by L. S. O'Dea
He shook his head. The House Servant’s feelings didn’t matter. He had business to take care of. “Buddy, stay here and make sure that they don’t leave. I don’t think Millie is in any condition to travel but I don’t trust Tim or my mother.”
“Where are you going?” asked Buddy.
“To see the good professor.” He was not looking forward to this.
“Do you think he’ll do it?” asked Buddy.
“It doesn’t really matter. My plan worked. I have Millie. Benedictine will have to fight to get her back.” He paused. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
CHAPTER 9
THE CARRIAGE TOOK OFF at a fast clip. Hugh relaxed against the seat, enjoying the contrast between the warmth of the sun and the crisp air of fall. The leaves were changing color and dropping from the trees. Soon, winter would arrive with its biting winds and harsh, frozen landscape, but today was gorgeous.
“Sue, update me on the encampment,” he said.
“One of the Guards saw me and started asking questions.” She looked at him, her brown eyes sad. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault.” Gaar would find the Producer. “Did you learn anything before you left?”
“I overheard one Guard say that the Producer’s trail just vanished.”
“That’s impossible. Isn’t it?”
“Yes. Even if she were killed by something, there would be scent and remains.”
He straightened in his seat. It was odd. A Producer didn’t just disappear.
“There are whispers that the river took her.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“They think she drowned?” All the lower classes could swim if needed. It was instinctual, but the river was deep and swift in some places.
“Not exactly. There are rumors...of things lurking in the waters deep in the woods.”
“What kind of things?” It seemed that lately there were more and more tales of odd, dangerous creatures in the forest.
“Large monsters who live in the water and snatch their prey when the poor thing tries to get a drink,” she said.
“Trust me. There’s nothing but small fish in the waters.” She was repeating one of the legends that the Almightys concocted. They even dressed a Guard or House Servant in a costume in an exhibit that they showed the other classes.
“If you say so.” She didn’t sound like she believed him.
He leaned back again. There had to be another explanation. Someone was up to something and the easiest way to keep others out of the forest, especially the uneducated, superstitious, lower classes, was to start these types of rumors. He didn’t have time for it. Good thing that neither Gaar nor Mirra would be bothered by such stories.
As they left the suburbs behind and entered the countryside, Sue began to breathe in short sniffs and her gaze moved away from the road and to the tree line. The carriage began to swerve and she quickly adjusted the Grunts back onto the roadway.
“Sorry.” She glanced at him.
“You miss this don’t you?”
She inhaled deeply. “I love the country. We used to run for hours.” She sighed. “I hate it too, if that makes sense.”
“It does.” Her former owners had used her and others like her for hunting. If her pack didn’t find food, then they didn’t eat. Even if they did bring down game, they had to fight for their share of what the owners didn’t take, which was never much since the largest animals out here were wild turkeys.
“When this is all over, we’ll go to my cabin and spend a couple of weeks.” He patted her shoulder. “We can hunt or just relax.”
“That sounds great.” A look of contentment slipped over her face.
She was a good Guard and he was glad that he could give her security for her senior years. Some Guards weren’t so lucky. There were others like him but not enough. Perhaps, he should take his mom’s advice and join one of the organizations that was fighting for laws against those who mistreated their Guards and House Servants.
Sue stopped the carriage in front of Conguise’s modest two-story, brick home. He hopped down from the carriage. He’d worry about the abused later. Right now, he had more important tasks to accomplish.
“We’ll try here first. If he’s not home we’ll go to the lab.” He nodded to the large building to the right of the house.
The laboratory was five-stories high and surrounded by a fence with barbed wire across the top. Bars covered the windows and Guards patrolled the grounds.
“I don’t like that place,” she said, sniffing the air.
“It’s not so bad. A bit closed in, but you get used to it.” He headed toward the house.
She secured the Grunts and followed. “What do they do in there?”
“They work on medicines and procedures to correct health issues.”
She inhaled deeply. “I smell fear.”
“I suppose it could be the lab rats.” He knocked, glancing back at Sue. “That’s a very acute sense of smell.” He didn’t add for a Guard, especially an old one but it was understood.
“Believe me or not, but I smell fear,” she repeated as an elderly House Servant opened the door.
“Hello, Barney,” he said. “Is the professor home?”
“I will see if he is available. Who may I say is calling?” Barney’s face betrayed no emotion.
“You’ve known me for years.” They went through this every time. He wasn’t sure why he fought it.
Barney raised an eyebrow and waited.
He sighed. “Fine. You win. Hugh Truent.”
“This way.” Barney led them to the study. “I will send in refreshments.” The House Servant turned and left.
He walked across the room to the window. The lab loomed over this side of the house, keeping it almost entirely in shadow. An elderly, female House Servant entered the study, carrying a tray with sandwiches and a pitcher of iced tea.
“Thank you,” he said.
She placed the food on a table and left without saying a word.
He hated this place. Only the top tier of the professor’s servants was allowed to communicate directly with the Almightys. Viola had been pestering him to visit, but he wasn’t sure he could remain civil for several hours. Conguise had been his mentor in college and after graduation, but they’d grown apart the last few years.
Sue stood across the room, licking her lips as she eyed the plate of food. If he allowed her anything to eat, the professor would throw a fit. He shook his head at her and her face fell. The professor was an ass.
Professor Peter Conguise walked into the study. His tall, thin frame dressed in his usual white coat. His glasses sat on his head mostly concealed by his thick, silver hair. He was around sixty but still fit and healthy.
“Hugh, what a pleasant surprise.” The professor’s welcoming smile died when it fell on Sue.
He would not leave her waiting outside; it wasn’t right, but he was there for a favor. “Sorry, Professor.”
Conguise paused for a moment, studying him. “I’ll never understand your fondness for these...other creatures.”
She turned and looked at him, worry in her large brown eyes.
“It’s okay, Sue.” He should have brought Buddy. Nothing fazed him.
“I assume that’s a sign of gratitude from one of them.” The professor made a waving motion by his own cheek.
He touched the cut on his face. He’d forgotten about that. “Mom’s House Servant and I had a bit of a disagreement.”
The professor’s lips curled in disgust as he sat in one of the chairs by the table with the food. “It’s good to see you. It’s been far too long. How’s my daughter?”
“Viola, is wonderful.” He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. She was better than wonderful.
“Should I call for champagne?”
His face froze. “Ahh, I...mean. No. Not yet. Soon though.” He hadn’t expected that. He should have. Conguise had been dropping hints about the two of them getting ma
rried for the past couple of months, ever since Viola had moved in with him.
“Don’t delay too long. The good ones won’t wait forever.” He gestured for Hugh to sit in the other chair. “How is work going?” He placed a sandwich on his plate.
“Good. The new tracking system is fully operational and exceeding my expectations.”
He paused and took some food, glancing at Sue. She was trying not to watch but her eyes kept wandering back to the sandwiches. He’d give her some just to piss off the professor if he didn’t need the man’s help.
“It’s actually a discovery that was made with the new program that brings me here.”
Conguise took a large bite of his sandwich. “Delicious. My own recipe.” He wiped the meat juice off his chin with a napkin. “I’ve gotten quite good in the kitchens. Had to find a hobby once you stole Viola from me.” He smiled kindly. “Sorry. Go on.”
As they ate, Hugh explained Trinity’s escape, the killings at the Producer Camp and the discovery of the mating and consequential offspring of a House Servant and Producer.
At this point, the professor broke his silence. “Impossible.” He stood and began pacing. “It can’t be. It is unheard of.”
“I know. That’s why I had to procure the mother.” Now for the tricky part. “And that’s where you come in.”
The professor stopped pacing and turned toward him. “Explain.”
That one word snapped out like a lash and immediately transported him back to his college years when he’d strove to please this Almighty. “Benedictine was in a blood lust over the killings and the escape. He was taking his anger out on the Producers. You should have seen what he did to the male. It was brutal.” He paused and ran his hand through his hair, scenes from the warehouse flashing through his mind.
“Slaughtering usually is,” said the professor. “Get on with it.”
He’d been rambling like a child. He was not a college youth any longer. He was an adult. A prominent, successful Almighty and he took orders from no one. He stared directly at the professor. “He would have killed the mother. So, I offered him the one thing that he desires above all else. I promised him that you would operate on his son in exchange for the female. His boy is in a wheelchair. Spinal injury. Occurred when he was young.”
“You did what?” Conguise dropped back in the chair. “You had no right.”
The truth of that stung. “I know. I couldn’t think of any other bargaining chip.”
The professor sighed. “It wasn’t your bargain to make.”
“I know, but Viola mentioned you were ready.” When the professor sighed it was usually a sign of resignation.
“Yes, but on someone not so connected. If something goes wrong...”
“You’ve had successes already.” This was going better than he’d expected.
“Not on an Almighty. We are physiologically different. You’ve never understood that.” The professor stood and began to pace again. “Let’s take this from the beginning. First, are you sure that the House Servant and the Producer had viable offspring?”
“Pretty sure, but I’ll need the offspring to be certain.”
“What if you can’t find her?” asked Conguise.
No one outside his family needed to know that he was going to use the Handler to locate the Producer. “That is a possibility. The odds that I’ll find her before Benedictine’s Guards are not good. That’s why I had to have the parents. If I put them in an environment suitable for reproduction, they may have more young.”
“You think they could?”
“The female is getting old but”—he scratched his head—“yes, I think it’s possible.”
The professor studied him for a moment. “Hmmm. You will need to bring them here.”
“I think, right now, it’s best if they stay with me. No offense, but Millie was severely traumatized by the killing of her assigned mate.” This was his discovery and he wasn’t about to share it.
“They have thick skin and small brains. She’ll forget about it in a day or so.”
“I don’t know about that.” An image of her terrified face was imprinted on his brain. He’d encountered many frightened Guards and House Servants over the years, but nothing like what he’d witnessed with Millie.
“Bring her by when she’s recovered. Her and the House Servant.”
He mentally bit his tongue at the command. “You’ll operate on Benedictine’s son then?”
“Bring me the parents and I will.”
Perhaps, he could use this to access level five. In college, he’d only had level-three clearance to the lab. He’d always wanted to get a peek at what the professor did on the fifth floor. The fourth was financial and he had no interest in that. “I’ll need full access. I have my own experiments to run.”
“You’ve always had access appropriate to your level of clearance,” said the professor.
“Then we’ll study them at my lab.” He was done playing the subordinate.
“No,” said Conguise, his voice firm.
“Why? What can you do here, that we can’t do at my facility?” If the professor thought that he was going to hand over the discovery of a lifetime, the man was crazy.
“It’s really very simple, Hugh.” He spoke as if to a child. “If you want me to appease Benedictine, then the Producer and House Servant will live here until I’m done with them.”
Over my dead body. “Fine. I’ll deliver them when Millie is well enough to travel. She was injured physically as well as psychologically.”
“I’ll put off the surgery until then.” Smug satisfaction flashed across the professor’s face.
“I told Benedictine to come and see you in three days.”
“What were you going to do if I refused to operate on his son?”
“I would have taken care of the situation.” His smile was humorless.
“You were my star student. I taught you this move. Get what you want first by any means and the rest isn’t important. Is it?” The professor patted him on the shoulder.
It hadn’t been like that, had it? “I had to get her away from Benedictine. She is no use to me dead.”
“I agree. All I want is some time to study them. Run some tests. You can have all the credit if this proves to be true.”
He didn’t believe Conguise for a moment. He stood. “I need to get back.”
“Tell Viola to come and visit her father. I miss her.”
“I will.”
“One more thing. Have Benedictine come to my office tomorrow with his son. I might as well run the tests. That’ll keep him happy for a while.”
“Thank you,” he said and walked out the door. That worry was gone. Benedictine would be pacified for the time being and he could move on with his experiments. Once he had the groundwork laid, he would work on convincing the professor to see Tim and Millie at his lab. There was no way his mother would let him turn them over to Conguise. She despised the professor almost as much as Benedictine.
CHAPTER 10
GAAR’S PAW-LIKE HAND shook Trinity’s shoulder, startling her awake. She sat up, brushing away the leaves and grasses that covered her. Gaar had shown her how to sleep as safely as possible on the ground. There weren’t many trees in this area and the few that did exist were too thin to climb. She gazed into the distance, her eyes slipping closed again. They’d traveled almost non-stop for two days. She’d dozed off-and-on while Gaar carried her, but this was the first real rest that she’d gotten.
“Get up. Mirra’s here,” he said.
Her eyes shot open. She’d missed the Tracker. Gaar had been grumpy and not good company. She packed her blanket in her backpack and grabbed a handful of nuts, washing them down with her water.
There was a whisper in the bushes and Mirra appeared. Her heart caught for a moment at the sight of the predator. At first, her instincts never recognized Mirra as a friend and her heart always skipped a beat.
Gaar smiled and rubbed Mirra behind the ears. The Tracker
tipped her head for a second and then stepped away. This was not a good sign. Usually, Mirra was ecstatic to see the Handler after an absence.
“You’ve removed the dead Guards from near the Finishing Camp, right?”
“Yes.” Mirra put another few steps between them. “They far away. They scent covered. We go free Trackers.”
It was not a question. Mirra was not going to like the change in plans.
Gaar nodded. “Yes, but first—”
“No, first,” said Mirra. “Trackers sick. Guards hurt them. Trackers weaker now.”
“Have you been back to the camp?” Gaar’s voice rose and his body seemed to enlarge with his anger. “I told you not to go there. It’s not safe.”
Trinity held the backpack like a shield in front of her, glancing from Tracker to Handler.
“Bah, it fine. Guard no catch Mirra. Guard leave. Walk right under tree. He no see Mirra. He no smell Mirra. He stupid.”
“They are not all stupid.” He stomped over to the Tracker until only a few inches separated them. “Do not go there again. Do you understand me?”
“We free Trackers. Now!” Mirra’s lips twitched, displaying her fangs.
“No.” His nostrils flared, as he held Mirra’s gaze.
They stood like this for several moments. Their breath came in pants and the hair on Mirra’s back bristled.
Trinity couldn’t let them fight. They didn’t really want to hurt one another. Mirra just needed her serum. “Gaar has to do one more thing. Then—”
The Tracker turned on her, teeth bared. She stumbled backward. Her heart didn’t just skip a beat this time but tried to escape through her mouth.
“Mirra go now!”
“I said later,” roared Gaar.
Mirra turned back to him, eyes gleaming. They stared at each other for a long time, circling as if sizing up their opponent. Then, Mirra blinked and glanced down.
Gaar’s shoulders sagged a little. “We’ll go soon. I promise. We have to keep Little One safe. You want that don’t you?” Gaar’s voice was still firm but the ferocity had left.
She eyed the Tracker. She wasn’t so sure that Mirra cared if she were safe any longer. A few minutes ago the Tracker looked ready to kill her.
