by L. E. Horn
Lianndra leaned against the tree trunk, looking at the stars. “Michael can go home, Hannah. I can’t. I don’t want him making connections that may hold him back.”
Hannah snorted. “Who says he’d want to return? We don’t even know if it will ever be possible. We could die tomorrow and you’re worried about him being able to go home?”
“I think Michael is too”—Lianndra groped for the right word—“loyal. If we get into something and it works, he might be torn with the decision. Besides, look at me. Kissing me is like kissing an animal.”
Lianndra realized she also insulted Hannah and her involvement with a certain very human male. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. You’re beautiful as you are and I’m sure Drake agrees. I just don’t feel that way about myself.”
Hannah didn’t insult easily. Although her brows rose in the darkness, her reply, as usual, reflected her sense of humor. “Well, I wouldn’t want to kiss you, but I don’t think it has anything to do with your hairy body.”
Despite herself, Lianndra laughed. They sat in silence for a while, contemplating the stars.
“Have you tried to reverse the mutations?” Hannah’s question seemed to come out of nowhere.
Lianndra stared at her friend in shock. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re always creating new ways to use your abilities. Have you tried to reverse any genetic changes the Fang made to you?” Hannah’s gaze dropped to meet Lianndra’s astonished expression. “I rather like my accessories,”—she gestured to her twitching tail and waved her claws in the air—“but you obviously don’t. So have you tried to eliminate them?”
Lianndra didn’t reply but her mind raced. Can I reverse the changes? They would leave the jungle in a few days, so the mutations made to ease their life in the trees would no longer be an advantage. I’m so sunk in my despair that I haven’t been thinking proactively.
She could reduce the body hair to almost nothing but things like the tail, the teeth, and the claws were external changes the Fang created at the genetic level.
“Reversing the genetic mutations within my body is well beyond my ability but perhaps not beyond yours. You are always full of surprises,” Hannah said.
Lianndra hardly heard her because she had already gone within the cells of the middle finger of her right hand. In the back of her mind she considered what she knew of her abilities. The Fang had enhanced the Healers’ human brain by developing a latent talent for telekinesis. Healers mentally entered a living body at the subcellular level to move molecules with their minds.
When injuries occur, neighboring cells trigger naturally to divide and fill the void. Healers train to use their telekinetic ability to induce cells to divide quicker. First, they find healthy cells next to the injury, and collect nutrients and growth factors from them. After that, the Healers find key complexes within the cells to trigger mitosis. Under an experienced Healer, the cells duplicate fast to heal a wound.
The Fang trained the first Healers to move cellular materials with their minds. By the time they created Lianndra’s generation, the older ones worked at the molecular level. They showed the new Healers how to identify the key molecules involved in cell division. Each differed in their abilities, but many could go no further than manipulating the molecular materials to help healing.
Few understand the power at their fingertips, Lianndra thought.
Over time Lianndra trained first herself, and then Hannah, to go further. She’d isolated a protein within the cellular matrix that formed strands between the cell and the surrounding fluid. These strands dictated the path in which the new daughter cells would grow. Thus, she and Hannah deliberately grew the cells in any direction, forming bridges of tissue to seal a wound in a coordinated fashion, rather than random growing of cells.
Ripping existing cells apart was more difficult because the Healer used her telekinetic ability to destroy the cellular membranes at the molecular level, reopening the wound. The leftover debris could be recycled into nutrients for the new cells or be pushed along to the lymphatic system for disposal. In the case of infection, she telekinetically pushed it out of the wound altogether, a labor-intensive process.
Although Lianndra didn’t care to think about it, she knew they could use this ability to kill, by ripping apart and not rebuilding the cells. She could destroy vital organs such as the heart or brain at the cellular level. It would require a powerful Healer with extremely finite control over her abilities, but it would be possible.
She knew most Healers didn’t understand the specifics of how their talents worked. By extending their senses, they felt their way through the process, identifying certain components by touch and then manipulating them with their minds. Lianndra’s veterinary training allowed her to understand the intricacies of involvement at a molecular level. When meditating, she developed new strategies that pushed the boundaries of how they healed. As a medical student, Hannah easily followed Lianndra’s lead.
But can I go one level further? Can I manipulate genetic code? Lianndra wasn’t sure.
The coded building plan for the body’s cells, commonly known as DNA, told the cells what they were to become and how they were to work. The Fang manipulated her DNA, inserting new coding so her body’s cells would develop in a new way—tail, claws, and so on. Healers pushed components around, triggering the cell replication process by manipulating protein molecules responsible for reading sections of the DNA code. Attempting to alter her genetic mutations involved going within the cells’ nuclei and interpreting the DNA coding itself. To change herself back to fully human, she would have to find the altered DNA sequences, before locating the original human genes and either reactivate them or reinsert them into the DNA strand.
Piece of cake. Right.
Swallowing her nerves, Lianndra cleared her mind. She isolated a single cell in her finger and gently inserted herself within via a pore in the membrane. Entering a cell always reminded her of what it would be like to dive into the ocean’s depths. With no existing natural light, she navigated by feel, painting a mental picture of the various cell structures floating in the darkness. Her many previous pilgrimages into cells helped her to identify the basic structures including vesicles, lysosomes, the Golgi apparatus, and the smooth endoplasmic reticulum. She found the nucleus so well protected it would be difficult to penetrate without damage. Lianndra entered carefully via the cellular back door of the rough endoplasmic reticulum, zeroing in on the chromosomes.
Chromosomes contained the DNA strands, and the normal human cell possessed forty-six. Each chromosome inhabited its own territory within the nucleus, nature’s way of keeping the genetic materials pure. The chromosomes only came together when ready to duplicate.
Lianndra had no way of knowing which chromosomes contained the DNA the Fang modified. Genes were sections of the DNA strand, and characteristics such as eye color could be affected by more than one gene. Who knows how many genes they changed to do this to me? I guess I’m hoping for a flashing light saying, “These are the genes you are looking for.”
She fine-tuned her mental eye to scan the DNA strand of the nearest chromosome. Beads of sweat formed on her skin, dripping down her face as she strained to find the gene sequences.
After failing multiple times to identify gene sequences along the DNA strands, let alone the modified ones, she tried something different. Lianndra concentrated on the claws themselves. By pushing with her mind, she coaxed the cells to multiply and lengthen a claw. She shrank the claw to the merest pointed stub by tearing the cells apart. No matter what she did, the DNA code within the nail bed of her finger would still tell the claw to regenerate exactly as before. She couldn’t tell it to return to a normal human fingertip without changing the gene sequence.
Try as she might, finding the gene sequence that said “grow the fingernail as a claw and emerge at the fingertip” was just too difficult.
Lianndra gasped for breath when she pulled out, her body soaked in sweat.
&
nbsp; Hannah watched her with a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”
Lianndra shook her head, exhausted. “I can’t do it. I can’t find the code they altered let alone determine if the original human coding is still kicking around.”
“It’s okay, Lianndra.” Hannah withdrew, as if she regretted suggesting her friend try such a thing.
“No, it’s not. Not really. But it was worth a try.” Lianndra leaned back and closed her eyes. After a moment, Hannah’s warm hand touched her arm. Then the other Healer slipped away, heading back to camp. And Drake.
Lianndra sat and watched the stars until her breathing slowed. Then she leaned forward, staring at her fingers. She sank within, and the beads of sweat formed on her forehead to drip slowly down her face.
Where there’s a will, there has to be a way.
LIANNDRA WATCHED MICHAEL WEAVE THROUGH the jungle beneath her. She enjoyed the play of his muscles under the ragged slave’s clothing and the fluid way he moved through the underbrush. Even though he’d matured into a big man, Michael moved with agility, light and balanced on his feet. She didn’t remember noticing him move like that back on Earth. It must have resulted from his Fang training, or perhaps he’d grown into his frame, reaching the perfect balance of muscle and bone necessary for grace. His muscles weren’t too bulky but smoothly joined to the bones, like a cat’s. A big cat. Like a lion.
And cats are graceful. Observing him like this made Lianndra feel guilty. I must stop doing this. I’ve become a stalker.
Not talking to him tortured her, as did having him so close and not being with him. But this was the way it had to be. If the rebellion resulted in the Fang’s defeat, there was a chance Michael could go home to live a normal life.
Whatever the future holds, it won’t include me going home, she thought. Not unless I make progress in reversing these changes. Which had yet to happen, despite working at it every spare minute. Lianndra took comfort in the fact she’d freed Michael from Fang slavery; he could make going home a reality.
A soft scuffling noise announced Hannah’s arrival on a branch above. Her friend remained silent until Michael disappeared into the thick brush. An embarrassed Lianndra braced herself for the assessment. She didn’t have to wait. “Michael doesn’t care about the changes to your body.” Hannah waved one hand in the air and rolled her eyes as she repeated knowledge she imparted to Lianndra almost daily. “He’s the real deal, Lianndra. Who knows what the future holds in store? Live now. Love now.”
Lianndra ignored her, leaning back against the shaggy tree trunk. She pulled the little Gryphon amulet from its hiding place, letting it dangle between her fingers.
Hannah sighed again, loudly, as she sat astride her branch, firmly wrapping her tail around it for extra support. She contemplated the figurine from her higher perch. “You know, when you turn it a certain way, it looks like the dragon pictures back home.”
Lianndra grabbed the little amulet to examine it in more detail. What she’d first seen as simple bird’s wings along the back actually formed the middle set of legs, extended to form bat-like wings. With the long neck and head, it did resemble a dragon. Michael mentioned it, didn’t he? Dragon mythology with a Gryphon connection? Hmm.
She wondered if the winged Gryphon existed on Tarin or were they just fanciful interpretations on the alien’s own form.
The concept lost its hold on Hannah. “Lianndra, I mean what I say about Michael. I won’t lie to you, I do worry whether Drake would want to go home if the opportunity arose, but a lot could happen between then and now. Seize life and make the most of each moment. Don’t worry about something that might never happen.” She tossed her hair out of her face and repeated, “Live in the now!”
“I know you believe in living in the moment.” Lianndra tucked the amulet away. “But I must believe we will find a way home when this is over. Otherwise, what are we fighting for? What is freedom if we’re trapped on an alien world? I want Michael to return home. I don’t want him tied to this place, or to me. As things stand now, going home is something I can never do.”
She shot a tortured look at Hannah before launching herself into the foliage.
Day after day, Lianndra ghosted through the trees, reporting only to Drake and Hannah, and ranging as far from the unit as possible on the pretense of laying down the best routes for them to follow. She ate and slept in the trees. Yet she couldn’t help herself; she had to see Michael daily. Lianndra crept up on him, watched from overhead, telling herself it was just to make sure he stayed safe, but her heartbeat always betrayed her.
Sometimes the desire overwhelmed her so strongly it made her knees buckle. It’s only loneliness. Something I can control and resist.
THE GROUP’S PROGRESS SLOWED THE day Hannah discovered the remains of what must have been a wicked battle. The appalling smell alerted her, and she reported to Michael, who as forward sentry, arrived first on scene. He guessed the battle happened a few days ago. Despite likely Gryphon casualties, there were no Gryphon bodies. Only human and alien slaves were left to rot at the edge of the jungle.
While Lianndra and Hannah stayed in the trees near the battle zone, using the height to keep an eye out for trouble, the other men joined Michael and Drake to survey the bodies.
They quickly assessed the site, and the men scavenged. Although the battle’s survivors removed most of the weapons, Drake’s men gleaned small arms such as knives and the occasional old sword. Plates, cups, and the packs to haul them were also valuable salvage.
Michael hefted a second pack to his shoulder, his eyes skipping over the mauled bodies before fastening on Lianndra. The blonde Healer stood on a branch fifteen feet above the soil. To accommodate the midday heat, her hair only covered the essentials. Her tanned skin beautifully complemented the mottled colors of the thick hair covering her breasts and hips. She’d grown the hair on her head long and kept it in multiple braids, interwoven with fine vines, wooden beads, and various bright feathers. The braids hung around her shoulders, reaching to her waist. Her natural beauty made Michael’s heart beat erratically, and he had to force himself to breathe.
If aware of the heat of his gaze, Lianndra refused to acknowledge it. She seemed to avoid eye contact, looking well over his head and across the clearing. Michael experienced a stab of annoyance. He turned full on to her, unabashedly staring at her, daring her to do something.
HANNAH DROPPED OUT OF A of a tree at the clearing’s other edge and thought she saw movement in a clump of dense foliage close to the men. She grabbed a low branch and hung above the ground to sniff the air. Even over the odor of dead bodies, she caught a whiff of something familiar.
Vloxx. The smell of dead bodies must have attracted one of the jungle’s more repulsive denizens. Sometimes predator, sometimes scavenger, the Vloxx was a lizard-like creature standing about seven feet tall. It closely resembled the dinosaurs of ancient Earth if one wasn’t fussy about counting limbs. The Vloxx possessed six, all armed with vicious claws. It crawled rapidly on all its appendages or ran even faster upright on just two. The long snout contained many sharp teeth for ripping into flesh. Shiny, elongated, razor-sharp serrated scales covered the skin, reflecting its surroundings, making it difficult to see until it moved.
Vloxx temperaments matched their looks, and they were territorial, particularly when it came to food.
Hannah’s eyes widened as she caught another glimmer of movement, and her mouth opened to shout. She didn’t get the chance. With only a snort as a warning, the Vloxx barreled out of the thicket straight at Michael.
No one had any time to react, least of all Michael. It hit him full force, tearing claws through fabric and muscle, ripping him wide open. Its momentum carried it right on past him to the man scavenging ten feet away. The man died instantly when the razor claws separated his head from his body.
Drake barely got his laser up in time as the blur of claws and teeth bore down on him. He fired point-blank, the close shot penetrating the metallic scales. Morta
lly wounded, the creature ran into him, its scales slicing into Drake as it collided.
It was over in a microsecond, and silence fell over the clearing.
LIANNDRA DIDN’T REMEMBER HER FEET hitting the ground, but she arrived at Michael’s side within seconds. His lifeblood shot from him in great spraying arcs. Far too many of his insides lay in a jumble around his prone body.
It was a miracle he stayed conscious. Blood seeped from a corner of his mouth as he tried to speak.
“Hush.” Lianndra struggled to talk through tears, her fingers reaching inside him, finding and pressing on the huge blood vessel running the length of his torso. Concentrate, damn it. His blood covered her, hot against her naked skin. She forced herself to focus, sealing the tear as fast as she could. So much damage.
She’d never worked on anyone with this kind of injury and had them live. Pushing the thoughts away, she reached for another, smaller vessel pumping his blood skyward. His body cavity filled far too rapidly for her to keep up. No! You won’t die, not after everything we’ve been through!
Suddenly, Hannah appeared beside her. The other Healer moved to Michael’s opposite side and started sealing blood vessels. Obviously thinking more clearly than Lianndra, she said, “Recirculate the blood. Quick!”
Her words snapped Lianndra out of her panic. She redirected her efforts, using a large blood vessel as a vacuum, pushing the blood cells back into circulation before his entire system collapsed. Dimly, Lianndra heard Drake shouting orders and a part of her acknowledged, with relief, that the captain survived the collision with the Vloxx.
She got as much blood reclaimed as possible before sealing the vessel, and then the two women worked on repositioning and repairing his other organs. Michael’s liver and pancreas showed extensive damage, along with his intestines.
The healing required several hours of painstaking work. The cells of organs and nerves were naturally reluctant to divide, and it took a concentrated effort to induce them to fill in such large gaps. Michael’s heart quit on them three times, and every time they restarted it. They placed the organs back where they belonged and reconnected them to the various nerves, arteries, veins, and ducts. They cleaned and repaired his guts and put them back in place. The two Healers worked together to mend the viscera and muscles. It even challenged them to replicate enough skin cells to seal the gash, and they resorted to scar tissue past a certain point since those cells required less intricacy. If he lived, he would have permanent scars to tell the story.