by S. M. Wilson
He’d missed it. It had been right in front of him and he’d missed it.
The care worker looked pointedly in their direction. She gestured with her head. “It’s them. They had the ointment. Arta started using it on her inside arm without telling us. I’ve no idea what it is, but her skin there has practically healed.”
Lorcan crossed the room in three long strides. He grabbed Arta’s arm himself – a little too roughly for Lincoln’s liking – and his finger reached down and stroked the inside of her elbow. The skin was pale, but healthy. No breaks. No peeling. No bleeding. No blisters.
His voice had a tone of wonder. “What is this? What is it?” He tugged at the edge of one of Arta’s bandages further up her arm, trying to see the skin hidden underneath.
Lincoln elbowed him out of the way. “Stop it,” he said sharply.
Arta’s gaze flicked from one to the other. She peeled back the rest of the bandages on her own.
She gave a hopeful, tentative smile. “It’s the ointment. The one Lincoln gave me.” She nodded at her brother. “The one you brought back from Piloria. I’ve only been putting on a tiny smear each day, but my arm feels so much better. I can bend it now without it hurting.” She bent her elbow up and down. “I gave Tarin some to try on her sore hands. But there isn’t much left.”
But Lorcan was too excited to stop. “But this – it’s working. What is it? From Piloria? We need some more. You only gave Tarin enough for her fingers. What kind of a person does that? She needs more. Have you seen how sick she is? You need to give me more. You need to share what you have.”
He was babbling, carried away by the idea of a cure. His eyes were bright.
But the smile had dropped from Arta’s face.
“I can’t,” Lincoln said bluntly.
He was still trying to work out how he could have been so stupid. How he could have missed the most important thing in the world. He’d been worried about dinosaurs, eggs and staying alive the whole time he’d been in Piloria. But the thing he’d wanted most had been right there the whole time.
The air rushed out of his lungs as Lorcan slammed him against the wall. Instinctively Lincoln raised his fists. He was strong. He was more than able to protect himself, but did he really want to do this? Particularly in front of his sister?
“What do you mean, you can’t?” roared Lorcan.
Tarin let out a whimper. But Lorcan didn’t seem to hear. He was busy directing his anger and frustration at Lincoln.
“Did you see? Did you see what just happened to my daughter? Wait a minute.” Something seemed to register in his brain as he glanced up and down at the guy clutched in his fists. “I know you. I know you. You work in my lab. You’re one of mine. You work in my lab and you won’t give it to me?” He sounded incredulous.
Lincoln felt the rage burn inside him. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t you think if I had any more I would have given it to my sister? Why do you think it’s just one tiny part of her that’s healed? Don’t you think if I’d realized it could really help I would have given it to her sooner? Brought it to you, to see if you could actually replicate it?” He pushed Lorcan back. Thoughts were rushing through his head. He felt like a failure. He’d left that ointment lying forgotten at the bottom of a bag for a few weeks after his return. When time was something Arta couldn’t afford.
And now Arta had given away something that could potentially save her.
More than anything, Lincoln hated the way that made him feel.
But Lorcan didn’t retaliate. No, he seemed to have only one thing on his mind. He scrambled over to Arta’s storage box and started yanking all her things out, scattering them across the floor. Care centre gowns, tunics and undergarments spilled across the floor, followed by bandages that bounced in every direction.
“Stop it,” Arta whimpered. “Stop it.”
Lincoln stood rooted to the spot. He knew exactly what Lorcan was looking for. He just didn’t know if there was anything left to find.
As one of the gowns floated across the floor, a scrap of material landed on the ground. The tiny remnants of the leaf and ointment were mushed against the cloth. Within a few seconds the smell was unmistakeable.
Lorcan pounced. “Is this it?” His nose wrinkled at the smell, then his face started to fall as he realized how little ointment there actually was.
“There must be more,” he said frantically, searching among the rest of Arta’s things. A tiny clotted bit of ointment broke away and landed on the floor. Lorcan muttered as he stared at the fallen fragments. He dropped to his knees and tried to scoop them up. But the smear on the fabric was the only real part of the ointment that was left. Lincoln could hardly breathe.
What happened now? What about Arta? Without the ointment would even her small healed patch of skin just deteriorate again, and the disease progress?
Lorcan held up the tiny hard remnants in the palm of his hand. He turned to Lincoln. “This…this is it? This is all there is?”
Lincoln nodded.
Lorcan was shaking. Lincoln could practically hear his brain whizzing around, processing all his thoughts and deciding what to do next. After a few seconds Lorcan took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, then he stepped forward, lowering his voice so only Lincoln could hear. “Finally. Something that might actually work. But let’s keep this between us. If the Stipulators know you might have a possible cure for the blistering plague they’ll do anything to keep you quiet. Me? I’ve already annoyed them, but they still need me to kill the dinosaurs. They can’t do that alone.”
Lincoln’s heart was still thudding in his chest. What was in Lorcan’s hand was all that was left of the miracle ointment. The tiniest remnant of something that might actually help. “We don’t have any of the right plants. And I’ve never seen them growing on Earthasia. They were dark green – with a really distinctive smell.” Lincoln let out a painful sigh and shook his head. “If only I’d known. If only I’d thought, I could have tried to bring some back from Piloria.” The orange fruit sparked in his brain again. “Maybe we could grow them here?”
But Lorcan was studying the sample in his hand. “Let’s see. I need to look at this in the lab. We might not need to grow the plants. I might be able to replicate this artificially.”
For the first time since he’d come home, Lincoln’s heart gave a leap. Finally, a chance to do something that might help his sister.
He hoped that Lorcan was right about making the ointment without the evergreen plants. Because unless some secret garden had a stock of them, there was only one place to get them. Only one place that could hold a potential cure for the blistering plague.
Piloria.
She was trying not to show any excitement. But every time Octavius left the room she was left surrounded by the old books. Right now she’d do anything for a bit of distraction. Anything to stop herself thinking about Reban Don, or Lincoln Kreft. The anger she felt for both of them continued to simmer just beneath the surface. Even Octavius was starting to frustrate her now. He still hadn’t even told her why she was really there.
Focusing on the books gave her something else to think about. It was like a whole new world. School had never interested Storm. Never engaged her mind. But all these books?
Since she’d got back to Earthasia things had seemed even blander than before. The whole place felt grey. Nothing like the bright lushness of Piloria.
She ran her hand over the cover of a thick book, wishing for just a second that it could transport her back there.
Maybe these books would tell her more about Piloria than she’d discovered in her time there. Okay, the dinosaur one wasn’t entirely accurate, but at least it would feed her need for more knowledge about the dinosaur continent – and that in turn, would feed her soul.
She’d spent the last few nights at the side of the loch watching for Milo. But he was nowhere to be seen. She’d never gone this long without seeing the plesiosaur, not since he’d saved her life. Maybe it was be
cause she wasn’t swimming in the loch so much. Before, she’d never worried about the deep expanse of water. The loch was relatively clear – one of the Trials had even been in the loch.
For a second, the lake on Piloria flashed in front of her eyes, along with the vision of the deinosuchus with its wide jaws and endless teeth.
The downside of Piloria. In amongst the wonder of the landscape, there were still the terrifying dinosaurs. Her stomach gave a flip.
If only she could experience the beauty of Piloria without the near-constant fear of dying. If only she could think about the place without remembering the deaths of her friends.
A horrible prickle went down her spine. Was she actually wishing the dangerous dinosaurs dead? Was her mind adjusting to the way that the Stipulators thought?
This time the shudder didn’t just go down her spine, it vibrated through her whole body. Was working in parliament somehow affecting how she thought?
She couldn’t even bear to imagine that. Right now, these books were the best distraction she could have. There was a whole world of information here which she had never been exposed to before. Maybe, if she looked hard enough, she would find something that could help her. Maybe even information that could help her to stop the viruses the scientists were creating to destroy the dinosaurs.
She rested her hand against the shelf. Wood. Even the feel of it was special. It had a smell. Even though the wood had been worked to be straight and flat she could still feel the grain and tiny notches under the palm of her hand. The boat on Piloria had been much rougher, with splinters everywhere to catch her skin. But the smell was the same. She closed her eyes for a second.
Octavius’s voice sounded in a curious tone behind her. “What do we have here?”
She jumped and pulled her hand back. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“Obviously,” he said, nodding. Then he waited. He had a pile of papers under his arm and she held out her hands to take them but he shook his head and nodded back to the shelves. “What were you doing?”
She hesitated, trying to think of a suitable lie. But it was hard to formulate one in her head while Octavius was staring at her with those all-knowing eyes of his.
She sighed. “The wood. I like it. I like the feel of it. The smell of it. I can’t believe we used to have trees everywhere and now we have virtually none. It just seems such…such a shame.” She held up her hands.
Octavius nodded. “You must have seen trees as a child.”
“Trees, yes. I just didn’t realize you could actually make things from wood.”
“Like shelves?”
“And boats.” The word came out before she realized.
Octavius’s gaze narrowed. “Now where would someone like you see a boat made of wood, I wonder?”
She gulped. Back on Piloria, Blaine had crafted a boat out of a tree trunk that they’d used to cross the loch. She hadn’t told anyone they’d met Blaine. They’d all agreed it was safest not to. “Maybe someone told me about it once.”
He gave a perfunctory nod. She had the oddest sensation that he knew so much more than he was admitting to.
Octavius thrust the pile of papers towards her. “Put these somewhere.” He walked away with a wave of his hand. “Anywhere will do.”
He climbed back up to his desk. “We have other work to do.” He raised his eyebrows. “Now I know you a little better…” His lips curved into a smile. “Now I’ve seen your curiosity and your tenacity, it’s time you found out what you’re really here for.”
Lorcan was a man with a mission.
Once again he had gathered the lab staff together and instructed them that there had been a change of plan. Now, they were to spend their time analysing the sample for medicinal purposes. Lorcan wanted to know if they could replicate what was in the leaf – but hadn’t given the lab staff any indication of what the sample actually was.
It sounded like a reasonable plan. Except, this wasn’t a lab-made substance. This was a plant. Something that could be grown.
The guy working next to Lincoln looked up and murmured, “What happens next week? First it was dinosaur DNA, then it was human DNA and the search for the blistering plague, now it’s try to replicate some green smush. Can’t the guy make up his mind?”
Lincoln kept his mouth shut. He had a mountain of tasks to do. Lorcan had questioned him to death about the ointment. What was the name of the plant? What did the leaves look like? How was it made? How quickly did it work? Trouble was – he couldn’t remember that much about it. The only question he could answer truthfully was how quickly the ointment worked, and that only seemed to build on Lorcan’s frustration.
Eventually he’d been dismissed, with the instruction to stay close and keep his mouth shut if anyone asked any questions.
A flicker of a black cloak caught his eye. He immediately turned away, not wanting to have to deal with Reban Don again. But this time it wasn’t Reban Don. It was another Stipulator. One he’d never seen before. He had white-blond hair – a bit like the Nordens’ – and pale blue eyes.
Lincoln frowned. Why would another Stipulator be here? It was easy to become invisible in a lab as busy as this one, with everyone dressed the same. He found a tiny space at the bench nearest where the Stipulator had stopped.
The Stipulator was talking in a low voice to a lab worker. “So this is it? This is what you wanted me to see?” The older man nodded. The Stipulator frowned. “Okay, explain again. What is it exactly?”
The lab worker pointed to the sequences and charts. “This is what we’ve discovered about human DNA. We can see which conditions are inherited from parents. We can map which traits – eye colour, hand use, heart problems, for example – come from which side of the family.”
A strange look passed across the Stipulator’s face. “But how do you know the DNA is correct?”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you know you have the right samples? How do you know these people are actually the parents of that child?”
The lab worker waved his hand. “Oh, that’s the easy part. We can show how the strands match. It’s the first step. We always check in case there’s been a mix-up with the samples.”
The Stipulator’s gaze narrowed. “So if I gave you a sample of DNA from a child, you would be able to match it to the DNA of a parent?”
“Of course!” The lab worker started to babble, going into a huge amount of detail about the technicalities of DNA. Lincoln could see the Stipulator’s eyes glaze over. The truth was he’d been lost himself after the second sentence.
The Stipulator tried to keep his frustration in check. “And human DNA, how do you get a sample? Where does the DNA come from?”
The lab worker blinked. “Body fluids. Blood, saliva. And other places, hair, flakes of skin, nails. We’ve been using flakes of skin to get the DNA for the people with the blistering plague.”
The Stipulator was completely focused now. “So if I brought you some samples from two people and you analysed them, you could give me absolute, definite proof that one person was the parent of the other?” He seemed to be getting more animated by the second.
The lab worker started to look a little wary. “Well, yes. Of course. But why on earth would we want to do that? We’re not working on the blistering plague any more. We’ve been told to focus on the new samples, that strange substance.”
Lincoln cringed at the lab worker’s words, hoping the Stipulator wouldn’t question what “strange substance” they were working on.
But the Stipulator seemed not to hear him. He bent forward and kept his voice low. “You’ll do exactly what I want you to do.” He glanced around the room. “How long have you worked in this lab?”
The man looked worried now. “About fifteen years.”
The Stipulator nodded. “Then maybe it’s time for a promotion. Somewhere better to stay. Some more rations. You give me what I want and I can make life very comfortable for you.”
It was a threa
t and a promise all in one.
Lincoln saw the lab worker gulp and struggle to find words. Of course he would want extra food. Everyone did.
But in the end he didn’t even get a chance to say yes or no. The Stipulator just gave a brief nod of his head as he closed his hand around the man’s trembling fist on the bench and tightened his grip. Lincoln winced. He was sure he heard a crack.
“I’ll be back in a few days with the samples. How long will it take for you to give me the proof?”
The man could hardly speak. He was obviously in pain from the Stipulator’s grip on his hand. “About five…days.”
A broad smile stretched across the Stipulator’s face. “Perfect.”
She’d spent three days drawing maps. Detailed maps. Wracking every single part of her brain to try to remember things she hadn’t consciously paid attention to. Her hand ached from constantly holding the graphite.
It appeared she had her purpose. The books she’d admired? Octavius wanted information from Piloria to update them all. He wanted to know about foods. Dinosaurs. He wanted to know if the creatures had revealed any vulnerabilities. He asked unending questions about how much she’d watched them. How they fed, what they ate, their nesting sites.
It seemed that Octavius had spent the first week getting to know her – before deciding if he could trust her and the information she could provide for his precious books.
“Tell me about the deinosuchus again.”
Storm closed her eyes for a few seconds. Thinking about the deinosuchus meant thinking about Rune and Kronar. Two friends gone.
Some parts of Piloria were best forgotten.
She sighed. “What do you want to know?”
Octavius pointed to the map, gesturing towards the lake. “So it lives here, you say?”
She nodded. “Apparently, yes.”
“Colour?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Green, grey, sludgy. The colour is hard to describe, it was only out of the water for a second and I was mainly running in the other direction.” She took a deep breath. “It had lumpy skin. Like scales. I remember that. And its mouth…” She shuddered. “It had a long jaw, with rows and rows of teeth. It was so powerful.”
