Page 83 of Odder Still
The researcher crushes the severed piece and dissolves it into a vial, bringing it to a white lab bench where another scientist works at a microscope. “This might be the last sample we can take today without overstressing the auroras.”
“Lachlan won’t like that.”
The first researcher snorts. “If Lachlan is so convinced we’ll find this mystery compound, then he can be the one to kill the auroras himself.”
She leaves the microscope bench for another pair of researchers standing at a row of tables a little farther away. Even from this distance, I can clearly make out the substance they load into their tiny syringe, the liquid twice as shimmery and iridescent as ignation but with a base that isn’t just silver, or even white, but a color deeper and stronger than that, something so bright it clings to the back of my eyes and turns black as I blink. I’m ready to dismiss it as some new ignit product, but my parasite yanks up a memory of my blood in Lachlan’s lab, encircling it feverishly. My skin tingles at the resemblance, as though they took that blood and removed the red.
They gather around one of the tables, where they’ve strapped down a half-shaved dog on its side. It jerks against its bindings and growls as they wheel ignation-filled metal equipment around it, using pulleys and cranks to aim lenses like giant guns, and flat plates like shields.
“Ready?” the one with the syringe asks, waiting for the others to flip a series of switches before injecting his terrible mixture into the animal. “Start the clock.”
The test subject’s eyes go black, lit from within by a plethora of colors. As one, the ignation mutants all turn toward the injected dog. The animal’s fear seems to spread through them the same way the mutated orca had manifested my calm on the beach in Falcre and my desperation in Ailsa’s library. The canines bark and howl, the cats hiss and cower, the bear growls, curling tighter, and the walruses roll over each other in their fright. A maniacal laugh leaves Not-Jean, as terrifying as it is terror filled, sharp and so high it could almost be a scream. She clutches her arms over her face, shuddering.
My parasite freezes, and my blood chills with it. This is more than unethical—this is perverted. If my gods could see this, even they would shudder.
Lavender seems to understand the situation in a way the scientists clearly do not, and she tries her best to shoot into the folds of my flowing vest, digging her claws into me as she climbs. It kills me to pull her off and set her back onto the floor. I scoot her into a gap between two crates, promising to bring her with me when I leave.
Slipping out from behind the tarp screen, I creep along the benches at the edge of the room and grab a metal tube rack as though it’s a club. The scientists freeze when they spot me halfway between the entrance and their tables. Confusion, then panic crosses their features. One points the eruptstone-tipped knife at me, but his weak grip and lopsided stance take all intimidation out of the motion. I dash forward and catch the knife between the rungs of the tube rack, twisting it from his grip. It clatters into the gap just below the aurora tank.
“Stay back.” I mean it as a straightforward demand, but it comes out a hiss, dark, almost deranged.
They obey, joining the others around the injected dog with their hands raised. The animal releases a piercing howl that seems to crack the inside of my head, and the darkness in its eyes sloughs off. A thick, black liquid drains from the edges of its closed lids. It still breathes, but barely.
The laboratory door bangs so loud we all jump. A bodyguard charges through the tarps, the three I took down earlier following behind, bandaged and scowling.
Panic rebounds between my parasite and me, increasing into a crescendo. We lunge for the stairs to the aurora tank, but the first bodyguard comes in too fast. My parasite keeps reaching, though, even as I try to turn back to fight. We trip against the first step, dropping to our knees. The guard slams his stick square across our shoulders.
I stiffen as a jolt of electricity burns through me. My parasite flinches, its focus turning to the guard an instant too late to protect us. We take another blow, and a third. The world flickers and twists around us.
The guards grab our arms, dragging us across the floor, and before we can find the strength to struggle, they slam us down on one of the tables. The air leaves our lungs with such force that not even my parasite can breathe through it. Someone shouts, and leather shackles clamp around our wrists and ankles, binding us to a table by short chains. I tug against them, and my parasite tries to slip into their locking mechanism, but the guard slams their stick into our gut at each attempt.
Tavish’s voice echoes through my mind:Trust me, I can do good here.
And for some gods-forsaken, silt-breathing reason, all I can think of is how I shouldn’t have held on to him so tight. Shouldn’t have been so selfish with him. I could have accepted that it was time and let him go with one last kiss, could have had something of him to savor during this pain.
Damn me.
High heels click their way down the stairs. I lift my head to watch Raghnaid enter the lab, her dress fluttering, Lachlan behind her. Her attention momentarily catches on the creatures beyond the glass and the scientists moving the unconscious dog into a kennel in the corner.
“Well, well, dear husband, you’ve been up to something useful after all.” Her gaze lands on me, and her mouth fixes between a grimace and a smirk. “Thank the Trench I was prudent enough not to leave you imbeciles for long.”
Lachlan pushes his glasses farther up his bony nose. A curl of stringy, greying hair falls into his eyes, but he seems not to notice. “We’ve found a substance in his blood that, when injected into a subject, makes the mutants responsive to the subject’s desires and emotions for a time. With a steady supply, we could craft an army, a workforce, whatever you desire.”
“A twitchy workforce or an impulsive army that responds to a single person? I am not trusting anyone else with that much power,” Raghnaid snaps, her voice consuming his. “Besides, the longer the aurora stays in the foreigner, the harder it will be to remove.”
“We may be able to rein in the substance’s effect or transform it into something that could be controlled at a distance by you, or even myself.” Lachlan seems to add that last part in with an eager sort of hesitation, like he hopes she wouldn’t quite notice. “If I had more time and resources to explore it—”
Raghnaid barely glances at him. “Draw what blood you can, but start the necessary scans while you do it. I won’t sacrifice a perfectly good aurora for your whims.”
“As you wish it.” His cheek twitches though, and he watches, bug-eyed as Raghnaid approaches me.
“Was that promise you made Tavish a lie?” I demand of her, trying not to be consumed by the way she dismissively scans me in return, as though I were a smudge of dirt she’s about to wipe off her trophy.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she flicks her fingers at the nearest scientist. “Record this: the foreigner acted out against our gracious security and in the process endangered his own life. In order to save the aurora, we were then forced to initiate removal procedures. Date, time, sign.”
“Yes, of course.” The scientist ducks his head, scribbling down in an official-looking notepad.
“Prep the full body mapping,” Raghnaid announces. “I want to be able to cut this aurora out by the end of the hour.”
