Champion (Legend 3)

“Relax, kid,” the lab tech says, his voice muffled by the glass. “Just take a deep breath.”

Eden murmurs a faint “okay” in response. He looks so small next to them. His feet don’t even touch the floor. They swing idly while he stares off toward the window separating us, searching for me. I clench and unclench my hands, then press them against the window.

The fate of the entire Republic rests on the shoulders of my kid brother. If Mom, John, or Dad were here, they’d probably laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing is.

“He’s going to be okay,” the lab tech standing next to me mutters in reassurance. He doesn’t sound very convincing. “Today’s procedures shouldn’t cause him any pain. We’re just going to take some blood samples and then give him a few medications. We’ve sent some samples to Antarctica’s lab teams for analysis too.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I snap at him. “Today’s procedures shouldn’t cause him any pain? What about tomorrow’s?”

The lab tech holds his hands up defensively. “I’m sorry,” he stammers. “It came out wrong—I didn’t mean it like that. Your brother won’t be in any pain, I promise. Some discomfort, perhaps, from the medicine, but we’re taking every precaution we can. I, er, I hope you won’t report this negatively to our glorious Elector.”

So, that’s what he’s worried about. That if I’m upset, I’m going to run to Anden and whine. I narrow my eyes at him. “If you don’t give me a reason to report anything bad, then I won’t.”

The lab tech apologizes again, but I’m not paying attention to him anymore. My eyes go back to Eden. He’s asking one of the technicians something, although he’s speaking quietly enough that I can’t hear. The lab tech shakes his head at my brother. Eden swallows, looks back nervously in my direction, and then squeezes his eyes shut. One of the lab techs takes out a syringe, then carefully injects it into the vein of Eden’s arm. Eden clenches his jaw tight, but he doesn’t utter a sound. A familiar dull pain throbs at the base of my neck. I try to calm myself down. Stressing myself out and triggering one of my headaches at a time like this is not going to help Eden.

He chose to do this, I remind myself. I swell with sudden pride. When had Eden grown up? I feel like I blinked and missed it.

The lab tech finally removes the syringe, which is now filled with blood. They dab something on Eden’s arm, then bandage it. The second technician then drops a handful of pills into Eden’s open palm.

“Swallow them together,” he tells my brother. Eden does as he says. “They’re a bit bitter—best to get it all over with at once.”

Eden grimaces and gags a little, but manages to wash the pills down with some water. Then he lies down on the bed. The technicians wheel him over to a cylindrical machine. I can’t remember what the machine’s called, even though they told me less than an hour ago. They slowly roll him inside it, until all I can see of Eden are the balls of his bare feet. I slowly peel my hands off the window. My skin leaves prints on the glass. A minute later, my heart twists in my chest as I hear Eden crying from inside the machine. Something about it must be painful. I clench my teeth so hard that I think my jaw might break.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, one of the lab techs motions for me to come inside. I immediately shove past them and enter the glass chamber to lean over Eden’s side. He’s sitting on the edge of the white bed again. When he hears me approach, he breaks into a smile.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he says to me in a weak voice.

I just take his hand and squeeze it in my own. “You did good,” I reply. “I’m proud of you.” And I am. I’m prouder of him than I’ve ever been of myself—I’m proud of him for standing up to me.

One of the lab techs shows me a screen with what looks like a magnified view of Eden’s blood cells. “A good start,” he tells us. “We’ll work with this and try injecting Tess with a cure tonight. If we’re lucky, she’ll hang in there for another five or six days and give us some time to work with.” The tech’s eyes are grim, even though his words are pretty hopeful. The weird combination makes a chill run down my spine. I grip Eden’s hand tighter.

“We don’t have a lot of time left,” Eden whispers to me when the lab techs leave us to talk in peace. “If they can’t find a cure, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s not something I really want to think about, because it leaves me feeling more helpless than I like. If we don’t find a cure, there won’t be any international military aid. If there’s no aid, then we’ll have no way to win against the Colonies. And if the Colonies overrun us . . . I recall what I saw when I was over there, and remember what the Chancellor had offered me. If you choose, we can work together. The people don’t know what’s best for them. Sometimes you just have to help them along. Isn’t that right?

I need to find a way to stall them while we work on a cure. Anything to slow the Colonies down, to give the Antarcticans a chance to come to our aid. “We’ll just have to fight back,” I tell Eden, ruffling his hair. “Until we can’t fight back anymore. That’s the way it always seems to be, yeah?”

“Why can’t the Republic win?” Eden asks. “I always thought their military was the strongest in the world. This is the first time I actually wish they were right.”