Command Me To Be Well [Completed]

7 - In need of an anchor

The Wasps attack at night this time.

It doesn't matter to me in the least. But they don't know it. They only know that in the past it was a successful strategy. They have no idea the jet fighters don't need their eyes anymore. I am their eyes.

Master Auberon gives a little speech before the soldiers take off. Just the usual bullshit, about heroism and hard times. But this time, everyone else takes it seriously. They look at him as if a god was talking to them. It's more than admiration. It's worshipping. They would die for him without thinking twice.

And probably they will. But not today. If everything goes well, I won't let them.

When Master Auberon calls the Wasps soulless monsters, my mouth twitches, but I don't start to argue, of course. If they didn't have a soul, I wouldn't be able to sense them, but he's probably just as aware of it as I am. He just says what's good for the morale. In a way, which is good for the morale.

His voice helps a lot. It's deep, determined and commanding. When he talks about our upcoming victory, the pilots believe him. Without a doubt. And it's only me, who sees him, how wistfully he looks after the last fighter, taking off.

This time I'm the operator from the start. Timur stands by me and helps me.

I promise myself not to go too deep.

Maybe it won't be necessary either. Maybe there will be fewer of them this time. Their human, or rather, insectian resources can't be infinite either.

When the attack arrives, we can't believe our eyes. It's a bigger swarm than ever.

"How is it possible?" whispers Master Auberon somewhere behind my back, standing strictly two steps away from me.

That's my question exactly, but I have neither the strength, nor the time to agree.

When I open the doors of perception, my mind gets flooded at once. Everything is happening too fast. The dots appearing on my inner map are seemingly endless. When I finally rule my urge to let some of them slip out of my mental grasp, an instant headache hits me.

It's so immediate, that it feels like divine a punishment. Sent directly by the absent gods themselves, for trying to see everything. For overstepping the line, by stealing a peek at the infinite. For making an attempt to take over their job. Just like Master Auberon told me, just in all seriousness this time, without a joke.

I spread my arms on the surface of the table. It feels like a fixed point in a world of pain.

I already feel at the end of my endurance, and it only has started. Just when I feel that I'm in control of everything, things get even faster. Almost too fast to follow, not only for me, but for the pilots too. My orders are becoming a bit slurred, but I can't help it. It's not me, it's the events.

Timur praises me in that calm, reassuring voice of his. He tells me that I'm doing well. If he knew exactly what I'm doing at the moment, he'd look for another adjective though, like desperate, or crazy, or something like this. But he can't see what's happening outside the radar's radius.

I'm trying to speak articulately, but I'm a pulsating epicenter of agony. I imagine that I send the pain out of my head, through my brainwaves, and I kill the entire army of wasps in a second. But unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

I also try not to faint. But it's getting harder and harder to refuse the comfort of unconsciousness.

Timur can't help me anymore. He tries to soothe my obvious pain, massaging my back, and holding my hand. Master Auberon is pacing again behind my back, sounding worried. If he is, I can't blame him. The battle doesn't look good for us. Especially if I'm out of it soon.