by A. L. Tyler
It was quite an opportunity, and she knew she would be stupid not to take it, even with how terrified she was of Rollin. The New Faith was finally calling her as one of their own…but something wasn’t right here. Lena gave the three men a sidelong glance. “Did you give him money?”
Three blank stares met her. As she looked from one face to the next, she wasn’t sure if she believed their innocent faces until Jason said, “Are you insane?”
Lena looked quickly down at her knees. “He mentioned a backer. He has enough guns to arm a small militia—and apparently he has. Someone is giving him money, and I think we can all understand that it’s obviously someone who has money to give.”
She looked back up. Jason looked shocked. The older men looked slightly taken off guard, but still composed—the political poker faces gained through years of experience. But Lena was almost sure they hadn’t known up to that point that Rollin had implicated one of their own in providing him the means to his ends.
She watched their frozen faces for several long moments before sighing and looking back off across the grounds through the greenhouse windows. She had finally gained their trust, and it sickened her more than she expected it too. She had become one of them—she had only too recently confirmed that the religion she represented was quite possibly true even if she wasn’t who her grandfather had said she was, and she was still all too willing to sell it out for a dog and pony show to drum up support for human-born representation. But only for the greater good, she told herself.
She shook her head, trying not to let herself sink into the depressing thoughts that haunted her. “Let me discuss the issue with my uncle, and let me see to the fact that my friend makes a full recovery. He might be able to tell me—us, things that we don’t know regarding Rollin. Until then, and under the condition that you get a vote to amend my travel restrictions to those of a regular Council Representative, assume I’m in.”
*****
CHAPTER 3
As had been her habit lately, she hardly touched her dinner that night. The wait was agonizing, but she finally followed Doctor Evans up the stairs to the room that Devin was being treated in. It was, ironically, just down the hall and around the corner from Griffin’s old room, and not too far from Master Daray’s room, either; how the tables had turned. Griffin had sworn Devin would never again enter Waldgrave’s halls, and now here he was, receiving the best treatment that money and bribery could buy in a room that had until recently been reserved for Daray’s most loyal supporters.
When they got to the door, the doctor opened it and motioned Lena in as a tearful Cheryl quickly scampered out and away down the hall. Lena gazed after her; it was the first time she had seen the girl since returning to Waldgrave. Someday soon she was going to have to have a serious conversation with Cheryl—Kelsey—regarding her long lost family. Not too long after that, if the Council approved lifting her current travel restrictions, she suspected the two of them would be taking a trip together; Cheryl wouldn’t be returning from that trip. Lena wasn’t sure yet how she would explain her absence; in a perverse way it might work to her advantage that everyone thought that Cheryl was just another human-born, because they might not even notice if she went missing.
“She’s been near a permanent fixture up here while we’ve let her. Poor girl. So worried about him, just sits up here, watching and crying. I wish there were more we could do.” Doctor Evans cast a wary glance after Cheryl, and then looked over at Lena. “Such noble creatures to let themselves feel so deeply.”
He led her into the room, where a screen had been set up around an area in the corner of the large bedroom; she drew in a deep breath when she saw it. Lena watched the doctor’s back as he walked towards the curtain, trying to prepare herself for what was coming. But when Doctor Evans took her beyond the stark curtain, she found it really wasn’t that bad.
He was a cocoon; a yellow blanket obscured everything but his pale and glistening face. His body was bulky beneath it, swelling unnaturally around the abdomen, where Lena imagined he had a great deal of bandaging. There were many cords and lengths of piping sticking out from under the blankets, belonging to various machines and drips stationed around the bed. Blood going in, blood going out, blood going back in; nutrients being fed to him. The blue respiration tube that someone had carefully forced down his throat looked achingly uncomfortable, but the doctor’s words that Devin probably didn’t even know where he was, let alone if he had both kidneys, floated back to her. His hair was darker than she ever remembered it being, but perhaps it was because he had lost so much blood, and his face was paler by comparison.
She walked to the head of the bed, edging past what she suspected was the machine filtering waste out of his blood, and carefully laid one hand on his cheek. He was cool and clammy, and didn’t respond at all to her touch.
Devin?
Beneath his closed eyelids, she saw his eyes move.
Devin, if you can understand me, I’m not going to hurt you…You’re okay now, and I’m here, and I’m going to check on you, okay?
She felt her throat go dry as her hand moved up to his forehead so that her thumb rested just above his left eye. Trying not to shake, she carefully peeled the lid back. His pupil didn’t contract, and he didn’t close his eye on his own when she let go, but she found herself so happy that she could have cried. He was still going to live.
She looked up at Doctor Evans, who was leaning casually on a piece of equipment on the other side of the bed.
He cracked a smile. “Just checking? Good news, then?”
Lena tried to let herself smile, but it didn’t come naturally. “Yes. Good news.”
His tone was almost a chuckle. “How I wish I had your talents, Ms. Collins, they would be absolutely invaluable in a career such is mine. Your grandfather wasn’t nearly as forthcoming as you were about such things.”
Lena watched the smug and delighted look on the doctor’s face. He was, perhaps, the only other person besides Griffin that Daray had allowed into his personal life and dealings. Lena tried to smile good naturedly. “Oh, no?”
The doctor gave her a nod. “Not at all. He was quite secretive, as you may have guessed. You’re quite different, the two of you. I must say, not to dishonor your family, that I would be quite pleased to continue to be in your service now that the work will be more pleasant.”
Lena looked into his eyes. “Yes. He was a very secretive man. You know, I never found out what, exactly, he died of.”
The doctor’s face fell slightly. He scratched his head and glanced up at her apprehensively.
Lena’s eyes narrowed. “I can make it worth your risk, if that’s what you need, but I don’t see how you have any. He’s been dead for weeks…”
The doctor took a loud breath, cutting her off. “It’s a funny thing about twinning and Silenti. It doesn’t happen frequently that there are twins, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. You’re the only Silenti born with a twin that I’ve ever met, and I’m betting you would say the same.” He gave her a steady gaze. What was that supposed to mean? “Miss Collins, I trust that you have enough political and social tact to keep this information to yourself. Am I correct?”
Lena stared at him. He was very suddenly the most interesting person she had ever met. “Absolutely correct.”
The doctor smiled. “Your grandfather detested official diagnoses, as they have been on record since the nineteen-forties in our world and he never saw what business it was of anyone else’s what ailed him. So, if you went to look, you would never find, legally speaking, that there was anything wrong with him. Legally speaking. I never gave your grandfather a diagnosis for his condition, but allow me to speculate out loud. First and foremost, twinning, and probably the majority of twins occurring in humans, is caused by selective behavior in some Silenti origin genes. Probably the vast majority of all Silenti have genetic twins, triplets, or even more multiple conceptions, but the process in our case involves all of the genetic material for each sex c
onglomerating back into two children, one male and one female, and the weaker of the two dies and is reabsorbed within the first few weeks. This is what makes your existence such a miracle—your mother carried both you and your twin brother to term. However, I digress. One child out of so much DNA typically gives us wider genetic bases for stronger immune systems and greater access to the natural Silenti gifts afforded all of the DNA in the one child, among other benefits. In theory, the body gets divided up—some organs belong to one child, others to another, the immune system and circulatory to a third, and so on and so forth. Now, in some of these cases, the systems intertwine, which is ideal, but in others systems can be completely isolated, which is less ideal because other sets of DNA will not be able to compensate if the one set the controls, say, the immune system, fails. I speculate, mind you, that this was what snagged your grandfather. I speculate that one of his absorbed brothers was human and not a Silenti, and this set of DNA was responsible for his total lack of immune system. He somehow became afflicted with HIV at a very young age, and his body’s only defense since that point was organ regeneration whenever disease set in. You see, without an immune system, his organs developed infections and eventually died and began to rot inside his body. It was hard keeping up removing all of the necropsies that set in, and eventually he just couldn’t keep up. Ultimately, I suspect it was a stroke of some sort—a blood clot lodged in his brain because he wasn’t able to function correctly anymore, and his blood had thickened because he had stopped generating his own blood. God, we had him on transfusions and thinners for years, just to give him a little longer. His father brought me in on the case when he was young, only twelve or so, before he had even been introduced in society. Without the treatments he would have died, which is why his case is unique—Silenti children probably die from this affliction all the time, but we don’t know they’re Silenti because the assumption is that all Silenti are immune to HIV due to thickened cell walls on the majority of our white blood cells.” Here he paused for a moment. “Had I given diagnosis, it would have proven the assumption false, and might have saved many lives—some Silenti have human immune systems, and those require additional care. But I’m sure you know how so many of Master Daray’s supporters looked upon humans and human-born Silenti, Miss Collins, and speculating that I’m correct, you can see why he didn’t want this diagnosis. Human blood taints.”
Doctor Evans gave her an unblinking, significant look as Lena tried to take in everything that he had said. It was terribly significant—more so than the doctor even realized. She had no clue what had happened in the fire so many years ago, or if her grandfather was actually her grandfather, and that fact aside if he was even biologically a Daray. But the fact that he had absorbed a human twin spoke that he wasn’t who he had claimed to be; that, or the Darays had been integrationists and had more family secrets than she gave them credit for. But could human blood have spoiled him of his ability to read the old books? And still, what of the conflicting family trees? Either way, she could see why Master Daray had hidden the fact.
“Well,” she said, trying not to sound too anxious, “That’s interesting. Do you have any ideas on where he was exposed to the virus? I mean, do you know if his mother had it, and maybe passed it to him at birth?”
Doctor Evans brought his hand up to his mouth in the gesture that he was thinking. Lena watched his eyes drift around the small curtained room for several minutes before he gave a hesitant answer. “I’m supposing that doctor-patient confidentiality—well, your grandfather is dead, so I suppose it doesn’t apply there. His mother never had it, I’m sure, because I saw her once or twice to diagnose her fertility problems. Like your mother, she developed severe uterine regenerative scarring from rough delivery and eventual emergency cesarean, which prevented further pregnancies. It’s that you’re just not built for childbearing, so I suggest if you ever decide to—“
Lena smiled weakly. “There will never be any children, Doctor, but thank you for telling me.”
“And that’s your decision.” He nodded at her. “But as I was saying, I believe his wife was more suspect.”
“Olesia?” Lena asked.
“Yes. Olesia. I have no idea how she became involved in all of this, the poor child. She was just around the same age as young Master Daray, but so willful. She was a passive-aggressive sort, never talked much but did her fair share of glaring and locking herself in her room. I had the pleasure of knowing her confidentially, as family doctors do, and she was very politically motivated. I believe she was even jealous of your grandfather and his inherited position amongst the other Council Representatives; I say I believe that because she didn’t like to talk about him, or her past. I suspect she was the source of the exposure because she was very obviously not a full Silenti. I never found anything physically condemning to that effect, but she just never developed. She wasn’t a strong thought-speak user, she didn’t dream as we do, she never had premonitions. Again, I have no idea how she came to be the wife of your grandfather or what your great-grandfather must have seen in her to make that decision, but so it was. She may have been unknowingly carrying the virus, but wasn’t susceptible due to that fact that she had a Silenti immune system. Contamination was never an issue back then, because there are so few illnesses that we can traffic to each other, but we were still experimenting with the idea of inoculations. We often reused the needles, and I’m afraid to say that sharing a needle between the two at some point may have done it.”
He looked back at Lena, who sat in silence trying to take it all in. He had been exposed through his wife? He had commented once that Lena reminded him of his wife; no wonder he’d seemed to hate her so much. It might have been motive enough to set the fire that killed her, but if that was the case, then where were her ashes? Daray was a compulsive collector, and if he had access to having them he would have had them on display with the rest. Or maybe, if he hated her that much, he would have gotten rid of her altogether…?
“You’re sure he got it from Olesia?” Lena asked.
“Absolutely not.” The doctor said without pausing. “There are other possibilities.”
Lena looked back up at Doctor Evans, who had been watching her quiet contemplation. Lena gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I never knew a whole lot about this side of my family, and I guess it’s interesting to me. I wish I had more family to know.”
Doctor Evans smiled back, and then sighed. He grabbed a folder from behind him, flipped it open, and then started marking things down as he checked Devin’s vital signs. He went to lift the blanket, presumably to check Devin’s staples and stitches, and paused. “You might want to step out for this…”
Lena stepped outside the curtain and looked around at the richly adorned room while she waited for the doctor to call her back in. Moments later, however, he stepped out with her; once again, he was all smiles and professionalism.
“He’s going to need some rest, so I suggest we leave him alone until he’s more awake and aware. I’ll keep you updated, if you like, and we can come up together again tomorrow?”
“Thank you, that would be excellent. And of course, thank you for bringing to my attention your concerns Silenti with human immune systems. I believe I would like to fund your efforts, if you decide to research the subject further.” Lena compulsively stuck out her hand, and the doctor shook it; he allowed his grasp to linger for just a moment, and then brought his other hand up to cover hers completely.
“Miss Collins, I wonder if you might be able to keep one more secret?” He leaned in towards her, his kindly old eyes holding a slight touch of mischievousness. “One that most definitely might fall under doctor-patient confidentiality?”
Lena looked him up and down, and then gave him a nod. He gestured for her to follow him to a computer stationed on a desk across the room, and after searching through a date book, he jotted something down on a slip of paper and handed it to her. Lena studied it momentarily; it was a street address in S
outh Carolina. She looked back up at the doctor. “What’s this?”
“Um…well.” He scratched his head, squinted his eyes shut, and then looked back at the curtained space across the room. “It’s an address. Olesia asked me once to write to someone, a sister, I suppose, who lived there. But I have no idea if she’s still there. I got the impression that most of her family were as secretive and private as she was, and I don’t think they would take kindly to the Council having hold of this address, if you catch my meaning.”
Lena raised her eyebrows, and shared a knowing nod with the doctor. Her heart almost skipped a beat; any information about either Pyrallis or Olesia might shed light on what had happened so many years ago, and who Lena really was. “I do. I’ll be sure this stays between us then…doctor-patient confidentiality. Thank you so much.”
He showed her to the door, and Lena went back down to her room for the night. It was all so confusing; if Doctor Evans had known Pyrallis, the Daray’s son, since he was young, then he most certainly couldn’t have been an imposter who stepped in after the fire. But then who was Jack Durand? And why was Olesia listed as the Daray’s daughter in some of the family trees? She tucked the address that Doctor Evans had given her into her journal, determined that she go there someday soon when her restrictions were lifted.
Devin’s recovery was slow and weak; amazingly, he had managed to regenerate the portions of his liver that he had lost. The doctor assured them that while he probably didn’t have the DNA to regenerate the kidney he had lost, he would be able to function on just one. When he was able to communicate finally, he told Lena that her escape, and Rollin’s subsequent extreme and fanatical hunt for the one who had helped her, had driven off a great deal of his supporters. It had been Tab that had turned him in eventually, scared for his own life and others; Rollin had threatened to start killing at random if the culprit wasn’t found. Even though Rollin’s group had somewhat disbanded, and everyone was glad the immediate threat was over, Lena doubted it would take him long to regroup. He was a very charismatic speaker, he had a real cause, and there were a lot of suffering human-borns out there.
