Halfblood Heritage

by Rheaume, Laura

“Well, that makes more sense, but this is a book of poetry.”

  “Yeah, well...this guy, Jir Dem On, was a famous swordsman about, I don’t know, six hundred years ago, wait...no, it was seven hundred and twenty years ago...Anyway, have you heard of him?”

  Smoke gave him a "You know damn well I haven’t" glare and picked up his fork to stab at some cabbage salad.

  “Okay, sorry. Anyway, he was this amazing swordsman, but kind of a philosopher, too, and a craftsman. He studied in many other areas, too, especially after he turned forty; one of them was literature.”

  Smoke reached over and grabbed a few fried potatoes and popped some of them in his mouth. “Okay,” he said, motioning with more of the thin, pointy roots for Scythe to continue.

  “So, he wrote poetry and essays, some about warfare and swordsmanship, but also about philosophy, and even more mundane things like how to train your wife…”

  “Now that sounds like it might be worthwhile…”

  “And taking care of your finances...things like that. Anyway, I have a couple of his books, thanks to Rend, really old copies, too. They are probably worth a fortune. If you want to borrow one…”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. Another interesting thing about this Jir Dem On was that he was paranoid about eating healthy. He only ate what he grew himself or cooked himself. It kind of reminded me of living with the Humans, because Humans are obsessed with their health.”

  “It’s probably the fear of extinction subconsciously expressing itself.”

  “Yeah, right.” Scythe grinned and then continued, “They are always watching what they eat, and their diets are so strict. When I was there, I had to write down everything that passed my lips. They take all kinds of pills and they are always seeing the doctor. I had checkups twice a month!”

  “Were you sick?”

  “I never got sick.”

  “That is insanity. Why did you need to get checked that often?”

  “I have no idea, but my doctor always took blood, reviewed my diet journal, and did a full physical.”

  “They must have a million doctors, if they are checking everyone out like that all the time.”

  “I guess. They even watch shows about either keeping from getting sick, what to do when you’re sick, or feeling bad about other people who are sick. Everywhere you go, there are little public messages that remind you to get checked out. But they are never sick.”

  A pause. “He gave you shots?”

  “Every time. It was a woman doctor.”

  “So, a woman comes in twice a month, checking you out and giving you injections?”

  “Yeah. What about it?” He frowned at Smoke’s peculiar expression.

  “Did you ever have any other types of procedures or operations?”

  “No, why?”

  “Well, why would they go to all the trouble of kidnapping Kin to experiment on and not take advantage of one more halfblood they had right there?”

  Scythe stared at him. “Do you think she was experimenting on me the whole time?” The idea made him feel sick. “What do you think she was doing?”

  “Who knows, but we can get our doctors to check you out and see if there is anything suspicious.”

  “It is so obvious. How could I not notice?”

  “Because it was all you knew, right? This woman, if she was involved in your experiment, then she would know about the others, right? We need to have your people check her out, follow her.”

  “We’ve got to get permission to go to the camp, so I can let Lena and Ian know. This might lead us right to the missing Kin.”

  Chapter 11

  “Watch yourself, Mismatch.”

  Scythe nodded sharply once, although he hardly needed the reminder. He slid out of the shade and into the sun, and his boots cracked louder than he liked over the loose rock. He made sure to walk slowly, and his hands went up well before they spotted him.

  “My name is Simon. I’ve orders to report to Lena or Ian Young,” he announced clearly in Human as soon as he was close enough for the two armed guards at the gate to hear.

  “Hold it there!” He recognized them from his last visit: the stout one and the redhead, Han. That was a piece of bad luck.

  Eyeing the weapons that were trained on him, Scythe nodded, stopped and waited. He tried to look as young as he could, which was tough since his fourteen-year-old body was going through yet another growth spurt.

  The shorter soldier touched his hand to his helmet to report, and Scythe recognized the tinny voice that answered as that of the one who had searched him last time, “Hold on. I’ll be right there. Don’t do anything.”

  The redhead stepped forward. “Freeze!” he barked forcefully.

  Since he hadn’t moved, Scythe blinked at him and started to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Lay down and spread ‘em, freak.”

  Scythe looked over at the second guard, who had begun to smile, before obeying.

  “Don’t you move a damn inch.”

  Scythe instinctively pulled out a cold cloak to drape over his body and began to take slow, measured breaths. Footsteps crunched over the gravel, circling him and then stopping by his feet. “I’m gonna check him out. Watch him good.”

  “Ryan said...”

  “Hostiles need to be checked.”

  His partner shook his head, although he hadn’t lost his grin, “You know he’s with…”

  “I believe the standing orders are that any Kin is to be searched and bound. I’m just following procedure.”

  Han started by knocking Scythe’s legs further apart, then kicking along his legs from hip to feet, inside and out. “He’s pretty solid. I didn’t trust him before and I really don’t trust him now. Look, he’s not even affected.”

  Scythe was working hard on holding himself still. What he wanted to do was put the redhead on his butt in the dirt, but he wasn’t about to mess around with that rifle; that wouldn’t have qualified as careful to his team.

  Suddenly, he grunted and his body jumped involuntarily when a sharp pain bit down on his lower back. He took a slow, deep breath, ground his teeth and blinked the reaction tears out of his eyes.

  A cackling laugh sounded from behind him, “Oops, dropped my gun. Sorry, fella. Did that hurt?”

  Scythe felt the tip of the gun press harder against his sore back. Instinctively, his body stiffened, but he froze when he heard a familiar clicking sound.

  “What’s this? Looks like resistance to me. Does it look like resistance to you, Dean?”

  Dean laughed. “No.”

  “Well, you’re just too far off to see it. He’s getting ready to move.”

  Scythe breathed out, trying to relax despite the pain.

  “That’s right, back down little doggie, or I’ll hit your nose with a newspaper.”

  “Look, you better back off before Sarge gets here, or your ass will be toast.”

  “I know. I’m just letting a little steam off. No hard feelings, right, Simon?”

  Scythe answered, knowing full well he should have just stayed quiet, “Actually, I’m going to go ahead and hold a grudge, if you don’t mind.”

  “You threatening me?”

  Thinking of the information he needed to get to Lena, Scythe blew the air out of his mouth and stayed silent.

  A voice rang across the camp at them, “Han! What are you doing, you stupid ass? Back away right now!” At the same time, a startled Han jerked, and his finger pulled on the sensitive trigger.

  Everyone shuddered at the loud bang, and then it was eerily quiet. A sharp, stabbing pain began to spread from a point in his lower back outward, and Scythe immediately smelled his own blood.

  The low moan that leaked out of Scythe was overrun by a panicked voice, “He was resisting! He was threatening me!”

  Scythe started to walk down a slippery path.

  More feet began knocking up small pebbles and suddenly there was a whole mess of noise around
them. Ryan had to raise his voice to be heard above the ruckus.

  “You! Get the medic and radio for transport immediately! Han, turn in your weapon and report to my office, stat. Charlie, help me move him inside, quick. You four are on the gate, lock it up.”

  Scythe’s body was jarred painfully when they flipped him over, and he screamed in protest. Grabbing his arms and legs, they lifted him up and carried him into the camp. The dizziness took hold of him again, and his head lolled to the side. He spotted his brothers before the gate closed, far down the road: five shadows in the shadows of the woods.

  Strangely calm, he commented, “They’re not gonna like this.”

  Misunderstanding, the man on his legs chuckled, “You got that right.”

  “Hold on, boy, we got ya,” urged the sergeant.

  The second man said, “Okay, does he count as one of us? ‘Cause there’s this bet going around...”

  “Is there one man here who is not an idiot? I just want one, for heaven’s sake...”

  “Sorry, Sir. Shutting up now.”

  Ryan’s face suddenly thrust in front of him, blocking out everything else. “Okay, I want you to hold on. Listen to my voice. We got a couple of real good doctors close by and they’re gonna patch you up, no problem.”

  That reminded Scythe of something that was bothering him, something he was supposed to do, no, to tell, someone. Maybe it was this guy he had to tell. He was talking just like that other person did. When they laid him on the bed and rolled him onto his stomach, he reached out and grabbed the sergeant.

  “It’s the doctor I’m worried about. You gotta watch my doctor.”

  “Don’t you worry a bit, we got the best doctors you can find...”

  “Just...just tell her, please.”

  “Tell who? Lena Young? She’s on her way, I radioed her when you showed up.”

  Two medics jostled the soldiers to the side; one placed something over Scythe’s face while the other ripped at his shirt. Free of his burden, he closed his eyes, strangely excited to recognize his old friend, nothing.

  -----------

  Scythe was moving, and the gentle rolling made his head spin. Or maybe it was something else that was making him so nauseous. He was grateful that the pain was gone, but everything felt uncomfortably fuzzy. Things didn’t sound or smell right either.

  “He’s awake, I think. His metabolism is running right through the stuff we gave him.”

  “Already? Give him another, then. I want him out.”

  A cold needle jabbed him in the arm, and a strange chill began to spread under his skin. The truck slowed and then stopped with a jerk. Scythe felt a distant pang in his back when the gurney he was tied to shook and then bumped into the medic seated next to him.

  “Why are we stopping? It’s another twenty minutes at least...”

  “No idea. Hey, Frank, what’s the holdup?”

  The voices were coming down a long corridor now: “I don’t know, some kind of bullshit.” The driver said louder, “What’s this? We’re transporting a patient with an emergency to...”

  A deep voice commanded, “Step out of the vehicle.”

  Clicking sounds and gasps and the tangy smell of sweat. Scythe pried his heavy eyelids open, trying to see.

  The doors to the truck opened up, showering them with an excruciating light. Scythe let his eyes fall all the way shut, but too late, unfortunately, to miss seeing the masks.

  -----------

  Whirring machines with their incessant chirping joined the barely audible, high pitched whining sounds that filled the room. Then, a welcome sound drew his attention that was not made by the grinding together of tiny pieces of metal, but by breath through a warm body.

  Human. A man was speaking Human. Short, sharp and impatient was the voice that had awoken him.

  “Let him sleep. What do I care? It’s easier for us all, and quieter, when they stay unconscious.”

  “Yes, doctor, but what I’m saying is that I think he’s already waking,” a second voice responded timidly. “His vitals show...” She broke off, swallowing. “Sorry, doctor. I...”

  “You are still young, so I’ll cut you a break this one time. I don’t want to be told their status unless it directly pertains to my research. Does his being awake pertain to my research?”

  At the mention of research, Scythe’s heart beat faster. Close by, a computerized beeping matched pace with it. Where am I?

  “No, doctor,” her voice was resigned.

  “You can keep him sedated all the time, or not. I don’t care, as long as it isn’t disruptive. They lay there, they respond or they don’t, we record. That’s it. Now, if there is some complication from the operation or an infection or reaction, then call me.” The man left the room, his shoes echoing down the hall outside.

  Scythe tried to orient himself. He thought, I was shot, and then some people were taking me...I think for help...and then...He sucked in a breath, remembering the masks of the soldiers who opened the back of the truck, pointing their weapons at the medics, two of their numbers grabbing the gurney.

  His eyes flew open, and he groaned out loud, “Oh, no.” No, no, this can’t be...

  The nurse was standing by his bed, her eyes wide and her lips left open after a short gasp. She recovered from her shock, clamping her mouth shut and turning with an effort to check the machines next to him.

  Scythe looked around at a medium sized room with three beds besides his own. Two Kin men lay unconscious in the beds closest to him, their bodies limp and their faces gaunt. A third Kin man watched Scythe, blinking as if confused. All of them looked emaciated and old; their hair was thin and faces blotchy. Like Scythe, each was tied to the beds with hand, feet and chest straps, all of which had left the skin underneath bruised or covered with red sores. He recognized drip bags as well as the same articles for collecting waste that he had seen in the infirmary in Poinsea. A feeding tube was attached to each man’s chest. The smell disgusted Scythe: old sweat, recently soured milk, the overwhelming smell of bodily fluids and another kind of odor that reeked of illness. All of it was unsuccessfully covered up with chemical cleaner and air freshener.

  The room was sparsely furnished with just the beds, three or four monitoring devices, and a small table with a display and data pad. In the corner, a treadmill was equipped with straps for the wrists. A door next to the second bed hosted a sign that indicated a lavatory. Scythe turned his head and looked fully at the young nurse that he guessed was barely older than twenty.

  “Where am I?” he asked her, trying again to look young, innocent and pathetic.

  Her expression changed when she looked at his face to one of pity and regret. He felt a moment of hope, thinking of another woman who had risked herself to help the Kin. “You’re in the hospital, honey. How are you feeling?”

  “Not so good. I...I was shot.”

  “Yes, right in the back and it made a real mess of your intestines, I’m told. Are you in pain?”

  “Yeah, it really does hurt. Am I gonna be all right?”

  “Absolutely. We had our best surgeon working on you for hours, and she said you will be fine as long as you rest.”

  “Can...can I see my family soon? I’m scared,” he probed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, but you can’t leave here and no one ever comes to visit. You’ll have to wait until you are checked out. Don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of you, okay?”

  Scythe glanced over at the other men, asking, “Who are they?”

  “Those are other patients here at the hospital. They’re recovering, too, just like you.”

  “I didn’t know there was a Kin hospital.”

  “It’s a special one. Now, do you want something to eat?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, I’ll get you something.”

  “Why am I tied up?”

  “Well, you are very fragile with that injury. We don’t want you moving; you might tear something up and that would be a lot of work for the docto
r.”

  The lie was so close to her version of the truth that he could hardly perceive it. That was what scared him about Humans. Lie until you believed it.

  “Well, how will I eat?”

  “I’ll feed you. Now, just rest. I’ll be right back.” She strode to the data pad and began entering information. “I’m ordering you some broth and ice cream. How does that sound?”

  “Good, thanks, ma’am. Um, is there any way some of the machines could be covered up or turned off? It really hurts my ears.”

  “That is common at first. After a while, you’ll just get used to it. I’ll see if I can get you something in the meantime...”

  The door swung open suddenly, and Scythe recognized the scent at the same time he turned his head to see his old doctor stride in.

  “Doctor Mendus!” he said. He didn’t even have to pretend to be shocked.

  “Hello, Simon. It is so good to see you again. I was so disappointed when you were sent on that crazy goose chase to the bordertowns. I adamantly opposed sending such a young child to that dangerous place, and it looks like I was right, wasn’t I?”

  She held out her hand expectantly, and the nurse hurried to place a datapad in it. She checked it over quickly and then looked up at Scythe. “It looks like you are going to be fine, but we’re going to watch you closely, especially for infection. Although, you heal quickly...”

  Scythe tried to think of a time that he had been injured when he lived with the Humans and couldn’t. “I do?”