by Alix Nichols
“Haddu, sweetheart, shush!” Disree pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes darting to the children.
“He’s a shapeshifter,” Marye said. “But he has memory issues and trouble controlling his gift.”
Disree sat back, tears welling into her eyes. “Sweet Aheya above.”
“What animal?” Sir Gokk asked, calmer now. “I’ve read wolves are the most common ones.”
“He’s a dragon.”
It was Sir Gokk’s turn to lean back and blink, astounded.
“I’ve seen him change with my own eyes,” Marye said. “More than once.”
He surveyed her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, and then went on to recount the Sovyda discovery, which opened the possibility that the Origin Myth and other Ra dragon myths weren’t myths.
When she was done, Disree touched her hand. “Anything else you want to tell us, child?”
“Oh, yes, I almost forgot! Boggond’s interest in antiques has become a real hobby. He’s asked Father to show him certain items first. Father plans to take me along next time.” She gave Disree’s hand a squeeze. “We’re expecting an arrival early next week. If you still have no news by then, I’ll ask Boggond.”
“Thank you,” Sir Gokk said.
“What I meant was…” Disree searched Marye’s face. “Is there anything you want to tell us about you and Geru?”
Ever since Momma passed, Disree, who’d been Momma’s bosom friend, had become a mother figure to Marye. She’d confessed to Marye once how she dreamed of a union between her and Geru, and what a great couple they’d make.
Just like that time, Marye felt her cheeks and ears flame.
“Did my son…?” Sir Gokk trained his piercing eyes on Marye. “Have the two of you…?”
She shook her head, looking down at her hands. The things Geru and she had done together were too private, too raw to admit. Even to imply. They wouldn’t reflect well on him. For all his parents knew, Geru was still in love with Etana to whom he’d proposed shortly before causing her death.
She looked up. “No, we haven’t. I’ve told you all there is.”
“If he is what you say he is, do you think he might be able to turn in his cell and break free?” Sir Gokk asked.
“I can only hope so,” Marye said. “The problem is, the last time I saw him, he had no memory of his changing. Right now, he isn’t aware of what he’s capable of.”
Disree sniffed, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.
“Are you done speculating yet?” Karri called, pointing to Benty. “He wants to go to you, Ma.”
“Yes!” Disree opened her arms. “Benty, baby, come here.”
The boy ran into her arms, and then the twins pulled their blanket closer.
Fifteen minutes later, the Gokks headed back home and Marye rushed to the shop.
She had to finish her share of the day’s business correspondence and then come up with a plausible story to explain to Father her second absence of the day. Tonight, she was making a secret trip to the contaminated zone to visit her fugitive friend.
Timm Itkis had asked a hefty price for the “unique, unforgettable experience of wearing a spacesuit and visiting a functioning fallout shelter.” Nothing Marye couldn’t afford, of course, but still. The budding businesswoman in her had almost told him to go to hell before she reminded herself she needed this visit.
She’d been keeping too many things secret. Important, life-changing things. Things that truly mattered. Now with Geru’s arrest, it was suddenly too much.
Truth was Marye needed to share her burden with someone she could trust. Someone who’d understand and wouldn’t judge her. Someone she could ask embarrassing questions. In short, she needed a private, one-on-one chat with Nyssa, her closest female friend on Hente.
When Timm delivered her to the Refuge, Marye’s mouth gaped at the massive size and sturdiness of the shelter carved into Mandell Rock. But inside, the formidable place was filled with such everyday domesticity, Marye couldn’t help grinning through her turmoil.
Jancel was sawing up a plank into what looked like floorboards. Nyssa was brushing varnish onto the ones that were ready. Honey-colored, flower-smelling, and probably flame-retardant, too, the varnish had to be a concoction of Dame Heidd’s. Jancel’s mother was a genius with stuff like that. Right now, she was dusting and misting a collection of potted plants.
Spotting Marye, Nyssa screamed, jumped up and down, and then almost choked her friend with an over-enthusiastic hug.
“I see you keep busy here,” Marye said when the greetings were done.
“Mother and Nyssa would like to make this place more like a home.” Jancel wiped his forehead with a humid cloth. “But to me, it already feels like a luxury inn compared to my four years in the trenches during the Teteum invasion.”
Marye pointed to the table with pots. “I had no idea plants could grow in a place without natural light!”
“Some can. The snake plant, the spider plant,” Dame Heidd said, pointing out the most remarkable ones, “even the sword lily.”
“With the right care and fertilizer, they can thrive in the light of power candles,” Nyssa said.
Dame Heidd’s face lit up with pride. It looked like the old woman had found herself not only a daughter but also a student.
“This bunch are going to get even busier when the printing machine and the supplies arrive next week,” Timm said.
Marye clapped her hands with delight. Together with a few Association members she’d co-funded level-two equipment for a printing shop. It was going to be installed in the Refuge in order to mass-produce pamphlets. With the Endorsement Vote fast approaching, Boggond’s propaganda machine was in full swing, funded by the LOR Post-War Reconstruction Aid Program. Oh, the irony!
The Association needed to ramp up its own efforts and fast.
Areg’s audio talks were a boon, but his message would be easier to spread in the form of leaflets. Posters, booklets, and a weekly newsletter would go a long way to reach the vast majority of Eians who didn’t have access to a commlet. If only Achlins Ghaw could be convinced to write for them!
Nyssa gave Marye a guided tour of the Refuge.
When Timm left to fetch Iyatt, she pulled Marye into her room. “So, what was the private thing you wanted to ask me about?”
Marye hesitated. The questions she’d wanted to ask were very private, indeed. Intimate even. She’d never discussed matters of that nature with anyone before. Besides, now that Geru was arrested, and no one knew on what charges and for how long, those questions seemed… trivial.
“I bet it’s about Geru and your relationship. Right?” Nyssa narrowed her eyes. “Have you seen him since he disappeared?”
“Yes,” Marye mumbled.
“Regularly?”
A nod.
“Have you made love?”
“Yes.”
“Are you pregnant?”
Marye shook her head. “I drink blue cosh tea.”
Nyssa sat cross-legged on her bed, leaned against the wall and patted the space in front of her. “Come here.”
Marye sat down.
“Do you enjoy the lovemaking?” Nyssa asked.
“I do.” Marye looked down. “Until he enters me.”
There was a silence, then Nyssa spoke. “Does he hurt you?”
“No! Not on purpose. But the act… it doesn’t feel all that great. Something must be wrong with me.”
“Does the act cause chafing? Stinging? Burning afterward?”
Marye looked up. “Yes!”
“Does he pet you beforehand?”
“Oh, yes, he hugs me—”
“Mar, that’s not what I mean. I mean between your legs.” Nyssa cocked her head. “Does he rub or lick you until you’re ready? Have you tried different positions?”
“Lick me?” Marye’s eyes grew round. “Different positions? Is that something… something Ra-human males do?”
Nyssa lowered her eyebrows. “What d
o you mean, ‘Ra-human males’? What other males are you thinking of, lady Atiz? What is Geru Gokk?”
Buggeration!
Marye shut her eyes for a brief moment, thinking. She trusted Nyssa, perhaps more than she trusted herself. She could as well tell her friend the whole truth—the Ra-dragon, the dragon, and this morning’s arrest included.
As Nyssa listened to her account, her expressive face betrayed all her reactions, from surprise to incredulity to sympathy. In the end, Marye burst into tears. But she felt better for unburdening herself, allowing herself to have a meltdown, and receiving comfort.
An hour or so later, Timm returned with Jancel’s friend Iyatt who’d finished his shift with the police. Marye and Nyssa joined them around the communal room table. Dame Heidd served herbal tea and almond-meal cookies, fresh from the oven.
Marye told them about Geru, skipping the private details. Jancel, Dame Heidd, and Timm reacted much like Nyssa had done, except with more reserve. Iyatt’s face remained closed. Marye knew why. The Rateh master held Geru responsible for his beloved’s death.
“Have you seen Geru at the police station?” she asked him.
“I haven’t seen him, but I’ve heard whispers,” Iyatt said. “At the Rateh training session this afternoon, the secret unit members looked all smug, especially the new guy who took over after Jancel skewered Qur.”
Marye leaned forward. “What did you hear? What do they know about him? What does Boggond want from him?”
He gave her a hard stare.
“I know you hate him,” she said. “I know you blame him for Unie’s death… He blames himself, too. If you only knew how much he regrets his mistake!”
“His regret won’t return her to me,” Iyatt said dryly.
Marye hung her head. Clearly, Iyatt hated Geru too much to share whatever he might’ve heard.
There was a brief silence and then he let out a resigned breath. “All I picked up was that Boggond and Voqras had caught him for someone else. Someone extremely powerful.”
“Who? Who’s more powerful than Boggond? Teteum’s king? Why would Boggond hand Geru to the enemy?”
“I don’t think it’s Teteum’s king.” Something like sympathy flickered in Iyatt’s eyes. “I don’t think that person is on this planet, Marye.”
8
When Geru was led off the spaceship, the first thing that struck him on the new planet Voqras and Boggond called Tastassi was its thick air.
Filled with smells of sweet and acrid plants, wild animals, swampy water and rotting fruit, it was vastly different from the two places in Xereill he knew. Both Hente and Norbal had a temperate climate. Their air was crisper, and the animals were mostly of the domesticated variety. In fact, Norbal was so urbanized the only animals Geru had ever seen there were fluffy pet dogs.
His minders halted and peered through the hazy air, waiting for someone.
Behind him, Voqras and Boggond climbed down the ladder. Boggond reeked of vomit, and Voqras of sweat.
Three motorized vehicles zoomed toward the tarmac and stopped a dozen feet from Geru. Four massive cyborgs jumped out and surrounded a delicately-built middle-aged man who climbed out of the second vehicle. The man marched up to Geru, eyed him greedily, and waved to his minions to take him away.
Four more cyborgs emerged from the third vehicle. They pushed Geru in and tethered him to his seat. As the vehicle drove off, one of them pulled out a syringe.
“Sit still,” he said to Geru. “I’m just giving you more sedative to help you relax.”
“Him or us?” another cyborg muttered through a nervous laugh while his colleague drove the needle into Geru’s neck.
The rest of them tittered, their faces and shoulders slackening with relief as if they’d been holding their breaths. Like they’d been scared of Geru. He couldn’t fathom why would a bunch of weaponized, deadly cyborgs be afraid of a handcuffed and fettered Ra-human.
They drove through a dense jungle Geru had only seen in picture books. His drowsy mind registered more exotic smells and sounds. Through drooping lids, he watched squirrel-like creatures jump from tree to tree, green felines prowl, and brown-black snakes slither across raised roots.
He thought about his family back on Hente. They’d counted on him, and he was failing them. It was extremely unlikely that the person or group that wanted him here would let him go to Norbal to finish his business. He was going to cause his parents more sleepless nights and more worry than they’d already lived with. Them and Marye—a friend like no other, his rock, the angel he hoped he hadn’t hurt in a fit of madness.
A short time later, the vehicle reached a concrete wall. It was about thirty feet high, topped with ferocious barbed wire.
The cyborgs unshackled Geru and led him out.
What was this place? Why was he here?
The cyborgs nudged him forward. When they got closer, a motorized gate drew aside, revealing a heavily guarded entry point. They marched into what looked like a big military base.
Sturdy, squat buildings with small windows and some without were scattered across the vast area. Motorized vehicles drove around, stopped, doors slammed, and engines roared. Scores of cyborgs in the same black and red uniform as Voqras’s bustled about.
In the middle of all that influx of sights and sounds, Geru flinched. Something, or rather someone, was reaching out to him, trying to establish a communication pathway inside his head. The contact was weak, a whisper Geru couldn’t make out, but he did pick up a key piece of information. The mystery broadcaster wasn’t the voice he’d heard on Norbal. It was someone Geru could relate to. Someone different from others. Someone like him.
What a load of scat!
The sedative they’d given him in the vehicle must be inducing hallucinations on his already befuddled brain. There was no broadcaster, no mind talker—just delusions. Or insanity. He was becoming a madman, that crazy person who heard voices and ended up either in an asylum or roaming the streets, shaking fists at imaginary foes, and prophesying the end of the world.
A tall, pallid man strode out of a building, rushing toward Geru. He had a thick, bloodstained bandage on his left hand. Two men and a woman in crisp lab coats followed behind him.
Geru’s cyborg guards stopped and bowed to the bandaged man. He didn’t return the greeting. Instead, he surveyed Geru with the same hungry intensity as the guy on the tarmac.
“Welcome to Tastassi!” the man said. “My name is Chev Tolkeet—you can call me Chev. I’m in charge of the scientific component of Governor Horbell’s Brighter Future Program, and I am so very happy you’re finally here!”
Geru curled his lip. “Can’t say I feel the same way.”
“I understand.” Chev touched Geru’s forearm. “But give it time. We’re building something beautiful, something extraordinary here. You’re going to be a part of that because of who you are.”
“A good-for-nothing son of a Hente entrepreneur?”
“Is that all you think you are?”
Bunching his eyebrows, Geru squinted at Chev. “Are you sure there hasn’t been a mix-up? My best guess is I’m to be forced to become a modified cyborg like these guys.” He pointed to his guards. “But now you’re saying ‘because of what I am,’ and I’m thinking that whoever pointed you in my direction screwed it up. Royally.”
Chev peered at him. “You have no idea, do you?” He turned to the lab coats behind him. “He’s shape dissociated.”
The other three lab coats nodded.
“It’s an uncommon but well-documented mental disorder in shapeshifters,” the older of the two lab coats said to his younger colleagues.
“Come with me, handsome.” Chev motioned to the cyborgs to fall back and slipped his good hand through Geru’s arm. “You have so much to learn!”
As they walked toward the building, past the security at the entrance, several more checkpoints and secured doors inside, Chev droned on about how Geru’s eyes would soon open and how he’d realize what an important r
ole he had to play. Chev and his team would help him access his true essence, do away with everything that had been weighing him down, and become what he was always destined to be.
“Aren’t you excited?” he asked when they entered one of the buildings on the compound.
It looked like a medical facility. Chev led Geru into a ward filled with equipment Geru had never seen before.
Geru held up his handcuffed wrists. “I’ll be excited when you take these off.”
Chev tee-heed. “I will, my boy, as soon as we’ve fitted you with a tick.”
“A—what?”
On Chev’s order, the cyborgs forced Geru to lie facedown on a surgical bed and strapped him down.
“This.” Chev held up a metal tray with an insect-like contraption on it. “Admire the new and improved model of the Transformation Inducing Controller, also known as ‘the TIC’. We developed this little jewel right here in this facility.”
Geru writhed, thrashing and twisting his body in a desperate attempt to break free, but the restraints were much too strong.
One of the cyborgs pointed his arm blaster at Geru’s temple. “I won’t hesitate to blow your head off if you try anything funny.”
Chev raised an eyebrow at him. “Please tell me your weapon is on stun.”
“It is, sir,” the cyborg said, his jaw tight.
“I doubt he can shift now,” Chev said to him, his tone softening. “If he had control over his turning, he’d have broken out of his cell on Hente.”
My turning? What the hell is he talking about?
The lab coats cut the back of Geru’s shirt open and shaved his head. One of them rubbed what smelled like disinfectant into the back of his neck.
Chev gazed at the TIC. “Truly, it’s a work of genius. Please, remember that, Geru. Almost a year of trial and error, all-nighters, dozens of shifters from all over Xereill sacrificed on the altar of science…” He turned to one of the lab coats. “How many wolf shifters did we lose?”
“Fifteen, my lord. Plus, ten bears, six bearwolves, and Hassine.”
“Yes, Hassine.” Chev’s dreamy expression darkened. “That was a major setback.”