by Lydia Hope
His long face hadn't brightened.
“Dr. Delano isn’t here for me,” he said sourly. “He’s here to talk to you, Gemma. And he had to wait for a long time for you to finally come home.” He gave her a look full of reproach, as if she had known about the visit but chose to be late.
Gemma turned to Dr. Delano with all the grace she could muster. She was tired and terribly dispirited. And she expected absolutely nothing good from Dr. Delano.
“Is this true? You’re here to see me?”
“As it turns out, yes.”
She had forgotten his eyes, those pokey sharp shards of gray with a hard glint. So intense they bordered on crazy. She was afraid she knew why he sought her out.
“What is it, doctor?” she asked cautiously.
He cocked his head and his orderlies flexed their shoulders as if getting ready for action.
“I heard an interesting bit of news, Gemma,” he began, soft and beguiling. “A prisoner escaped yesterday. Brazenly. He plowed his way out by tearing apart one helper, eleven guards, and a massive alien of Obu race. Conventional electric weapons couldn't stop him. A tracking device he was wearing hadn’t deterred him. Immediately, I was intrigued.”
“Intrigued,” Gemma echoed.
“It appears that the escaped prisoner is an alien himself,” Dr. Delano continued. “One that is very strong. Very healthy. Very alive.”
He paused, allowing her a chance to explain, but she didn’t.
“Your aunt tells me you no longer work at the prison.”
Gemma threw a loaded glance in Aunt Herise’s direction for sharing her private business with a stranger. But of course, Aunt Herise had no notion about Dr. Delano’s thirst for Simon. To her, he was a perfect doctor. She trusted him.
“That is correct,” Gemma admitted.
“The alien escaped because of you.”
Gemma remained silent.
Dr. Delano didn’t seem put off by her reluctance to converse. “What did he do to trick you?”
“Nothing. I let him out.”
That got a surprised reaction from the doctor and the rest of the listeners. They all stared at her.
“You let him…”
“We’ve always known she was simple, Doctor,” Uncle Drexel interjected and Ravi and Leena nodded vigorously in agreement. “A dancer, what more can you say? She’s a distant relation. We let her live with us out of kindness but if she goes around letting dangerous prisoners escape, she has no place in our home. No place. An alien! God have mercy.”
Aunt Herise folded her hands on top of the table and leaned forward, her body language signaling a perfect agreement. She looked at her husband with pride for finally standing up for the family.
“You let the Rix out?” Dr. Delano repeated, focused solely on Gemma.
“I did.”
“You allowed him to escape?”
“Not exactly. Since you seem to be so well informed, doctor, surely you know that the Obu alien attacked me but I managed to get to Simon’s cell to let him out. He fought with the Obu. I had it all reported with the prison officials.”
Dr. Delano’s creepy eyes acquired a peculiar glint. “Simon, huh?”
“Yes,” Gemma snapped. “Simon.”
“He defended you?”
“Hard to believe, I know. But there you have it.”
Jubilation made Delano’s voice reedy. “Do you understand how singular it is for a human to have a Rix defender?”
“I feel truly blessed,” Gemma said dryly.
“Especially when that Rix is Simon. He’s not exactly pro-human, if you know what I mean. But since you cared for him in prison he might feel an obligation to pay you back.” He smiled and shook a finger at her. “Oh, yes. As soon as I suspected it was him, I headed to the prison and talked to some people. Shame on me for not having done it sooner. But of course, I’d believed him dead… Anyhow, I know all about your extra duties cleaning his cell, washing him, and taking him on outings in a wheelchair like a handicapped. Very clever.”
“Washing an alien?” Aunt Herise sounded strained. “You’ve been touching them creatures?”
Gemma felt a perverse desire to shock the McKinleys out of their narrow minds. “Many times and all over. With my bare hands.”
Herise shrunk back as if Gemma carried a deadly airborne virus.
Dr. Delano paid Aunt Herise no attention. “Was Simon the one who dismembered four Perali earlier this week?”
Gemma chose not to respond, which was answer enough for Dr. Delano. He laughed quietly.
“You don’t have to tell me. But who else?”
The word “Perali” roused Uncle Drexel. “Aliens are the plague upon this soil. They need to be eradicated for the evil they bring to us. And you, Gemma, cared for an alien criminal? You wanted to? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to, uncle.” She rose from the chair she’d taken earlier. “It’s getting late and we’re all tired. I am sure Dr. Delano is anxious to go home.”
“In a minute,” Dr. Delano rose as well and the orderlies followed his suit. “I came here looking for Simon, Gemma. Where is he?”
“I don’t know,” she said wearily. She wished she knew. She ached to know. But she didn’t.
Dr. Delano smiled thinly. “Forgive me for doubting your words. Fool me once, and all that.” His tone was no longer kind or even polite. The words came out sharp and short; playtime was over.
Gemma shrugged. “He escaped. He hasn't informed me where he is headed.”
“There must be a way for you to reach him.”
“There isn’t.”
“He favors you. That is the only reason he left you alive. Tell me where to find him. It’s important for science that I do.”
“You don’t need him.”
“That’s not for you to decide. Research needs him, to benefit patients like your uncle.”
“Experiments on subjects without their consent are not research. They’re torture.”
He seemed genuinely surprised. “If we start asking every guinea pig if it consents to participate in clinical trials, we wouldn't get very far, would we?”
“Does Simon look like a guinea pig to you, doctor?”
“He looks like an alien,” he stated flatly. “He has useful properties that I’d like to study in more depth.”
“He’s a rational, sentient being. Your treatment of him is unethical, not to mention cruel!” She was working herself up despite knowing that there was nothing she could say to Dr. Delano to change his convictions. A smart man like him knew right from wrong and understood the immoral nature of his research. He chose not to care. He was so cold she could feel the chill emanating from his dark soul.
He laughed and shook his head at her vehemence. “While I can appreciate your softer nature, Gemma, I’m afraid it’s wasted on the Rix. He has to be captured and contained. Apart from his usefulness to me, Simon is dangerous and unpredictable. It will do you good to remember the dismembered Perali and the prison guards whose small intestines had to be cleaned off the light fixtures. How’s that for a guinea pig?”
“Go to hell.” It felt good to say the words out loud, even though privately Gemma had to agree that Simon did possess a violent streak.
Seeing the futility of his methods, Dr. Delano hung his head in pretend despair. “I see you’ve decided to be obstinate. You’re giving me no choice.”
“I repeat, I don’t know where Simon is.”
“Well, Gemma. I wish I could continue treating your uncle, but under the circumstances, it’s no longer an option.”
Gemma’s heart skipped a beat.
Uncle Drexel issued a wheezing moan.
Herise gasped. “Dr. Delano, you can’t mean that. My husband hasn’t recovered!”
The doctor glanced at Herise dispassionately before eyeing Drexel’s bandaged arm. “Your niece is aiding and abetting a dangerous alien criminal who belongs in my lab. When Gemma produces Simon, I will continue working with
your husband. That’s where things stand.”
Aghast at the turn of the events, Gemma stood rooted to the spot. A small part of her hoped Dr. Delano was bluffing. He was a doctor, for god’s sake! He didn’t mean it!
She was afraid he did.
“But we paid in advance for five procedures!” Aunt Herise rose from her chair, her face chalky, her hands folded in supplication.
“You have to honor the contract,” Gemma forced the words through her teeth. “Uncle Drexel has two more visits.”
“There is no contract. And there will be no more visits,” his tone was sharp enough to cut glass. “And before you ask, no other doctor can help him. The treatments he’s been receiving are alternative methods that I developed in my lab.”
Aunt Herise rushed over to Gemma and grabbed her hand. “Gemma, tell him where to find this alien! Dr. Delano, she will tell you everything! And we have a little money left. Say the word, and we will make another payment.”
Dr. Delano continued his intense regard of her.
“Where is Simon?” he asked quietly, menacing and cultured at the same time.
“I don’t know,” Gemma whispered back feeling the first prickle of tears.
She truly had no idea. But as tears of helplessness and despair slid down her cheeks, she knew with absolute certainty that had she known, she wouldn't have told.
She looked around taking in Uncle Drexel’s anguished expression, noting how Aunt Herise seemed to have aged in a span of a few minutes, and the children… Desh’s wide-eyed uncomprehending look…
As if reading her mind, Dr. Delano stepped closer. “Yes, Gemma. Look at them. This family’s fate hinges on Drexel’s ability to work. Without treatments, he’ll lose his arm. Is one errant Rix worth their destruction?”
Gemma’s tears flowed harder. She didn’t answer, for there was nothing to say.
Seeing that his threats were gaining him no ground, Dr. Delano motioned for the orderlies to go. One walked ahead and held the door open.
“I’ll get Simon, with or without your help,” he threw over his shoulder. “He has nowhere to go.”
The door shut in his wake.
No one spoke for a long time. No one moved. Aunt Herise was the first to rouse herself. Face twisted in a mask of hatred, she went after Gemma, claws at the ready. Taking her unawares, she sank her nails into her niece’s cheeks.
“You bitch!” Herise screeched, “You filthy, sniveling beggar! Where is your stupid alien? Where is he?”
Gemma went on the defensive frightened by Herise’s intensity and attempts to do her physical harm. She kneed the woman in the abdomen forcing her to let go of her face and stumble back. Her cheeks stung where Herise’s nails broke the skin, the salty tears making the sting sharper.
“I don’t know where he is!”
“Find him! You let him escape. It’s all your fault.”
“How am I supposed to find him? Post an ad in Lost and Found?”
Herise slapped her. “You think this is funny? Ungrateful brat! Is that how you paid us back for our kindness?”
Gemma’s endurance reached its limits and something inside her broke. She pointed an unsteady finger at Aunt Herise. “You touch me again, I swear to God, I’ll smear my blood all over your face, and who knows what’s inside me from touching the aliens. I kissed Simon. On the mouth. You wanna risk it?”
Herise gasped and fell back a step. “A filthy alien whore… in my house!” She turned to her daughter. “Leena! Empty her drawers. Throw everything to the street.”
Leena, eyes swollen from crying and the upper lip liberally smeared with snot, ran into Gemma’s room.
“No, don’t touch my things!” Outraged, Gemma tried to follow but Uncle Drexel jumped from his chair overturning it and rushed to block her path. He roughly shouldered Gemma with his good side and his superior weight almost made her lose her footing. She twisted her body catching the table to break her fall and kicked Drexel square in his injured arm.
He issued a pitiful scream and crumbled, effectively taken out of commission.
“She hit me in my poor arm, Herise! She hurt my arm!”
Breathing heavily, Gemma looked wildly around. Aunt Herise had dashed after Leena to Gemma’s room and when the two of them came out, their arms were full of Gemma’s belongings. At his mother’s nod, Ravi threw the door open and out went her things, thrown down the five stairs to the wet cold ground.
Her tin can got busted open upon impact and the few brass dollars she possessed spilled out into the dirty puddle, sinking to the bottom. Panicked, Gemma ran out of the door, skipped down the stairs, and dropped to her knees by the puddle thrusting her bare hands into the numbing cold water to salvage her pitiful savings.
The door above her closed, and the lock engaged. With it, the light abruptly ceased and she was left in the dark with elbows deep in ice-cold slush, feeling for coins with numb fingers.
Chapter 24
She had joined the ranks of the homeless.
Wedged in a crevice between the buildings where she had once hidden from a Perali during a riot, Gemma contemplated her situation. By morning, the shock had worn off, but feelings of despair, of worry and fear, never came like she had expected them to. She was simply numb on the inside.
She crawled out and stood up, stretching. She would never have thought that sleeping would be possible in these circumstances, but as soon as she had gotten herself situated in her hidey-hole, her body had given up and she passed out. The cold hadn’t woken her. The cramps in her curled up limbs had never affected her sleep. It wasn’t normal, but she didn’t care. She was grateful for the respite.
She cast a critical eye around. The place left much to be desired even as a temporary base, except it had protected her during the night from being scoped out by the sweepers. As far as the pluses went, it was a huge one.
Gemma stuffed a bundle containing her clothes inside the crevice and covered it up with loose bricks.
She took off her hat and smoothed the hair under it before pulling it back on. She brushed up and straightened her damp coat. It was paramount to appear decent to potential employers. Migrants, cripples, former convicts, and other bedraggled homeless folk had no chance of being considered.
Gemma left her grotto and spent the day walking along the same route as yesterday visiting the school, and the Comm Center, and all the other places where all the other people went seeking opportunities.
There were none.
All too soon the dusk had fallen, and this time there was no home, however unwelcoming, for her to look forward to at the end of the day.
Starved, Gemma bought a slice of bread and cheese at the market and ate them right by the stall under pitiful glances from the woman who sold them to her. Smiling weakly at the seller, she moved away and shuffled back to the grotto.
Her second night turned out to be a whole lot less peaceful. She huddled under a pile of clothes she’d freed from her bundle and shivered from the cold for hours. The rocky ledge was uncomfortable, hard, sharp, and slanting, making her body want to roll out. She was thirsty not having thought about water. Of course, there was no tap at the grotto. And she possessed no cup or pot to fill with water. She was well and truly destitute.
As a sudden idea occurred, she pawed her belongings until she located the tin can with the brass dollars she’d been able to find in the puddle. Opening the lid, she carefully emptied the dollars into her pocket and set the tin can under the rain. It would take a while, but if the rain persisted, come morning she’d have a nice drink.
Relieved at having solved at least one small problem, Gemma crawled back in and closed her eyes. But the sleep wouldn’t come. Distant sounds of another fight echoed off the old brick walls. Once they subsided, the rumble of sweepers patrolling the streets made Gemma’s stomach clench, and she tried to wedge her body tighter into the hole, becoming one with the wall.
Please, please, she silently prayed to ward off the sweepers. The feelers were desi
gned to ignore enclosed structures like homes, but her little cave had no door.
The interminable night finally ended with gray winter dawn. It stopped raining, but her tin can had collected enough water for her to satisfy the worst of her thirst.
This time Gemma headed straight for the docks and took place in line. Her damp coat offered little protection against the morning chill. In this weather it would take days for the garment to dry, the days Gemma would spend in a state of permanent cold. It wasn’t the discomfort that worried her but the prospect of getting sick.
Inconspicuously, she sidled closer to a guy in front, using his bulky frame as a shield against the wind.
“What time do the docks open for business, do you know?” she inquired politely.
The guy turned and gave her an assessing look. “They never close. It’s the curfew that’s keeping people away at night. This your first time getting work here?” He looked like he’d been around the block and then some, with ruddy, scarred face and slanted, unfriendly eyes.
“Well, no, actually. I mean, I’ve stood in line, but so far no work… What about you?”
He scoffed and spit on the ground. “I get by alright.”
“Oh yes? That’s nice. Are you a mechanic?”
Her attempts at polite conversation seemed to puzzle the guy. Gemma was quickly figuring out the etiquette around here tended toward minding one’s own business.
“I can do basic repair stuff,” he shared with reluctance. “They mainly take me to take apart broken machinery, for parts. I’m fast like that.” He cracked his fingers.
“Is it difficult? Can a woman do it?”
“I’ve seen women do it, yeah. But those women, they aren’t like you.” He squinted at her. “Are you not from around here?”
“That I am,” Gemma smiled with self-deprecation. “Very much from around here. What do you mean, other women aren’t like me?”
The guy opened and closed his fingers as if frustrated at having to enlighten her. “They are larger than you. I’m guessing stronger. The parts are heavy. It’s hard work.” She detected pity in his response. He didn’t think she was cut out to work at the docks.
