Shiny and black. Quite beautiful.
The gazelles had short faces, black noses, right up to their eyes, which were huge and amber, glinting in the light.
The smaller one bleated at her, a pretty sound. Like a sheep that had been run through some kind of electronic synthesis.
Lydia took a step toward them.
They both stood their ground. The larger one's eyes flicked toward Samena, and back to Lydia.
"They don't come up to people," Samena said. "I mean, the groundskeeper is the only one who comes in here, but they keep their distance from her."
"More than this?" Lydia said. The pair of gazelles were about three feet from her. Just beyond touching distance.
"Much more. They'll hide behind shrubs and keep a wary eye out."
Lydia took a step forward.
The gazelles didn't move. They did keep watching Samena.
An artificial chime came from Samena. Both gazelles inclined their heads at her.
"I'm being paged," Samena said. "Some people are not happy that we're out here."
"Administrative people?"
"Exactly."
"Are you going to get fired?"
"No. They need me. I think. Could be wrong. No big deal either way. I'm eminently employable."
"Good to know." Lydia gave Samena a smile. Nice that she knew that about herself and was prepared to own it.
"So," Samena said. "What happens now?"
"Let's find out."
Lydia held her hand out toward the gazelles.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
High overhead a soaring bird trilled, sharp and long, as if agitated. It was white with green stripes on its belly. It held its wings out as it glided along. Just like the condorenes in Lydia's painting.
"You've attracted a lot of attention," Samena said.
"That wasn't my plan," Lydia said. "Not a bit."
Another bird swooped in, joining the first. Far above them both, puffy clouds shifted, their bases gray as if laden with rain.
The taller of the gazelles took a step forward. It inched its nose toward Lydia's hand. Beyond, her reflection looked back at her from one of the hospital's silvered windows. Air exchange units on the roof hummed.
The smaller gazelle gave a quiet bleat, and followed it with a whuffling sound. Almost like a sneeze, but more intentional.
"Maybe has some alpaca genes in there," Samena said. "They like to snort at people. Blast mucus from their nasal passages to discourage you from getting close."
"Lovely."
"But I don't think it's doing that. I think they like you."
"Yes."
"And they're still suspicious of me. I'm going to take a step back."
Chimes came from Samena's clothes again.
"They want to talk to me," she said. "I'm going to shut it off."
"Good. Thank you."
Lydia turned her hand over, so the palm was showing and the gazelle leaned in.
The tendrils across her wrist and the heel of her hand wavered.
"I'm worried," Lydia said. "What if they do to the gazelles what they did to Arnt?"
A banging sound came from the sealed hatch.
Both gazelles bounced backward. All four feet coming off the ground at once, and all landing at once. Very agile.
Lydia stepped away from the hatch.
The garden lay around her, complex and well-tended. Trees and shrubs. Grassy areas, mossy areas, some patches of wildflowers. The scents were rich and heady.
There were some stepping stones around, but they felt more token than anything. This wasn't really a garden for people. Sure, they could enjoy watching it from within the hospital building, but that was all.
She was a transgressor.
Though, she felt invited.
She kept moving away from the hatch. Samena stepped up on top of it.
"Just for the view, you understand," she said. "Not because I'm thinking anyone else might be hindered in getting through."
"Of course not."
The gazelles followed Lydia along.
Their feet were black. Two toes with thick nail. Were those hooves? They moved surely through the vegetation, stepping in gaps.
About ten feet from the hatch, Lydia stopped. There were leafy trees around her, mostly smaller. One, near the center of the garden, loomed over everything, at least forty feet tall. The trees closer to her were more like six or eight feet. They had waxy, oval leaves. A stream of tiny black ants hurried along the branch of one.
One of the gazelles reached to the same branch and grabbed one of the leaves with its mouth. The gazelle's head pulled back and the leaf popped off. The branch shook and rustled and the gazelle chewed.
"You're very cute," Lydia said.
The other one leaned its snout forward and bumped at Lydia's hip.
"Hey," she said, and touched the gazelle's head with her right hand. The gazelle lifted its head and Lydia rubbed at scratched. The gazelle kept pressing in.
"You're like a dog," she told it.
But they weren't pets, and she hadn't come out here to ruffle them and play.
"How is it going?" Samena called over. "They're responding to you?"
"Yes they are." Lydia lifted her left hand again.
Both gazelles leaned in. The tendrils responded, leaning toward the animals. The gazelles' nostrils flared.
The smaller gazelle made the whuffling sound again. The larger one looked at Lydia, eyes practically glowing.
"What's going on?" Lydia said. "There's definitely something there."
The gazelle leaned in. Lips close to Lydia's wrist.
The other gazelle watched closely, leaning right in.
The gazelle put its mouth on Lydia's wrist. Lips right over the largest of the holes. With the biggest nodule and the longest tendril.
The gazelle's tongue pressed again her wrist. Sticky and rough. The tongue moved around. Exploring her skin, exploring the nodule.
The gazelle's teeth began nibbling around the soft flesh of her wrist. It tickled.
"Okay over there?" Samena called. "Looks like it's trying to have you for dinner. I'm sure they're just grazing herbivores, but they are hybrids, so you never know. There might be some cheetah or hyena in the mix.
"It's tickling," Lydia said. It was reassuring, really. The gazelle's touch was firm, but still gentle.
"Don't turn it into a pet. We need them to keep the garden functioning."
The gazelle pulled its head back. It licked its lips and turned. It spat at the ground.
Already the other gazelle was pushing in and grabbing at Lydia's wrist with its mouth.
"Easy there," Lydia said.
But the sensation was similar. Licking and chewing gently. Sucking too. Almost like it was suckling. As if it was getting some kind of nutrition from her.
A cool wind whiskered around her, ruffling her hair. The birds with the striped bellies glided by again. The clouds seemed to be descending and settling. Seemed to be ready to dump sixteen inches of rain over the course of an hour.
The second gazelle released her arm, licked its lips and turned to spit.
The first one began sucking again at her.
"Is this a good idea?" Samena said.
"It's fine." Lydia's arm tingled. Tiny sparks of something riding around like little whirlwinds all through her wrist and hand. Rising on through her forearm and to her elbow.
The gazelles continued. Licking and nibbling and suckling. They alternated. Each time they leaned back, the other taking over, they would lick their lips and spit.
"It's like something from the old west," Samena said. "As if you're snake-bit and they're sucking out the venom."
"Does that actually work?"
"Nope. Unless you're thinking of the psychology of the person doing the sucking. At least they feel like they're doing something."
"Figures. I don't think they're actually really sucking anything out. Its very different to with Arnt."
The tend
rils farther up her arm, beyond where the gazelles were putting their mouths, were leaning in and tapping at the animals' muzzles.
Not digging in.
"Are there cameras here?" Lydia said. "Is something recording all of this?"
"Yes." Samena stepped from the hatch and walked slowly over.
The larger gazelle was licking its lips while the smaller one pressed its mouth against Lydia's arm. The larger gazelle spat. It watched Samena warily.
"It should be Mel out here," Samena said. "Instead of me."
"Well, I'd say it's better to have your experience, right?"
"Are you calling me old?"
"I'm saying she's inexperienced."
"I know. Teasing. But, listen, she's a researcher too. She'd be examining this and be able to come up with papers to write about it. I mean, there's still the concern for your well being, of course. What I mean is that this is unprecedented, really. A symbiote. Genetic hybrids reacting like this to it. I should stop talking. I'm kind of running off at the mouth."
"It's fine. If there are papers to write, then that's good. That helps for people to whom this might happen in the future."
"You're being very objective about this. Me, I'd be freaking out."
"You're a doctor!"
"Exactly. I think that your symbiote is filtering your responses. Calming you. Making you accepting of it."
"I thought symbiotes were supposed to be mutual. We both get something from it. Not having it manipulate me. Mind control."
"Not like. I don't think so. More like it comes with its own immunity suppression system."
"You mean like those drugs transplant patients have to take. To stop their bodies rejecting the organ?"
"Yes. Genetic hybrids. Designed. Crafted in a lab to be able to integrate. Right down at the DNA level."
"This is changing my DNA?"
"Maybe. Possibly. Still a lot of tests to do."
The larger gazelle returned to suckling and chewing. While the smaller one licked its lips and spat, the larger one began tugging Lydia along. Drawing her farther into the garden.
The gazelle walked backward, keeping its mouth well-gripped on her wrist. The animal's tongue continued to play across her skin.
Lydia walked with the gazelle.
The bird with the green stripes soared in low toward them. The bird's bill opened as it passed close overhead and it squawked.
"You're like a wildlife hub here," Samena said. "You're attracting everyone."
"I can feel it."
The gazelle continued drawing Lydia along. They brushed through some shrubs, sending up swirls of tiny insects. Their wings glinted in the daylight.
The gazelle slowed and drew Lydia to a stop when they'd reached about halfway across the garden. Through the shrubbery and brush, the transparent fence was just visible. Not perfectly transparent—it partially reflected the hospital walls and the growing clouds.
Still holding Lydia's wrist in its mouth, the gazelle stomped and scraped at a bare patch of ground. It began digging a small trench, drawing its foot through loose soil.
The gazelle let go, but right away the other one grabbed hold. Both of them were digging in the soil now. It was darker below. Damp. Roots and rocks showed, breaking and rolling up as the pair of gazelles dug further.
"Okay," Samena said. "This is getting weird."
Both gazelles stopped their digging.
The smaller gazelle held on and folded its front legs back kneeling to the ground. Bringing Lydia right down with it.
The rich smell of the damp earth wafted up at Lydia. It felt warm and healthy. A tended garden, rich with hummus. Good complex soil for strong garden growth.
The larger gazelle knelt too, and grabbed hold of Lydia's arm. Just between the smaller gazelle's mouth and Lydia's elbow.
She leant her head back so she didn't get poked by their sharp horns. This close, she could see that they were smooth and shiny, but still made up of vertical fibers, running from the root at the tops of their heads, right up through the wider parts.
Together, the gazelles pressed Lydia's arm into the trench they'd dug.
The larger one let go. Right away it began nosing the soil back in. Pushing it over Lydia's arm.
The other gazelle released too, and joined the other in covering Lydia's arm. She was too surprised to move.
"My gosh," Samena said. "They're planting you."
Chapter Thirty
From far off came a crack of thunder. The sound rumbled around the hospital's garden.
From the heavy, rolling clouds came the first flecks of rain. They pattered into the soil around Lydia's arm.
She moved around so that she was more comfortable. Lying out.
The gazelles continued to push soil up over her arm. Until her hand was covered, and her forearm right up to her elbow.
"I'm taking photographs," Samena said. "Video and audio."
She had a phone out, just held loosely at her side. It would be gathering everything. Probably the kind of information that wouldn't get automatically parsed into a nice package. It would all be sent raw into a database.
Perhaps even something that Mel, the other doctor, would look at.
More than just Mel. Geneticists, ecologists, climate scientists.
"This is unique, isn't it?" Lydia said. "Gazelles planting someone."
"I'd have to check," Samena said. "But that would be my sense of it. Unique behavior. Lots of questions right now as to why."
The pair of gazelles moved back. They stood side by side, flanks pressed into each other. Both of them bleated at Lydia.
"Perhaps they're explaining it," Lydia said.
There was movement under the soil, and she could feel it through her arm. The tendrils digging at the soil. Feeling their way through.
Almost like little worms.
The twinges ran through her arm. More tingles and little sparks.
The rain was intensifying. Heavier drops coming in. They made little craters in the loosened soil around her arm.
The soil was dampening quickly. The dust coagulating.
Lydia's tendrils continued to twist through the soil. As if they were enjoying it.
"You know," Samena said, "I'm not so sure that it's a great idea to, you know, just lie there on the wet ground."
"Something's happening with my arm. The tendrils are burrowing."
"Burrowing."
Lydia's arm was warm. And the warmth traveled on up through her. Up her arm, through her shoulder and down her back. Up her neck. Through to her other arm.
"We can't let this continue," Samena said. "Bringing out to see the gazelles was one thing. This is a whole other thing. I'm going to call Mel. Let her come up here and help out. Maybe some others too."
"The corporates?"
"Not them." Samena stepped back and spoke into her phone.
Ripples ran through Lydia's arm. Strange pressures and tugs. It was as if she was pushing her arm through soft sand, with debris in it. Saturated driftwood and shells and bones.
Samena was speaking. Not to Lydia.
The soil felt dynamic. As if it was a living thing too. As if it was petting her. Nibbling as the gazelles had done.
But more forcefully. It was becoming abrasive. Chewing and cutting.
Lydia held on. This had to be right, didn't it? The gazelles knew what they were doing. She had to trust them.
But it was starting to hurt. Acidic and stinging.
She pulled back. But her arm wouldn't budge.
"Samena," Lydia said. Her bicep was beginning to cramp. Spasms latched into her gut.
She turned on her side. Bent up her legs.
"Lydia?" Samena said.
"This wasn't such a good idea." Lydia reached her right arm around and began scrabbling at the soil. Digging into it.
The rain pelted in. A flash of lightning blasted, followed a moment later by the gunshot of nearby thunder.
"We shouldn't be out here in this anyway," Samena sa
id.
The gazelles seemed unperturbed. They stood, still right next to each other. Just watching her.
Animals. Genetic hybrids. What did they know anyway?
The pain continued. Worsening. Like thousands of pinpricks all along her arm. All over her hand.
As if she'd scraped her skin and someone was rubbing salt into the flesh.
Samena came over. She put the phone down and began digging too.
"Careful," Lydia said. "It's gotten real sensitive."
"I saw your face. It was pretty obvious something was up."
Lydia's vision was getting fuzzy. A dull headache was growing. Right behind her eyes. Pressure.
One of the gazelles bleated. Almost as if it understood. As if it knew she was in pain.
"These tendrils," Samena said. "They're..."
"They're what?" Lydia looked, but with the rain and her vision, she couldn't really see. Maybe some tendril tips reaching up from the soil.
Maybe.
"Changing." Samena kept digging.
There came a quiet crack of thunder again. Too quiet. Not thunder at all. That hatch. From the steep stairway where they'd come up.
A bird flew down. Oblivious to the rain. The bird was a deep brown, with other colors, but still a blur to Lydia.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision.
The bird chirruped. It hopped closer. Moved between Lydia and Samena. Hopped on toward her buried arm.
"That's weird," Samena said.
"You're getting wet," Lydia said.
"I know. I'd grab you out, but I'm worried about doing more damage here. Your skin is reacting with the soil. It's very dynamic."
"Reacting."
"I won't call it rooting, but that's a vague approximation."
"The tendrils."
"More than just that. Parts of your skin are... I can't give you diagnosis. Lie still and we'll keep working on this."
"Tell me. Don't pretend this hasn't all gone south very quickly."
Another flash of lightning accompanied almost immediately by a crack of thunder. The building shook, rattling with it. Lydia felt the blast right through her sternum and skull.
"Never great to be outside in a storm," Samena said.
"I find it refreshing," Lydia said. "Invigorating. You should see the storms we get at the beach. They roll in out of the deep ocean. They churn everything up. Throw the dunes into disarray. Hurl hapless pirate vessels right over people's houses. The lightning could power Chicago for a year."
Lydia's Mollusk Page 8
