Avenging Angels (The Seraphim Chronicles Book 1) by Nicholas Adams

wall console. “Amy, would you ask Dr. Abraham to come down here please? Tell him I need his expertise on a diagnosis.”
    A voice responded. “Yes, doctor.”
    Nathan turned and addressed the nurse. “Olivia, let’s spray some local anesthetic and an analgesic on the wound to make Mr. Roster more comfortable. Then let’s sterile wrap his arm until Dr. Abraham can consult on this.”
    The nurse gathered sprays and gauze from the cabinet behind the exam table while Nathan turned his attention back to the restless man bouncing on the table.
    “Mr. Roster,” he said, attempting to sound as reassuring as possible. “We’re going to do everything we can to treat you. You just try to relax. We’re going to take good care of you.”
    Olivia prepared the sprays and sterile bandages while Nathan walked out of the room making notes on Mr. Roster’s chart. He walked down the hall to the nurse’s station, positioning himself to intercept Dr. Abraham on his way to the exam room.
    Twenty minutes later an older man, Dr. Saul Abraham, entered the ward dressed in scrubs and a white lab coat. He dressed like most of the practicing medical professionals on Olympus, although his position required less patient interaction and more managerial duties. He believed i the patients felt more comfortable when he dressed like the rest of the doctors.
    “Nathan, what do you have?” he beamed, patting the younger man on the back. Even with this upbeat greeting, a slump in his posture betrayed the fatigue he felt from being in the procedure clinic for ten solid hours overnight.
    Nathan’s expression was grave. Lowering his voice, he pulled Dr. Abraham into an empty examination room, careful not to draw attention from the staff and nearby patients.
    “Saul,” he whispered, desperation carved into his face. “We have another one.”

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    TWELVE
     
     
    On a routine patrol run, Evangeline and her trainee, Daryl Simmonds, soared above the streets of the LTZ that surrounded Olympus. The Low Technology Zone ringed the Olympic Citadel, and consisted of vast agricultural areas, rural townships, as well as a few industrial developments. For the most part people in the LTZ, sometimes known as Zoners, did not want to have anything to do with life in Olympus. The feeling was mutual for the Olympus residents, who looked upon those who dwelled in the LTZ as inferior to themselves. There were the occasional misfit transplants like Jack who found happiness after crossing the barrier between the two differing regions.
    Once in a while, young men and women from the LTZ yearned to experience life away from the farms, ranches, factories, and warehouses, to try and make their way into Olympus and experience all the technological advancements it had to offer. Unless their aptitude tests demonstrated some remarkable talent or ability toward an extraordinary and useful skill, they often wound up in jobs as laborers and servers. Most often, however, these LTZ transplants found themselves joining the ranks of the military.
    Between the influx of youth from the LTZ seeking a higher standard of living and the Angel population. Olympus had an abundant labor force, unlike the scarcity of available labor that plagued the continent in the early years after The Collapse.
    So abundant was the population of Angels living on Olympus, that there was never a shortage of laborers to perform the menial tasks most Olympians felt were beneath them. If an LTZ transplant was fortunate enough to join the military, they received specialized training and an opportunity to go off-world, an experience even most born and raised in Olympus could not say they had enjoyed.
    Daryl Simmonds was an Olympian youth raised in a multi-generation military family. His lineage on his father’s side of the family had made lifelong careers in the military as far back as the Great Recovery. His family expected him to join military service as well, but it was his choice as to how