“What would you like?”
“Novels, newspapers, magazines, it doesn’t matter! Just anything to keep my mind busy.”
“I can do that.” He smiled at her, but she didn’t return it.
“And more chocolate,” she added. “If it isn’t poisoned.”
Chapter Forty-One
Seth stood over the young man on the table. He was Hispanic, around Seth’s age, a veteran of the Iraq War. His name was Frederico, and his left leg was missing from the knee down. Seth couldn’t stop himself from thinking of the day he’d met Jenny. Everett Lawson had run over Jenny’s dog with his red truck that had the stupid flame decals on the sides. Seth had stopped to heal the dog, and in the process grown back the dog’s leg, which had been missing for months or years. That was how Jenny had discovered Seth’s power, and how Seth had really discovered Jenny. He smiled for a moment at the memory.
“Can you do it?” General Kilpatrick asked from the window above, looking down on Seth, Frederico, and the researchers and guards within the big concrete lab.
“I can do it, but I won’t be up for golf afterward,” Seth said. He’d resisted all of Mariella’s attempts to flip him and make him cooperate with Ward, laced with not-very-subtle hints that Seth might be welcomed into Mariella’s bed if he did. Today, though, Ward had played a dirty trick on him.
ASTRIA had brought in a pool of severely wounded war veterans, amputees and others with injuries that couldn’t be fixed by medical science. One of Ward’s assistants, a thuggish-looking guy named Buchanan, had brought a digital tablet down to Seth’s cell and held it up to the window, showing him all the wounded who’d been brought with the promise of a new, experimental kind of medicine that could fully heal them. The veterans, mostly young men and women his age, were waiting anxiously, their faces showing faint glimmers of hope under masks of grim resignation.
Seth knew he’d feel guilty if he sent them away without helping, so he’d agree to call a truce with Ward long enough to heal them. It had been a difficult decision for Seth, because he knew that his cooperation was exactly what Ward wanted, but he decided that he couldn’t turn down the chance to help these people. He still wore an orange jumpsuit, and he would still be returned to his cell afterward. It had been interesting to finally leave the cell, though, and see how much the base had changed since last time around. More computers, fewer swastikas, white tile instead of concrete. Some of the guards wore specially designed biohazard armor, complete with air filters and oxygen bottles, to protect them against those with a paranormal touch.
Now, Frederico looked up at Seth from the stretcher, looking confused.
“Nobody explained what you’re going to do. It’s not another surgery?” Frederico asked. “I don’t see any equipment.”
“I can’t really explain it myself,” Seth told him. “Everybody ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he took a deep breath and lay both hands on the young man’s leg stump. He closed his eyes and pushed the healing energy into him to speed things along.
Seth felt it draining out of him, weakening him. He opened his eyes to see Frederico gaping at the sight of his leg. Long, thin tentacles grew out from his knee. Two of them stiffened like wires, forming the framework of his tibia and fibula, finally meeting to form a sketchy framework, the little bones of Frederico’s new ankle. Others lashed around the bone, forming muscle and tendon.
Frederico crossed himself and whispered a rapid “Our Father” in Spanish.
Seth grew weaker and weaker as the bones and muscles thickened and the new foot formed itself from thin air. It wasn’t exactly thin air, Seth knew. All the fat on Seth’s body was already gone, leaving fine details of his own veins and muscles visible under his skin. His muscle tissue was starting to burn away, too, but he held on and kept healing.
Less than a minute later, the young man’s new leg was complete, and Seth collapsed onto the tiled floor. Two guards hurried over to lift him up.
“How?” Frederico spoke in an awed whisper, wiggling his toes. The new leg didn’t match the other one perfectly, because the new skin was baby-soft and hairless. Frederico stared at it, his eyes huge. “How is this possible? You didn’t do anything! Are you touched by God?” Frederico gaped at Seth.
“Urggh, food,” Seth mumbled, half-unconscious. “Take me to food.”
The guards and a lab tech helped him into a wheelchair. Seth’s head nodded forward as they rolled away. He heard Frederico’s voice, shouting his thanks again and again, somewhere behind him like a distant echo.