The Druid Gene (11 page)

“Yes, I accept,” she whispered.

T
he days stretched out
, long and lonely. Darcy spent a lot of time sitting on the floor opposite the egg cell with her knees drawn up to her chin, watching them squirm and tremble inside their tiny, fluid worlds. They were completely innocent and knew nothing of the ugliness of the universe on the other side of their rubbery, ovoid membranes. She ruminated on that, and her guilt, as she observed them day after day.

She thought about Adam often. She still didn’t know what had happened to him, if he was okay, or where he was being kept. She appealed to Raub to help her find out, but he usually just grunted when she brought it up. He said that no one on the ship cared to keep track of who was who. He had no way of knowing which human was the one she described because there were many of them aboard.

Today she was remembering the quirky way Adam had introduced himself to her in the college library. She’d been immersed in studying when he’d sidled up to her table, unburdened himself of his backpack, sat down, and opened a book.

He hadn’t said a word or even met her gaze, but it had gotten her attention. The library had been virtually empty. There’d been dozens of study carols and open tables he could have used. When dinnertime rolled around and she’d gotten up to leave, he’d simply smiled, making eye contact for the first time, and extended a hand. “I’m Adam,” he’d said shyly, and he’d gone back to studying. He’d showed up frequently after that, always quiet, never bugging her.

She couldn’t decide for the longest time if it was cute or creepy. Finally one day she’d had enough. She’d started out accusatory, threatening to call campus security or even the dean. Truth be told, she’d been in a pretty grumpy mood. She’d had a physics test the next day. He’d frowned and admitted that what he had been doing was pretty weird, but once he’d started on the path he hadn’t known how to stop and he was too shy to know how to do it properly. He’d gotten up to leave, promising not to bother her anymore. He’d been so earnest and what he’d said had rung true. She’d noticed him around campus since his visits had started, always just as alone as she was. So she told him to wait and asked him what his major was. They’d started talking. Then they’d had dinner together in the caf that evening. And that was it. They were inseparable. They just clicked. They had a lot in common—both biracial, both outsiders in all the groups everyone else felt they intrinsically belonged to, both serious students. They quickly fell into an easy friendship that eventually led to more. That time in her memory seemed almost magical.

Darcy sighed and returned her focus to the eggs. She found herself feeling protective of them and checked on them often. She rearranged them frequently so that they all had equal exposure to air and none of them were crushed under another’s weight. The creatures moved so much that the eggs shifted and often managed to rearrange themselves. She wanted to be sure they’d all survive. When she asked for more information about them, Raub said he knew nothing about bug young and told her she was being ridiculous, that they didn’t need any care.

They grew quickly, filling the volume of the eggs. They’d soon hatch as larvae and then the hymenoptera would take them away to another chamber, Raub said. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. On one hand, super-sized larvae sounded disgusting. On the other, she was exceedingly curious to find out what they would look like and how they’d be cared for. She wasn’t afraid of the sight of human blood or internal organs. She was going to be a doctor—she needed to let go of this insect-related squeamishness. These new individuals’ lives were just as important as her own. Handling them daily reinforced that. It helped, somehow, even if her efforts were meaningless to anyone but herself.

She thought the hymenoptera might object to her touching the eggs, but despite the fact that Raub said they were being watched at all times, no one tried to stop her. She made a point to be very deliberate and open about her actions. She touched them carefully and spoke aloud, describing what she was doing and why she thought it might need to be done.

She never interacted with anyone but him, and even that was infrequent. Raub was let out of the rooms several times a day to retrieve food and water, but no one ever came in. A couple of hymenoptera would stand outside with shock sticks, their pincers on the door controls, and then they’d escort him away and lock her in. She kept her distance.

She talked to the eggs, told them about her life before the abduction. How hard medical school was. What living in the Arizona heat was like compared to Ohio. How good Adam was to her, bringing home her favorite chocolate milkshake on particularly rough days, just hanging with her when she was too tired to go out, or giving her random extra-squeezy hugs to cheer her up. The monologues tended to make her feel sad.

Sometimes she sang to them, whatever she could think of—lullabies, nursery rhymes, Beatles songs. She wasn’t much of a singer and it all came out of her in a weird mishmash of English and the language from the chip in her brain. The rhymes didn’t rhyme anymore, and sometimes that made her giggle at the absurdity of her situation—singing to insect eggs because it seemed like a good thing to do and she had nothing better to fill her time with. At least it felt sort of therapeutic.

Raub rolled his eyes whenever he caught her singing. He spent most of his time either exercising or meditating. They rarely spent time together except for meals. She got the distinct impression that he tolerated her because he had to.

An egg wriggled atop its pile with such force that it rolled off over the edge of the cell and onto the floor. Darcy picked it up, examined it for any visible injury, and when she didn’t find any, balanced it on her knee, peering through its murky membrane at the developing individual inside.

She heard the door open between the rooms and broke off midsong.

Raub came in and leaned against the wall, frowning. “You should do something more productive to pass the time. You squawk like a seabird.”

She shrugged. “There’s nothing to do. I’m just waiting to be sold.” Saying those words made it feel so real. She focused on the egg on her knee so she wouldn’t think about it.

“There’s plenty to do, Leebska. Your physical condition is appalling. Let’s start with that.”

She considered her options. As an only child she had long ago learned to entertain herself, but without anyone to talk to or books to read, games or anything else to occupy her mind aside from fiddling with these larvae, the loneliness and boredom were beginning to eat at her. Raub’s demeanor reminded her of a bully’s, but if there was no one else in the schoolyard and the bully wanted to play, even the bully could begin to look fun.

She couldn’t stop her eyes from lighting up at the prospect of doing something different, even though what he was hinting at seemed to be exercise. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll teach you to make the most of your time within this limited space and with few tools.”

He would teach her something, huh? She’d gotten the impression he wouldn’t do anything without getting something in return. She felt somewhat suspicious despite the eagerness welling up inside. “Why?”

He grunted and an amused half sneer pushed up one side of his mouth. “Call it charity, Leebska.”

She snorted. There didn’t seem to be a quid pro quo.

“Besides, I can’t take another minute of your incessant warble. It’s a form of aural torture.”

She rolled her eyes. He was always complaining about something, like an irascible old dude.

“You will be quiet and focused. You will do as I say. It will serve you well.”

She stood, stooping to lay the egg among the others. She didn’t like being ordered around, nor was exercise something she enjoyed, but something to do to pass the time? Yes. She’d agree to following his orders if there was something, anything, to distract her from her tortured thoughts. Reluctantly she said, “Okay.”

He turned, went into the dining chamber, and pushed the table out of the way. She followed, feeling like an eager puppy. He pointed to an area of open floor in front of him and she quickly moved to occupy it. “First, we quiet the body with a measure of fatigue. Pay attention to detail. This is a short sequence, called the Sahventahl. I expect you to learn it quickly and to execute it flawlessly. It works every muscle group, improves circulation, and moves lymph.”

He spread his feet shoulder width apart and pressed his hands to his sides. She did the same. He slowly lifted one foot and placed it deliberately one step in front of him, balancing his weight, while turning at the hip to face forty-five degrees away, sweeping both arms over his abs in front of his body and pushing out in that direction without extending his torso. She watched him closely and mimicked him, careful to execute her movements in a mirror image to his. He continued at a very slow pace, moving fluidly through pose after pose that bent and twisted her body in ways that felt surprisingly good.

Raub was possessed of a feral grace. He seemed to have gone inside himself. His expression was more tranquil than she’d ever seen it.

It reminded her of Adam’s tai chi chuan group. She used to sit under a tree in the quad and study while he practiced with them. Just watching the fluid, graceful, synchronous movements had been peaceful. He’d taught her a little bit, but never very seriously because she hadn’t shown much interest and she didn’t have the free time. Now she wished she could have that time back with him. It was something they should have done together. There were so many things she would have done differently if she’d known what was going to happen to them.

This routine consisted of slow punches, extensions, stretches, and kicks. At first they seemed simple, easy, but many of the maneuvers took so long to execute that after a few repetitions she was feeling a burn. As she began to get a feel for the sequence, she watched less and focused more on her own position and stance.

His focus shifted as well, to a more watchful attitude. More than once he barked at her, “Hold!” and she forced herself to maintain the position without drooping as they arced through a movement at a snail’s pace—when all she wanted to do was drop her arms and legs and sprawl on the floor. She wouldn’t do that, though. She’d always been stubborn like this. It was her competitive nature, she supposed, or a lifetime of allowing herself to show no weakness in front of whites or blacks. She would go until she dropped, or he finished, whichever came first.

He completed a sequence, lowered his arms, and ordered, “Continue.”

She flowed back into the first movement and kept going. Sweat ran down her forehead, around the curve of her brow and down the side of her face to drip on the floor as she reached over and extended her neck to one side. Raub sidled up to her, so close she could smell his alien, musky scent. He lifted her arm a bit higher, closed his fingers over hers to adjust them into a slightly different position.

He circled around her. As she bent at the waist and swiveled, he leaned in over her shoulder and raised her chin with a finger as he whispered in her ear, growling, “I cannot control who they sell you to, Leebska, but I can give you a fighting chance once they possess you. Accept me as your instructor and I will teach you to fight—for your life, for the freedom you desire so strongly, and for control of this power you wield.”

Her muscles trembled and her abs burned from the strain of holding the position so long. “But, why—?”

He came around in front of her and supported her leg with a hand as he pushed her center of gravity back through the slow kick. “Like this,” he said. Then quietly, “We will not speak of this. We must use caution or they’ll separate us. They must think we only endeavor to keep our minds and bodies healthy. They already observe my own exercise regime daily and do not question it. Do you accept my offer, Leebska?”

She frowned. She wondered what he might expect in return for this training. He’d mentioned charity, but she couldn’t be sure what that meant to him. She also was unclear about how he could possibly teach her to fight when Hain and the hymenoptera were surely watching them.

Right now she was hating Raub more than a little for baiting her to continue well past the point where she’d wanted to quit. But the idea of being more physically fit, the chance to learn to defend herself, the possibility of escaping, to control her own destiny—all of that was worthy of some effort, some risk.

Except he wasn’t answering her question. That galled. She turned her face slowly until it was near the tan tufts of hair covering the place where she assumed his ears would be. “What do you have to gain from helping me?”

His expression stayed blank. He adjusted her posture again. “An ally who is prepared to act should an opportunity present itself.”

What does that mean?

A muscle in her leg trembled. She gritted her teeth and continued the movement at the excruciating pace he set. She was pretty sure it was more than that. There was too much calculation lurking behind those freaky dark-blue eyes. But what else did she have to do?

“Yes, I accept,” she whispered.

T
he days began
to speed by. Raub kept her busy. Upon waking there was a short stretching routine and Raub’s daily ritual of drinking a large amount of water. That was followed by bathing and a small meal to break the fast. Then she checked on the hymenoptera eggs while he left their rooms for an hour or two. She’d asked what he did during those outings, but he only raised an eyebrow in response. To say he was taciturn would be an understatement.

The afternoons were filled with longer exercise sessions when he taught her lengthier movement sequences, then another short break for a bigger meal. The evening was for meditation and reflection. She was familiar with that sort of stuff, but he wouldn’t let her doze off like her mother had.

She mastered several sequences of movements and committed them to muscle memory through sheer repetition. She employed the same kind of diligence while learning the exercise that she’d always applied to studying. If she was going to learn something, she was going to do it properly. She felt herself growing stronger and he increased the difficulty to match that. She was always challenged and always stubbornly pushing herself to meet those challenges no matter how impossible it felt.

It was important to be practical at this point. If she was stronger and more resilient, she was more likely to survive and find Adam. Once she’d done that, they could work together to get home somehow. She wasn’t going to be a damsel in distress waiting for him to rescue her. And if he managed to, she didn’t want to be dead weight.

She had to be proactive. She had to be ready for anything. Getting stronger was part of that.

She was shocked the first time she woke to the feeling of Raub’s hand on her foot in the middle of the night. She kicked it away and scrambled deeper into the sleeping cell, stifling a scream.

He whispered hoarsely, “Calmly, Leebska. We’re going to practice now. Come down.”

It was completely black, not a jot of light. Her heart started to slow and she remembered his cryptic remark earlier in the evening when she’d climbed up into her bunk. He’d actually said something when he normally just nodded in reply to her well-wishes for a good night’s sleep.

He’d murmured, “I’ll wake you soon.” She’d thought he meant for morning exercises, because she was always fatigued from all the exercise, slept hard, and had to be woken. It usually felt like no time had passed. But no—he’d meant what he’d said, quite literally.

She was groggy but awake enough to realize that she didn’t dare speak in the case they were being monitored, so she scooted to the edge of the cell, turned over on her stomach, and climbed down, her feet finding purchase in the cells below hers.

He was close. She could feel his subtle warmth as her bare feet set down on the floor, though he didn’t touch her.

“We’ll train here at night. They’ve stopped watching us now, assuming we’re having a sleep cycle. We won’t open another door. That would alert them that we’re awake.”

She rubbed her face like a small child. “Raub—we just trained all day long. I want to sleep.”

“You may sleep all you desire when you’re dead. Will that be sooner or later, Leebska?”

She sighed.

“Now the real training begins.”

Her brain was starting to work again. She felt a surge of grumpiness and disbelief. Up until now she’d been too sleepy to argue. She kept her voice low. “What? In the dark?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her toward the center of the long, narrow room. “Enough talk. Begin the Sahventahl to warm up.”

It was pointless to argue with him. He always won, usually by getting mean and reminding her of her situation and everything she had to lose by not being prepared for any possible type of slave master. That was all it took to rev her up and get her going. She began the sequence, sleepily. Her limbs were still stiff and sore from the previous day’s work.

Raub growled, a low rumble in his chest, and she adjusted her stance so that it was less sloppy.

“Can you
see
me?” she whispered. She neared completion of the sequence. She sensed him hovering nearby, but couldn’t make out anything in the dark.

“Double the speed of execution. Maintain proper form.”

She frowned, but complied. As she finished, he murmured, “Double that, now.”

Her heart pounded. This felt more like aerobic exercise. Each time she came to the closing move, he prodded her faster yet, until she flew through the forms in seconds and she began to see what he was after. She was executing a series of punches, kicks and blocking movements—this was a martial art, hidden in the guise of meditative exercise. She channeled her anger, putting more force into each punch and kick. The fatigue disappeared. There was a feeling of exhilaration in performing the sequences at a faster rate and with purpose.

“Maintain this rate and move into the Minestra sequence.” He had to be able to see her. Every so often he smoothly darted in and tapped her arm, her hip—to remind her to maintain form whenever she sagged a bit.

He pushed her through every sequence until she begged off for a break just to breathe, hands on knees, gasping for air. Her hair was saturated with sweat. Luckily the garment she wore was made to shed moisture, so she still felt comfortable wherever it touched her skin. As her breathing slowed, she sat down with her back against the wall. Raub slid down next to her and handed her a cup of water.

“Your eyesight is remarkable,” she breathed after gulping down most of the contents of the cup.

“Yours is lacking. You’re blind unless it’s midday.” He sounded disapproving.

“You must see more than the standard light spectrum—into ultraviolet and maybe even infrared.”

“That
is
the standard light spectrum,” he said dryly.

She huffed, smiling. “Yes. I suppose that would depend on your point of view.”

“It’s remarkable that your species survived. There must not be many large predators on your world.”

It was an interesting point. “I don’t have any idea how Earth compares to other worlds.”

“Obviously.”

After that he let her cool down and get some rest, but woke her at the usual time the next morning, presumably so that those watching wouldn’t note any change in routine. She was accustomed to getting by on less sleep than most because of medical school, so she didn’t complain.

Weeks went by. She began to marvel at the muscles rippling under her skin, how effortless movement began to seem, how she didn’t feel like she’d begun her day until she broke a sweat. It cleared out the cobwebs and sharpened her thoughts. She felt like she was building toward a goal. She frequently wished Adam could see her. He’d always told her exercise could do this for her and she’d always resisted, not really believing it was worth the sacrifice of study time. Now she wished she could go back and let him show her.

The nighttime sessions grew more intense each. Raub began by feinting jabs at her and blocking her punches and kicks softly. Because she couldn’t see him, she had to learn to react instantaneously and be excruciatingly aware of every other sense—the slight wind of his oncoming punch or kick, his breath, every subtle sound he made moving over the floor.

She began to see what some of the more unusual moves were intended to do. If she didn’t understand immediately, he’d whisper a quick instruction and it would click into place. Some of the sequences were more like wrestling moves, once she knew their purpose. He taught her various choke holds and how to get her opponent to the floor and pin him, using his momentum as leverage since her body was smaller. He taught her that being smart and quick was just as important as being strong.

These sessions gradually escalated until they were outright sparring. He began to land light blows when her defenses weren’t fast enough. They rarely left bruises, but they stung—mostly her pride. That made her work even harder.

The only noises that broke these silent sessions were her soft grunts of effort and the subtle sound of skin slapping skin as she began to mix up the forms instinctively, instead of following a predictable sequence. That kept him more at arm’s length and less likely to get in close to strike. He always broke through her defenses eventually, but she took some pride in the fact that she was gradually extending the time that took.

Her tendency toward competitiveness pushed her to do more than just learn to block his blows or thwart his efforts at pinning her. She strove to catch him off guard, to push him back, to get in a few stinging blows of her own. He would always be bigger, stronger, more experienced, and she took that as a challenge. She worked hard at being unpredictable, at trying new ideas, at using her medical knowledge to her advantage as much as she could—a punch to his nose, kidney, or throat, a kick to his outer thigh or abdomen—all the places that she knew were vulnerable on a human. She was gratified when some of it even seemed to work.

She wanted to win.

One thing bothered her, though. Raub was looking at her differently now. He was pleased with her progress, that was clear, but sometimes…it almost seemed like there was a watchful, predatory evaluation in his eye, or even a lustfulness that she didn’t like. It was unnerving and made her feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. He didn’t try to hide it, which made her think she had to be misinterpreting it.

They were from different planets, so she could never be sure she was deciphering his expressions accurately. But, still, something in the back of her mind reminded her to be wary. He was a prisoner too. He was ruthless. He’d admitted to being a murderer. She decided to stay out of his way as much as possible when they weren’t training, though that would be hard.