“You were not designed, Lore. The original Katarina was a bioengineer,” she explained. “Our mission is research.”
“What about the Borderlings, and the Vilkerlings?” I asked.
“These are designations unfamiliar to me,” she replied. “They are likely not associated with either corporation,” she added.
The sound of angry hornets was building again. Sim’Sci could hear it too. “You are growing fatigued,” she said, using her mouth to speak for the first time during our conversation. “When you wake again, it will be easier to filter our communication.”
“Is it always like this?” I asked. “Do you always hear this angry buzzing?”
“I hear them only when I am listening, as will you, but there is no emotion associated with them,” she replied. “The connection is strongest within the compound. It will fade when you leave us, and then you will only hear your Fae,” she explained. She stepped forward with the needle. I was tempted to stop her, but the buzzing was growing in volume. “In time, your system will adapt,” she reassured me, as she sank the needle into the tube connected to my arm, and the noise dissipated.
-CH 14-
That was the last real conversation I had with the Sim’Sci. When I awoke next my system had adapted, as she had assured me it would, which meant I could control the buzzing. I could single in on a particular thread of thought and conversation when I chose to, but mostly, I pushed the noise away. My Sim’Sci was not in the room, but her voice was the one I heard replying whenever I asked a question.
As usual, the first place my attention settled, upon opening my eyes, was M’Tek. She was still lying in the bed next to mine, and still sleeping, though her appearance had changed drastically. My gaze traveled over her face, searching for the lines with which I’d become familiar. Even the small crease at the corner of her mouth had vanished. The skin of her neck was tight. My gaze shifted to her hands next, to notice the smooth, soft skin I remembered. M’Tek was no longer aged.
As I watched her, I wondered when she would wake. The information came back to me, not in a voice, but a certainty. She was restored. She could wake any time I requested.
“Wake her,” I commanded aloud.
A male Sim’Sci appeared within a few seconds, and walked directly to M’Tek’s bed. He never looked my way, his broad shouldered form remaining between M’Tek and me, blocking my view. I shifted, determined to see what he was doing to her, watching as tubes, similar to the ones attached to me, were removed and placed on a shiny rolling metal table. Within moments his activity ceased, and he left the room. I was again alone with M’Tek.
I watched as she barely moved her arm, twitching the hand that still bore the faint stains from the ribbons where I’d bound it to mine. She tried to raise her arm and it dropped. She was still again. I took hold of the tube coming from my arm and peeled a thin film away from my skin as I’d seen the Sim’Sci do with M’Tek, and pulled the tube from my arm. It stung for a moment and bright red blood spurted across the white sheet, but I hardly noted it as I began working on the tube running along the inside of my thigh. My Sim’Sci appeared within seconds, stilling my hands, and efficiently finishing what I had started.
Suddenly I was free. I sat up quickly, shifting around to try to reach M’Tek. My Sim’Sci lowered the white rail on the side of my bed, and I was on my feet instantly. I felt dizzy as my knees began to buckle under me. My Sim’Sci wrapped an arm across my back and around my waist, helping me hobble over to M’Tek’s bedside. Another Sim’Sci appeared, producing a chair she placed at the side of M’Tek’s bed. One of them lowered the rail on her bed and I leaned over M’Tek, pressing my lips to her smooth forehead.
M’Tek was moving again, her hands grasping the bed beside her. I shifted back to give her room, as her eyelids fluttered. She blinked, as if the light was too bright. I could hear the buzzing in her head from the communication system, and I pushed my way into her head to block the noise, shielding her. She was swallowing hard, and I had the sensation of dry cracking leaves in my throat. I noticed an odd grey cup on the rolling table. I seized it and handed it to her before she could form the words to ask for it.
She accepted the cup gratefully, gulping the strange blue liquid it held, without hesitation. Her pale eyes settled on me, and a faint smile formed in the corners of her mouth. Her attention shifted to my Sim’Sci next. She regarded the woman with curiosity.
“Lore, my love,” she said with a raspy voice. “Where are we? What is this place? And who is that strangely dressed woman?”
My heart was pounding in my chest. My smile nearly split my face it was so powerful. I leaned forward and kissed her lips gently, and one of her hands reached to cup the side of my face. I shifted back.
“Don’t be angry,” I started. “Promise me.” M’Tek nodded. “I tried to bring you to Sim’Nu,” I confessed. “I found the Sim’Sci instead. This is their home. They’ve cured your plague.”
“That’s not precisely accurate,” my Sim’Sci corrected from behind me. I turned, alarmed by what she was saying. “The Progeroid 9 virus was no longer present in your Fae’s system when you brought her to us,” my Sim’Sci explained. “We simply reintroduced the Fae nanotechnology her system needed, and reset her,” she finished. I turned back to M’Tek before my Sim’Sci finished. “We did very little.”
“Everything’s going to be all right,” I said in a gentle tone, noticing the confusion on M’Tek’s face. I’d had days to become accustomed to the strange way my Sim’Sci spoke. Even after her experience with Sim’Nu, I imagined M’Tek would need time to adjust to their peculiar culture. “However it happened, you’re not sick anymore. You’ll never need another treatment from Sim’Nu,” I said, anticipating the questions forming in her mind.
M’Tek didn’t look pleased with this news. She closed her eyes for a moment. Images of her withering body flashed through her mind. I knew what was troubling her. She did not want to be perpetually trapped in a weak and withered shell. She didn’t want me to be burdened with her care.
“You’re healthy,” I assured her. Her eyes opened, and she forced a smile, trying to hide her desolation. “M’Tek, you’re young again,” I added, realizing she still hadn’t understood. I took her hand and held it, drawing her attention to the smooth skin.
“I’m healthy?” she asked, staring with fascination at our hands entwined. “But how is that possible?”
“The Sim’Sci are formidable sorcerers,” I replied. “Their magic is very strange, unfathomable at times, but potent,” I added. “They use old words in ways I’ve never heard, and half of what they tell me is unintelligible, but what I do know, is that they’re powerful,” I explained. “When I came here, I woke them after a long sleep. They have been healing you since.”
“We are scientists, not sorcerers,” Sim’Sci corrected. “We were offline. We do not sleep.”
I turned and grinned at my Sim’Sci. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me, but I’ll agree with anything you say,” I replied. “You’ve no idea what you’ve done for me.” And then it occurred to me. “Do you want anything in return?” I asked. “We never discussed payment. I’ll give you anything within my power,” I offered. “You need only ask.”
Sim’Sci smiled. “We are interested in the Fae nanotechnology that has integrated with your system, Lore,” I heard in my mind. “We have never seen one who is not Fae incorporate this type of technology successfully,” she added. “We would like to study what we have discovered in you. May we request your presence here, periodically, at your convenience, in order to observe the progression this technology takes?”
“Yes,” I said aloud, understanding very little of what was being asked of me.
****
My Sim’Sci informed us that they had done all they could. We were free to leave. M’Tek was impatient to return to Lareem Palace and eagerly set her attention on dressing. She surveyed the tunic she had arrived in with an expression of disdain, and then glance
d over at me. My heart felt light, as I watched her lift the garment and examine the bloodstains, and many holes in the material, all acquired during our desperate ride.
“Did you drag me here behind Sabea?” she asked, grinning. “I can’t wear this. I’ll look like a pauper.” I laughed, bringing my own clothes over to her for inspection. Though the Sim’Sci had done their best to clean my tunic, it was still stained with copious amounts of our blood, though I’d managed to acquire fewer holes.
“You can take mine if you like,” I offered. “Today, I’ll gladly wear rags.” M’Tek shook her head, wrapping her arms around me.
“My Queen will not wear rags,” she whispered close to my ear.
“Your Queen will wear what is available, unless you want her to go naked,” I replied, grinning. “I didn’t have time to pack,” I added.
M’Tek waited expectantly. She wanted to know what had happened, how she had arrived, what had preceded her collapse. I wasn’t ready to confess the role I’d played in nearly killing her. In an effort to distract her before she asked me directly, I thought a question to Sim’Sci about possible clothing alternatives.
Within seconds my Sim’Sci appeared with two very plain, pale, grey tunics. They were similar to the tunics the Sim’Sci wore, but with long sleeves and a deeper neckline.
“These were the uniforms worn by the technicians. Will they be suitable?” she asked in my head.
“They’re perfect, Sim’Sci,” I replied. “Thank you.”
Sim’Sci nodded and disappeared as M’Tek lifted one of the tunics. She pulled her gown up over her head and slipped the tunic on. She then sat on the edge of her bed to pull her boots on her feet.
“It’s extraordinary the way she does that,” M’Tek observed absently.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What did she do?”
“That Sim’Sci woman always manages to anticipate your needs. She’d make an excellent servant,” M’Tek observed in a pensive tone. “And sometimes, she looks at you, and then you appear to know what she’s thinking,” M’Tek added. “You even answer questions she hasn’t asked.” I smiled.
“You and I can do that, too,” I told her.
“I can read your moods, my love, but I can’t answer questions you haven’t asked me,” she argued, grinning. “No, you have a strange connection with that Sim’Sci woman.”
“Are you jealous?” I asked in her head.
“No, I’m not jealous. I was only…” she stopped. Realizing my lips hadn’t moved.
“It’s all right,” I said aloud. “You aren’t hearing things.”
“Are you certain?” she asked, appearing worried.
“I’m certain,” I replied. “I asked you if you’re jealous,” I added. “We’re part of their community now,” I said. “We can hear their conversations, and they can hear ours.”
“That doesn’t frighten you?” she asked quietly. I shook my head.
“I can block them out. I’ve been blocking them out of your head since you woke,” I explained. “It’s easy, once you know how.” M’Tek turned away from me, slowly tucking her tunic into her trousers.
“You’ve been blocking them from my head?” she asked, her back to me. “That means you’ve been in my head. Can you hear my thoughts?”
“Not really. I get feelings, and sensations, but unless you actually think in words, I can’t hear your thoughts.” She turned back to face me, forcing a smile, though I sensed she was uneasy.
“Can you stay out of my head for a while?” she asked gently. “Just until I know how to manage my thoughts.”
“I will, but you’ll have to learn to block them yourself if I do that. It’s an awful sound, all of them speaking at once,” I explained.
Realizing the best way to explain would be to allow her to experience it, I did as she asked and withdrew from her head. Her hands rose to cover her ears. Her eyes shut tight as she went down to her knees on the floor, pressing her ears. She started shaking her head, as if hoping to shake the sound from her ears. I pushed them out of her head and she dropped her hands. She gazed up at me. In the next moment she was on her feet.
“Are you ready?” she asked, her mood no longer light.
“You’ll get used to it, and then you’ll be able to control it, M’Tek,” I said trying to reassure her. “It took me a couple of attempts, but once you understand how to do it, it’s easy,” I added.
“How am I supposed to understand that?” she asked in a sharp tone. “Suddenly my thoughts are not my own,” she added. “That’s not something I’ll get used to.”
We left the Sim’Sci about an hour later. We walked along the rocks, looking for Shiroane, with no success. We continued walking until we reached the first straggling blades of yellow grass. Slowly, as we walked, some green grass appeared between rocks. After about an hour, we were crossing lush green grass reaching up to brush against our thighs. M’Tek was unusually quiet as she continued her attempts to push me out of her mind. Occasionally she succeeded, but a moment later her hands would cover her ears, and I’d slip back into her head to block out the noise. She was not adapting as easily as I had done.
After walking about two hours, I caught the scent of a fire and the sight of smoke over the rise. M’Tek offered a sidelong glance at me. I hurried my pace, eager to reach Shiroane and the horses. Over the next rise, I spotted the golden coat of my beloved Sabea. My horse was tied under a tree, her gleaming white tail swishing back and forth as she swatted flies. I grinned at M’Tek and we hurried down the hill to Shiroane’s camp.
We found the camp empty, except for Twyneth and Sabea, and what looked like flimsy metal bags containing strange food. I quickly started tacking Sabea, determined to ride out to find Shiroane, but we caught sight of her approaching over a distant rise, even before M’Tek and I had the horses readied. Shiroane rode up, weapons drawn, but when she saw M’Tek, she was off her horse in an instant. She dropped her sword and threw her arms around M’Tek. Shiroane had the advantage of height and weight, and easily lifted M’Tek from the ground, spinning her around once.
“Deus!” M’Tek called out, laughing loudly. “What are you doing? Put me down, Shiroane!”
“I can’t believe what I’m seeing!” Shiroane said, releasing M’Tek and stepping back to appraise her health, genuinely in awe of the Fae Queen’s miraculous recovery.
“Then you should never go where I’ve been,” M’Tek observed, still laughing at Shiroane’s impulsive behavior. “I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears. Lore seemed to handle it all pretty well, though,” M’Tek said glancing over at me.
“Who are those peculiar people?” Shiroane asked. M’Tek shrugged.
“They belong to Lore, somehow,” M’Tek observed. “More distant relatives?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. That’s when I noticed it. M’Tek’s eyebrows were darkening. Through the white hairs, jet black ones were already growing in.
“They call themselves scientists,” I volunteered, trying not to show my reaction.
“Well, they certainly don’t look Noge,” Shiroane commented. “I saw a few of them on different days,” she said. “They came to find me every day, bringing me the worst tasting, dried out food, and a strange blue beverage, and assuring me you were healing,” Shiroane offered. “Otherwise I might have given up on the both of you. I’ve been camped here for a week.”
We set out for Lareem Palace within the hour. M’Tek was eager to return home. Unfortunately, Shiroane’s horse, the one she had traded her own mount, Ballick, for during our desperate journey, showed signs of tiring early, and we had to slow our pace.
“Where’s Ballick?” M’Tek asked, eyeing Shiroane’s short, shaggy, horse with irritation.
“Lore hasn’t told you?” Shiroane asked, using my first name without thinking. M’Tek noticed the slip.
“No, Lore has not,” M’Tek said sharply. “Enlighten me,” M’Tek commanded. Shiroane, catching the danger in M’Tek’s tone, glanced over to me in a silent plea for hel
p.
“I traded Ballick for this horse,” Shiroane replied cautiously. “He has a good temperament,” she said, trying to find something positive to say about the trade.
“Why would you make such an idiotic trade? Had you lost a game of cards, or drunk an entire bottle of torppa?” M’Tek asked. “That animal is ancient.”
“She traded Ballick away because when we left Vilkerdam so quickly, we didn’t have time to pack?” I said quietly, answering for Shiroane. “She sacrificed her much loved horse because he was exhausted, and we couldn’t stop to give the poor animal rest. She had to take a bad trade because we were short of time, and desperately needed food,” I added. “I’m not certain I would have reached the Sim’Sci in time too keep you alive without Shiroane’s competent, and selfless assistance. We both owe her an immeasurable debt.”
M’Tek shook her head. “I apologize, Shiroane,” she said gently.
“There’s no need, my Queen,” Shiroane replied. “This horse has served me well. He helped deliver you to Lore’s, I mean Queen Loredana’s, relations.”
“What do you call this animal?” M’Tek asked.
“I never learned his name. I’ve been calling him Curly,” Shiroane said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “His mane is frizzy. It won’t lay down.”
“When we reach Lareem, you will select any horse you like from my stable. I’ll trade that horse for Curly. I’ll also locate Ballick for you, and see that he’s returned within the week,” M’Tek added. “I think Curly has earned the luxury of a nice green pasture for the remainder of his days.” I smiled. M’Tek was beginning to sound like herself again.
Our route to Lareem wound through the mountains, and then the high plains. Shiroane went into a small village and traded one of my knives for provisions and more appropriate attire. We then camped for the night in some of the least populated farmland in Faeland. The following day, the two times we encountered other travelers, M’Tek and I raised the hoods of our new cloaks, and pushed our horses faster to avoid being noticed. Through these efforts, we managed to reach the edge of the village of Lareem without being recognized.
The Changeling Page 26
