A live orchestra played from a large bandshell near the end of the park. Politicians and business elites gathered in tiny herds, politely smiling and socialising, glasses of champagne and wine in hand.
Mercy arrived, dressed in the tunic for public affairs. She looked around for Joan as she accepted a glass of champagne from a roving waitress. The Sanctuary’s ritual of drinking in the evenings had grown on her quickly.
In a nearby corner of the garden, Joan stood with Senator Arjun. The Senator was angrily jabbing a sharp finger in Joan’s direction. Joan remained calm, taking the virtual punches without reaction. She said something in response; something the Senator clearly didn’t like. His poxy face turned a bright red, eyes bulged, and nose jutted towards her as he moved in to reiterate his point. Joan glanced over her shoulder and spotted Mercy. Politely putting a hand in the air, she excused herself, leaving him shaking with fury. He immediately spun on his heels and stormed away.
‘The Senator seemed upset?’ Mercy felt the question acceptable between new friends.
‘Senator Arjun would like a private meeting with you. I’ve told him the Prime would need to approve it.’
‘Me, why?’ Mercy sounded surprised.
‘He wouldn’t say. Well, he said it was above my rank and how dare I question him,’ Joan shrugged her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll let the Prime know, and they can sort it out between themselves.’
‘Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?’
Joan placed a hand on Mercy’s back and turned her towards the Northern sky. ‘Mercy, don’t worry about Senator Arjun. His problems shouldn’t concern you. Now, watch this…’
A familiar low reverberating metal drumming shook her bones as the Solar Wave approached.
‘The Aurora is about to start,’ announced Joan, her eyes lit with excitement.
The entire balcony of partygoers went silent. The band stopped playing. Anticipation was heavy and infectious as people started gathering around the garden’s infinity edge. Roars of celebration suddenly rang out from the city behind the Tower where the Aurora had already begun.
Mercy caught first sight of the spectacle as the crowd around her began oohing and ahhing. Faint streaks of green and white light crept across the sky, growing more intense with each vibration of the Solar Wave. Suddenly, the green lights turned to blood-red rivers racing over their heads, followed by a tidal wave of sapphire blue.
The orchestra burst into sound, delighting the revellers. Music and colour exploded into an otherworldly dance of luminance and mystical songs. It was a spectacle so intense that Mercy could feel the colours under her skin and deep behind her eyes. Her body felt lighter and airy as if she might float.
Twenty minutes later, the lights faded and slowly slipped away as the sky returned to starlit black heaven. The audience burst into applause.
Joan leaned into Mercy’s ear and spoke over the noise, ‘The public will be celebrating in the city; parades, street dances, it will go on all night. It’s not just a beautiful show; it’s also a reminder of what the Shade does for us. We celebrate the founders who created the Shade, and we remember to be grateful for the food and nature it provides.’
‘Thanks for inviting me,’ replied Mercy, her eyes still glowing.
‘The Prime has already left for public appearances. We’ve been invited to join the Senators for dinner if you’d like.’
‘And Chase?’
Concern replaced Joan’s smile. The two women passed a knowing look between each other that required no words.
After a brief pause, Joan spoke tenderly. ‘Be careful Mercy, public tolerance for hybrids hasn’t quite caught up with interracial couples. A Pure and a C10 together…well, unofficially, it’s still frowned upon by many. It’s best not to draw attention to yourself.’
Mercy blushed. ‘I…did not mean to suggest…’ she stammered, then stopped herself — no point hiding what was becoming apparent. ‘Thank you. Understood.’
‘Let’s head down. We’re in private dining,’ instructed Joan.
Dinner with the Senators started with obligatory questions and condolences on her accident. ‘How unfortunate…’ ‘It’s rare to be attacked in the wild…’ ‘Nature can be unpredictable…’.
Mercy curiously noted the delicate avoidance of the word ‘animal’ – animals can be unpredictable; it’s rare animals attack – statements not made. The subtle choice of wording, or avoiding certain words, defined the difference between animals as hybrids and animals in nature.
As the five-course dinner dragged on, Mercy felt her body and mind grow heavy and tired. Her chest still sore, she excused herself before dessert, requesting to revisit the Sky Park on her own for some fresh air. Joan agreed.
Waiters scurried about the rooftop garden clearing away glasses and plates and tearing down stands. Mercy found a private corner behind the orchestra’s stage where she could be alone. Looking out across the bustling city, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of Chase. She imagined him carrying her through the woods, more glamour than blood. Her head pressed against his broad shoulders and chest, weightless in his arms. Perhaps the alcohol clouded her judgement, but she finally gave in to the warm feeling inside. A fantasy started building in her mind where the only part of Chase that mattered was his touch.
Stop thinking of him! She ordered herself in vain.
A gust of wind stroked her back.
‘Doctor Mercy Perching,’ came a deep male voice from behind her.
Mercy spun around and gasped. A full-grown male avian hybrid stood before her. Two large raven-black wings mounted on his back, curved up over his muscular shoulders and rounded downward where wingtips fell below his waist. His feet, uncovered, had scales for skin, and eagle-like talons on his toes. Unlike the bird-child, his face appeared human, except for the yellow irises of his eyes, now piercing through her.
‘Who are you,’ cried Mercy, gripped with terror.
‘You’ll know soon enough. We don’t have much time. There is a war coming, an army forming, and you are in danger.’
A sudden noise on the far side of the stage caught his attention. He spread his wings.
‘What have I got to do with any of this?’ she pleaded.
‘Trust no one until we talk again. No one,’ commanded the bird-man. ‘It’s not safe here, but we’ll meet again.’
His enormous wings outstretched, he eclipsed the horizon behind him. In one powerful thrust, he left the ground and soared up into the air. The sound of beating wings fading away left Mercy standing alone, her heart beating wildly.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The halls blurred as Mercy raced towards her quarters, heart still punching at her chest after the terrifying encounter with the black-winged man. Careening around the corner of the lobby outside the living quarters, Mercy slammed into Chase. Instinctively he reached out. His firm grip clasped her arms and stopped a nasty fall backwards. Mercy went limp in his embrace, visibly shocked.
‘I’m not that scary, am I?’ Chase joked, a playful grin on his face.
‘Chase, no, of course not.’ She unravelled her body from his paws and straightened herself, combing her tossed hair back behind her ears.
‘Why the rush?’ he asked with a slight slur.
‘Chase, have you been drinking?’
‘No. Maybe, well a little,’ he smiled again, looking a bit unsteady. ‘Aurora celebrations, you know.’ He tried hard to sound less fuddled.
‘Of course,’ Mercy nodded and managed a smile in return. ‘Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ she said hurriedly, trying to leave.
‘But you see me now,’ he joked.
His boyish humour and alcohol-induced honesty forced her to laugh. ‘Yes, I do see you.’
‘Admit it, I scare you,’ he blurted out, his ears rolling backwards, giving her his puppy dog eyes.<
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‘No, you don’t,’ she insisted, wanting her sincerity to get through his clouded awareness. ‘But I do think you need to get to bed. Let me help you.’
Mercy walked Chase around the same corridor three times before he remembered the location of his apartment. She suspected his memory loss was intentional. Chase gave the command to open his door and stepped forward, but immediately spun around on his heels, facing Mercy. ‘I bet you thought I couldn’t find my apartment.’
Mercy leaned a shoulder up against the outside wall. ‘Well, it did seem that way.’
‘Maybe I wanted a little more time.’
‘Maybe I did too,’ her eyes cast down, looking away from him. Her confession surprised her, but she didn’t want to be alone.
He leaned in. Mercy put her hand on his chest to hold him at bay. ‘Chase, you’re inebriated. You don’t know what you’re doing.’
‘Hold that thought.’ He ran into his apartment, shuffled around for a few minutes and returned, stable. ‘Alcohol metabolising enzymes. I’ll be completely sober in five more minutes.’
The boyish grin again. Mercy looked anxious, caught. They stood in silence, close enough to feel each other’s body heat without touching. His approaching sobriety returned his more constrained nature.
‘But you don’t have to stay,’ his said a trifle anxiously.
She started to lean towards him but hesitated. He held his position of chivalry, gave her the lead. Her gaze met his piercing blue eyes. Against all the odds and peculiarity of their union, she couldn’t understand how, but she wanted him.
He looked up and down the hall, ensuring nobody was around, pulled her into his apartment, and closed the door.
Chase’s ears pricked high on his head, and his pupils retracted with intent. He leaned nearer and nearer with lips parted. His breath moved into her first. The warm, moist flesh of his lips against hers sent pleasure down to her bones. He felt as human as any man she had been with before, and desire overtook her mind. She drew him in, each meeting the other’s movement with perfect balance. Her cheeks went flush. The kisses grew uncontrollable. Chase pulled away reluctantly, gently holding her hand, and walked her to his bedroom.
Very slowly, with a cautious hand, she started to unbutton his shirt. He looked vulnerable, but his eyes begged her to continue. Suddenly she let out a gasp, pulling away. There, below his brawny male chest, six other nipples lined his abdomen, like a dog.
‘Are you nervous?’ His question was tender, understanding the source of her resistance.
‘Yes,’ she answered honestly.
‘Don’t be. It’s the law that all humans and hybrids alike are the same under the belt,’ he assured her. Chase held Mercy close, pressing his entire body into hers, revealing his hard, enlarged sameness as all other men.
Mercy’s body surged forward. She wanted more but pulled back.
‘It’s not just that.’ Her eyes turned down towards the ground, hesitant.
Chase refused to let her drift away.
‘Don’t worry; I’m sterilised. All C10s are at birth.’ He said it matter-of-factly.
‘Chase, I’m sorry,’ she said tenderly, drawing her face up, meeting his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to say…I mean, that doesn’t sound fair.’
‘Don’t worry about me. Besides,’ he continued light of heart, ‘it means we can have more fun.’
He grinned boyishly and held her close. Wrapping her arms around his sinewy back, she felt a strip of fur on his spine, stretching from the base of his neck to his firm buttocks. She stroked the dense fur undercoat covered in coarse, thick overhairs. He arched in pleasure, pressing his chest even harder into hers, his kiss more intense.
They lay on his bed, undressed, and became one. Chase moved inside her and gently rocked with pleasure. Mercy arched her back, meeting the ebb and tide of his thrust. Twenty minutes passed as if seconds. His heart beat faster, and his pace quickened. Lips curled back he let out a growl, exposing his sharp incisors, designed for killing and protecting in equal measure. His blades aroused Mercy as one final push from Chase released both their final desires simultaneously. They remained twisted as one, collapsed in a heap of flesh and fur.
Chase rolled his ears back, breathed heavily on her chest, and held her close. She was his, part of his pack, a bond deep and old, instinctive.
Mercy allowed herself to be treasured but privately wondered if she had made the right choice. These thoughts could wait until the morning, she told herself. For tonight, she felt safe again, and she slipped into a much-needed sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Mercy woke to the sounds of Chase opening his closet.
‘Sorry, I’ve slept in.’ She offered, pulling herself into a sitting position — a dream of something already forgotten left a strange melancholy.
‘It’s still early. But you’ll need to get up soon. I have you scheduled for live culture testing. I’m sure you’ll want to get a head start.’
‘Yes, of course,’ replied Mercy slightly taken back by his abrupt dismissal.
Chase read her mind, jumped on the bed, hovered over her on all fours and jokingly barked, a terrible human imitation of a dog’s bark at that. Mercy cringed.
‘Too soon?’ quipped Chase.
‘Yes,’ she laughed, pushing him aside, ‘too soon.’
‘Let me show you Sanctuary City tonight,’ he pleaded. ‘You can’t go back without seeing everything.’
The words ‘go back’ hurt her. ‘Chase, I don’t think it’s wise. I’m not here for fun. And won’t it draw unnecessary attention?’
His brow melted into sadness. The words ‘draw attention’ hurt him. Mercy wanted to apologise, instantly take it back.
He pondered, ‘Probably right.’ Lifting himself off the bed, he continued dressing. ‘So…let’s invite Ambassador Joan,’ he smirked, ‘make it an official trip, a cultural education.’
He retrieved trousers from the closet and slipped them on. Mercy felt a surge of lust on seeing his firm backside clench as he pulled his pants up.
‘Yes, I would like to see the city,’ she teased.
He looked over his shoulder at her, waiting.
‘– with you,’ she conceded, flirting awkwardly.
Pleased with her response, he signalled the beginning of their morning. ‘Right, serious matters ahead,’ he announced stone-faced as if their time together had gone on too long.
The Infectious Disease Facility resided on floor minus thirty, deep below the old city, built before the days of sun control. The sign overhead read DANGER. BIOHAZARD. AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY. Behind heavy surveillance, reinforced steel doors, and a hermetically sealed ceramic barrier, sixty-foot-long freezers lined the outer walls of the vast two-storey-tall bunker. Inside the cold storage units, shelved and filed diseases filled rows upon rows of glass tubes, labelled and laid to rest under fluorescent green lights; frozen in cryogenic infinity.
High on the west-facing wall, behind a thick protective window, and under a cold dead light, Mercy stood looking down on the storage lab. In the centre of the room, trays of empty glass test tubes, microwaves, and gyroscopic mixers sat on steel tables. Nearby, parked in holding ramps, twenty robotic arms, able to perform precise surgical movements, sat waiting for instruction.
Mercy’s lab assistant, a raccoon-woman with bandit’s eyes, waved her hand in the air. A virtual control centre activated over the giant window. Below them, the lab had suddenly come to life. Bright lights lit up over the tables, and the robots levitated off their stands, fingers pointed upward as if in a salute. After a brief introduction to the system, Mercy placed her hands into the holographic panel and started moving the mechanical assistants below.
The hours passed quickly. Morning turned to an early night. Mercy made faster progress than she had expected but still didn’t have the answers she needed.
‘Doctor Mercy, you have one hour before dinner with Ambassador Joan and Doctor Chase in Sanctuary City,’ interrupted Hope.
Mercy let out a profound sigh, stretched her arms over her head, and took a step away from the control panel.
‘Well, I’m almost done here,’ she announced reluctantly. ‘I’ve given further instruction to lab PVA, which should keep it busy through the night,’ she shared with the racoon-woman assistant.
The assistant nodded, her pricked silver ears twitched. ‘You’ll be notified as soon as the results come in, Doctor.’
Mercy thanked her and headed back to her quarters to prepare for dinner with Chase and Joan.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Middle Town was recovered from the remnants of the original Sanctuary City, before the Scorch and Shade. Built on ground level; it separated Upper and Lower Towns. It’s brick and stone buildings, scarred by centuries of urban decay, housed restaurants, bars, and clubs of various repute.
On the streets, crowds of Human and Chimera revellers weaved through the colourful markets and mingled outside hovering food carts. Larger-than-life holographic billboards, lit in neon-lights, tussled for their attention offering temptations of food, drink, and fun.
Overhead, strung like spider webs from building to building, layers of glass travellators pulsated with eager party goers and joy seekers abandoned to the evening.
Inside, the restaurant was bustling. Dinner with Joan and Chase neared an end. Mercy was relieved to have finished without incident. Chase snuck a few secret glances, and she reciprocated with a knowing grin and scolding shake of her head. But overall, nobody seemed to catch on to their affair; not even Joan.
As the waiter served the last of the wine, the mood shifted. Chase caught Joan’s eye and nodded towards her. She raised one eyebrow, uncertain. After a few moments, she pushed her wine glass away and leaned into the table towards Mercy, secretive.
‘Mercy, I shouldn’t be telling you this. But Chase believes you deserve to know the details behind your invitation to come to the Sanctuary. What I’m sharing with you needs to stay between us.’
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