asked.
Druro stared straight through her as though he could see every fear and insecurity that ravaged her mind. 'Cassendra can treat him now,' he said, turning to face Markov's body once more.
Cassendra's arms burst into a flurry of motion, pumping various chemicals and antidotes into Markov's bloodstream from many different coloured vials at once. Her arms moved with precision, applying sprays to his face while using infusors on his arms and managing his bloodstream directly through the metal spikes that she had plugged into his wrists. Markov's head hung slack in her arms, the colour draining from his face.
'Will he live?' Drefnig said, staring at the medics. He looked almost as pale as Markov himself.
Nobody answered at first. There was an uncertainty in the room that nobody wanted to explain.
'He may not,' Druro said without turning his head, 'but his spirit is strong. Cassendra will need to treat him for at least forty-eight hours. If she can successfully neutralise the toxins, parasites and bio-engineered viruses, then we shall see what remains of his body and mind to heal, but it will be Markov himself who ultimately decides his own fate. His recovery will be long and hard. He will not survive unless he has the heart for it.'
Rachel rubbed the back of her neck. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.
'Until then,' Druro said, 'you must take his place.'
Rachel looked up, confused. It wasn't until Drefnig nodded that she realised Druro was talking to him. A wave of relief ran over her. She could never replace Markov. His mind worked in an entirely different way to hers. He bore the whole world on his shoulders in a way that was alien to her.
'Protect the black towers as you would your arms,' Druro said. 'Protect the White Spear as you would your heart. Central Command now answers to your voice.'
'Did you just change the chain of command?' Rachel said, wondering what had just happened.
Druro nodded. 'General Markov cannot function like this. He is not able to give the order himself. The change must be made, nevertheless.'
'Who authorised you to do such things?'
Druro's eyes narrowed. 'Lord Hades cannot make the decision. He isn't here. General Markov is incapacitated. Who would you suggest makes this decision?'
Rachel glanced at Drefnig to confirm that he was as confused as she was. He gazed back at her as though waking from a foul dream.
'The commanders of Central Command should make this decision,' she said.
'If they choose you, will you take the role?' Druro said.
Rachel shook her head.
'Then they will choose Commander Drefnig. You know it is so.'
'But—'
'We have no time to waste. The Kamari army will be upon us shortly. This is no time for procedures and time wasting. Drefnig is now the Voice. Markov would have wanted it so.'
Rachel let out a long sigh. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't arguing about whether Drefnig was capable of performing the role, or even that it shouldn't be given to him. She was just unhappy about Druro changing the chain of command without any kind of authority. She still didn't know who he was. He painted himself as Lord Hades' humble servant but she was certain that he knew more than he admitted. None of this made any sense to her. She could age a hundred years and still not know what was going on.
Drefnig stepped forward. 'I can do this.'
Rachel stared into his eyes. 'I know you can, but will the commanders accept this? It doesn't follow any protocol.'
'Druro is right. This is a time for action rather than words. The commanders will follow me. I know they will, once they understand what has happened.'
Druro didn't wait for confirmation. He turned and strode out of the room, making a clicking noise in the back of his throat as he left.
Omeila had recovered herself now, her black eyes peering out between thick folds of skin that formed her monstrous face. It was difficult not to stare as she walked past with bent legs and rolling shoulders. Tufts of thick black hair protruded from her wide, flat ears.
Rachel didn't know whether to thank Omeila or strike her down with her fists. Her sense of revulsion was overwhelming. She was relieved when the creature finally left the room, taking her rotting stench with her.
'What was that?' Drefnig said, staring towards the door with an appalled expression.
Rachel shook her head. She could still smell something damp and rancid in the air. She didn't want to think too much about it in case she made herself ill. 'Whatever it was, we can't let it walk free in the towers.'
'Omeila is one of Lord Hades' staff,' the short medic said.
'Has she been here before?' Rachel said.
'Once. A long time ago. Before I was born, actually. It was apparently a memorable occasion.'
'I'll bet it was,' Rachel said. She didn't like the idea of Omeila roaming the corridors. If the creature strayed across any soldiers, there was a good chance they would shoot her. But what could Rachel do about it? Druro was an authority unto himself. Drefnig didn't look like he was about to challenge him. If Lord Hades didn't return soon there was going to be a mutiny of some kind or other. Markov had abandoned his treasured chain of command and left them to fight amongst themselves.
Rachel stared at the General Markov's limp body as he lay on the metal bunk in front of her. He looked worse than ever, despite Cassendra's valiant efforts to revive him. His tormented muscles suffered repeated cycles of convulsions as Cassendra did her best to hold him still. Rachel looked on with sadness in her eyes. He was powerful man and a natural born leader. It didn't feel right to see him so helpless like this.
Drefnig turned towards her when Markov's convulsions finally subsided. 'Call a meeting of all the commanders in the Orange Room. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.'
Rachel nodded. She took one last glance at Markov and then hurried through the adjoining room towards the corridor outside.
* * * * *
Drefnig gathered his thoughts. Druro had put him in a difficult position by declaring him to be the Voice without any kind of authority, but now that it was done, Drefnig intended to make it work somehow. He would talk to the commanders. He would explain the situation in full. He would need their full backing if he was going to take Markov's place, even temporarily.
The medics had returned to their duties, ignoring Drefnig while they operated their consoles and watched Cassendra performing her tireless work.
'How long before the General is back on his feet?' Drefnig said.
'Commander Drefnig,' the short medic said. 'You don't understand. There is a strong chance that General Markov will die within the next few hours.'
'But you said—'
'If Cassendra is able to cleanse his system in time, and if she is able to reverse the organ damage, it could still take weeks or months before he is conscious. Even then he could be permanently brain damaged.'
Drefnig took a long, deep breath. It wasn't what he had wanted to hear.
'Whatever your prisoner did to General Markov, it's clear that he wanted him dead. I've never seen such combinations of toxins used like this before. It's beyond excessive. Whoever orchestrated this attack had maximum damage in mind.'
Drefnig turned and walked towards the door like a puppet carried by unseen strings. The other commanders were depending on him now. He had to meet their expectations. He had take Markov's place.
Leaving Markov lying like a corpse on the bunk behind him, he stepped into the adjacent room and continued into the corridor outside. It was a surreal feeling to be handed command in such a fashion. He had wanted to be a general all of his life, but not like this, not by taking the jacket of a fallen friend.
Sometimes choices were made by the absence of any alternative rather than through well formed plans. It was just how the world had always been.
The Kamari had released Riser Trent without any explanation, and now the greedy, selfish hacker had become an assassin overnight. It didn't make any sense. Why would Trent risk his own life to kill Markov, a man that he hadn't even met? It was out of character for him to put himself in so much danger. What Drefnig had learnt most about Trent so far was that he cared only about himself.
Drefnig thought about it. Wouldn't it make far more sense if the Kamari had put Trent up to it? They were the ones who would benefit most from killing Markov just before their daring attack. Maybe they hoped to spread chaos and confusion amongst the security forces by killing their leader? Drefnig wasn't about to let that happen. Druro had been right to alter the chain of command so quickly. Central Command needed sure hands guiding its path. He would do his best, just as he had always done. General Markov would expect no less.