Song of the Ovulum

by Bryan Davis

  “Because Second Eden would lose?”

  “Because innocent people would die.”

  “Oh.” A flash of heat warmed Matt’s cheeks. Too many stupid remarks would quickly make him look like a fool in the eyes of his potential new father. “Right. That makes sense.”

  Mr. Bannister let out a sigh. “I can endure the weakness and physical pain without too much of a problem. The hardest part is not knowing how my wife is doing. Sometimes I have nightmares that she’s suffering worse than I am, and the mental anguish is almost more than I can stand.”

  “Yeah. I suppose it is.” Matt nodded to himself. Mr. Bannister’s story rang true. He wasn’t an enemy at all. He was a loving husband and father who was a victim of vicious inter-world politics. “You can stop worrying about her.”

  “What?” Mr. Bannister’s voice sharpened, and his chains rattled. “What do you know? Tell me!”

  “Bonnie Bannister. Your wife. She’s safe. I rescued her from this prison. At least I’m pretty sure I did. I saw her fly away, and she was long gone before they shot me.”

  “You rescued her?”

  “Yeah. A guy named Walter found me and—”

  “Walter Foley?”

  “Right. He found out that I have an ability to know when danger is near, so he thinks I’m an anthrozil like you.”

  A short pause ensued. Matt again tried unsuccessfully to loosen his wrists.

  “And you said you’re sixteen years old.”

  “Yeah.” Matt intentionally lowered his voice. Mr. Bannister, even in his weakened state, was about to put it all together. Shouts of “Son! I’ve missed you so much! Thank you for rescuing your mother!” or other equally awkward comments were sure to come.

  Again, silence ruled the jail cell. The room seemed darker than ever, and the pain in Matt’s wrists and ankles spiked.

  After a few seconds, Mr. Bannister spoke up. “I assume the candlestone is weakening you, then.”

  Matt breathed a silent sigh. Mr. Bannister was being cool. That was good. “Actually, it doesn’t bother me. Walter showed one to me and said it told him about a dragon trait I supposedly have. He promised to tell me, but I didn’t get to see him again.”

  “Healing,” Mr. Bannister said. “The candlestone doesn’t hurt you because you’re constantly healing yourself, and you can heal others, too.”

  Matt probed for pain in his gunshot wound. It had diminished greatly. “I already knew I healed fast. People think I’m weird.” He bent his knees and drew his legs closer. “I suppose I am.”

  “It’s better not to think of your gifts as weird, Son. Think of them as blessings. I’m sure Walter sent you because of your abilities, and if not for them, you probably wouldn’t have succeeded.”

  Matt offered another likely unseen nod. In a way, Mr. Bannister was right. The danger-sensing helped a lot. Yet, could getting shot and then trapped in a prison cell be called successful? Still, something felt oddly comforting. Maybe it was the knowledge that he had rescued two people and set them free from bondage. Maybe that and hearing Mr. Bannister’s calm words of consolation, especially Son.

  For the next several minutes, Matt related the rest of the prison-break tale, including meeting Lauren and finding Mrs. Bannister in the Healers’ Room. That upset Mr. Bannister quite a bit, because it meant Mrs. Bannister had been subjected to intrusive experiments, something she would find particularly torturous.

  “Well, she’s safe now, Mr. Bannister, so …” He let his sentence die. The formality sounded awkward. “I guess we both know you’re my father, so what should I … you know … call you?”

  “What would you be comfortable with?”

  Matt mouthed the word Dad, letting it out in the barest whisper. It sounded all right. He could get used to it. “Is Dad okay?”

  “I would consider it …” A tremor sneaked into his voice. “An honor.”

  Matt let himself smile. This man, his father, was no drill sergeant and no smarmy mama’s boy. “Okay … Dad. What are we going to do to get out of here?” He winced. Dad still didn’t sound natural. Maybe he could say it for his father’s sake but mentally call him Billy, at least for a while.

  “Are the knots pretty tight?”

  “Yeah. They’re cutting off my circulation.”

  “You have teeth. You could eventually gnaw your way out. Then you can get that cursed candlestone and hide it somewhere.”

  “The guards must have known about that possibility,” Matt said. “Why would they put me in here with you?”

  “They probably assume you’re weakened by it, too. And they have another candlestone. They never come in here without flashing it at me.”

  “Another one? Not exactly a rare gem, I guess.”

  “There were a bunch of them in a river in Second Eden. Elam closed down tourist diving, but probably not before some collectors picked up a few.”

  “Pretty bad oversight for a king.”

  Billy laughed. “I’m glad you’re not afraid to tell it like it is. We’ll get along fine.”

  “Seriously, didn’t he consider that someone might steal them?”

  “I was the one who found them in the first place. To this day I don’t remember if I told him. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s probably mine.”

  “Well, I guess I’d better start working on these knots.” Matt tried to pull his wrists apart, but the rope held him fast. He lifted his hands toward his mouth, and as he pictured himself biting into the knots, a memory flashed into his mind. The tooth transmitter!

  Pushing his tongue back to his molars, he felt for its presence. Yes, it was still there. But could Walter hear him? The transmission might be poor between this cell and wherever Walter was now. And who could tell what condition he might be in?”

  “Dad? Do you think it’s safe to raise my voice? Walter had me put a tooth transmitter in my mouth, so maybe—”

  “Yes! Go for it! We’re in a bunker, and it’s almost soundproof. The guards hardly ever come by at night.”

  “Here goes.” Matt took in a deep breath and shouted, “Walter! It’s Matt! Can you hear me?”

  IN DISGUISE

  Lauren woke with a start. Someone shouted. It was too real to be a dream. A sweeping searchlight flashed by, illuminating the rooftop shed. As it retreated, the room dimmed but not enough to leave them in darkness.

  She gave Bonnie a gentle nudge, whispering, “Did you hear a shout?”

  “Huh? What?” Bonnie leaned forward, yawning. “A shout? No, I don’t think so.”

  Lauren’s tooth buzzed. “Lauren?” a male voice said. “Is that you?”

  Bonnie angled her head. “I heard that.”

  “It’s Matt!” Lauren massaged her jaw, once again lifting her handcuffs and making the loose one jingle. “Where are you?”

  “I’m in a prison cell,” Matt said. “Where are you?”

  “I’d better not say. Someone might be picking up the transmissions.”

  Bonnie clasped her hands, biting a thumb. Lauren smiled at her. She seemed ready to jump out of her skin as she waited for the right time to talk to her son.

  “That’s cool,” Matt said, “but if the guards are listening, they’ll probably barge in here. We’ll know pretty soon.”

  Bonnie touched her jaw. “Larry, can you hear me?”

  “Quite well.” Larry’s smooth, casual voice came through loud and clear. “I assume you are at a high elevation.”

  “I’m not saying, at least not yet. I’ve been out of the loop for a long time, so I need some information. Are you still using a secure frequency for the tooth transmitters?”

  “It is an obscure channel, and I can assure you that even if someone were to tune in to your frequency, he would not be able to understand the communication. The transmitter digitizes your voice, scrambles it with a unique algorithm, and the receiving side decodes it. All should be quite secure.”

  “Great, Larry. Thanks. Keep
listening in.”

  “I will for a short time. It will be Lois’s turn in exactly two minutes.”

  “That’s fine.” Bonnie nodded at Lauren. “Sounds like it’s secure. Go ahead.”

  Lauren pushed one of her ears closed, hoping to aid her hearing. “Matt, I’m on the roof of the research wing. Bonnie flew me here. We’re going to try to find you and get you out.”

  “So Mrs. Bannister is with you right now?” Matt asked.

  “Yes.” Lauren scooted hip to hip with Bonnie. “We couldn’t get much closer together.”

  “Right, Dad. She’s with Lauren.”

  “Dad?” Lauren looked at Bonnie. “Matt, what are you talking about?”

  “I’m with Billy Bannister. He’s my father.”

  Bonnie laid a hand on her chest. “My … my husband is here?”

  “Alive and well. … Not perfect, but he’s still got a fire in his belly. … Wait a minute. No. He says he doesn’t have a fire in his belly, but he said his heart is on fire for Bonnie Bannister.”

  New tears trickled down Bonnie’s cheeks. “Oh, my dear Billy! Please tell him I love him, and we’ll get you both out as soon as we can!”

  “She says she loves you,” Matt said, “and she and Lauren will get you out as soon as they can.”

  “Matt …” Bonnie wiped the tears, but two more quickly replaced them. Her smile was so broad, a dimple appeared on each cheek. “Thank you for rescuing me. I’m so proud that you’re my son.”

  “Sure … uh … Mom. … Is it okay if I call you that?”

  “Okay? Okay? Of course it’s okay!” Bonnie buried her face in her hands. “Oh, dear God in Heaven! You are eternally gracious and faithful! Thank you, O my Father, for watching over my husband and son all these years! And now you have brought my son back as my rescuer! Praise your holy name!”

  After a brief silence, Matt continued. “That’s all very cool, Mom, but now Dad and I are on the receiving end of the rescue business, so I guess we’d better come up with a plan.”

  “Yes, yes. That’s right. Of course.”

  Lauren looked up at the door’s glass panel. Snow blew in through the broken pane, and a curtain of flakes descended outside, lit up from time to time by searchlights. “Blizzard’s hitting hard,” she said. “But the power’s still on.”

  Bonnie lifted the cell phone and read the display. “It’s five before three a.m. This is a good time to try to sneak into the building. Do you have any idea how to guide us to your cell?”

  Matt relayed the question and after a few uh-huh’s, he replied. “Dad says he gets to go to a big shower room twice a week, so big it looks like it was designed to hose off a dragon. That room is three doors down a cavernous hallway. There aren’t any windows anywhere, so we’re probably below ground level. If you have a diagram of the facility, you can look for a lower corridor that has plumbing in a big room.”

  “Larry?” Bonnie said. “Did you get that?”

  “This is Lois,” a female purred. “I will examine the schematic. One moment, please.”

  Lauren looked at the bare bulb hanging on the wall. It flickered, then dimmed before returning to its normal brightness. Could that be a sign of stress on the power grid, or maybe snow and ice on the lines?

  “I have located two possibilities with equal potential,” Lois said, “and based on recent GPS data from your transmitters, I have also located your current position on the rooftop. Since the weather report for that facility shows heavy snowfall, I assume you are inside the roof-access shelter.”

  Bonnie nodded. “Yes. That’s perfect, Lois. Good job.”

  “I can guide you to one of the two locations. I assume the closer one would be preferable.”

  “Is it in the maximum security area?” Lauren asked.

  “Both are in maximum security. The minimum security area has no underground cells.”

  Bonnie raised a finger. “Lois, do you have an electrical schematic?”

  “I have electrical drawings, as well as all communication wiring for cable, satellite, and computer networks.”

  “Perfect. Is there a way for us to get to a circuit box and shut down the power here?”

  “Affirmative. My programming instructs me to warn you of the high security risk. Since I have no information about guard patrols, I cannot judge where they will be at any given moment. I do know, however, that there is a break room near the circuit box access door, so your danger level could be beyond acceptable limits.”

  “At this point,” Bonnie said, “there is no risk too high. We’ll be better off in the dark, so lead us to the circuit box first.”

  “Very well.” Lois’s cadence altered to the rote monotone of a tour guide. “Descend the stairway to its lowest landing. Be advised that you will pass two other landings with access to corridors, so your descent might be noticed. At the lowest landing, the corridor to the right leads to a break room and a maintenance access room, both on the left side of the corridor. It is possible that guards will congregate at the break room, but it is highly unlikely that anyone will be in the maintenance room. This is where you will find air-conditioning and heating ducts, as well as the circuit breakers. When you arrive at the bottom of the stairwell, let me know, and I will provide further directions.”

  Bonnie unwrapped Lauren and drew her wings in tightly. “Your backpack, please.”

  Lauren picked it up. The pain returned, this time radiating up her arm and into her shoulder. She tried to ignore it, but a sudden throb made her wince.

  “Is something wrong?” Bonnie asked as she withdrew the pocketknife from her jacket.

  “I think the flying bruised my ribs. I’m getting stabbing pains.”

  “Sorry. The wind made me squeeze you pretty hard.” When Bonnie took the backpack, her brow wrinkled. “Now I’m feeling a stab.”

  “Well, your arms are probably tired from—”

  “That’s not it.” Bonnie unzipped one of the backpack’s outer pockets and looked inside. “No wonder!”

  Lauren peered in. Underneath snuffbox-sized tins, a glimmering gem sat at the bottom of the pocket. “What is it?”

  “A candlestone. It’s like Kryptonite to dragonkind.”

  As Lauren studied the sparkling facets, the stabs in her ribs returned. Of course her own pain resulted from internal bruises, not from the candlestone, but why would they flare up now? Might she be an anthrozil after all?

  She mentally shook her head. It would be stupid to get caught up in all this dragon talk. Her birth parents were normal humans. Her memories couldn’t be a lie. Besides, her strange gifts weren’t draconic, nothing like wings, fire breathing, or danger-sensing. Maybe the candlestone affected other kinds of people. “I guess we’d better throw it outside.”

  Her eyes narrowing, Bonnie zipped up the pocket. “I might be able to use it.”

  “How?”

  “I’m still working on a plan.”

  “But if it causes you pain, and it stays in the backpack, it’ll—”

  “Hurt. I know. But I’ll do anything … anything … to rescue my husband and son.” Bonnie used the knife to slice two gashes in the backpack. “Can you help me get it on? It’s faster that way.”

  “Sure.” Lauren helped Bonnie push her wings into the holes. With the agility of arms and hands, her wings grasped the backpack from the inside and pushed themselves into place. Finally, after a great deal of shifting around, the backpack bulged as if ready to explode, but it hid the wings beautifully.

  Bonnie winced. “It’s been quite a few years since I’ve done this, and my backpack then was bigger.”

  “With all the moving around, it looks like you have ten squirming puppies in there.”

  “I keep shifting them to get comfortable. They’ll be still in a minute.” Bonnie extended the knife to Lauren. “Now cut my hair. This is sharp enough.”

  Lauren lifted the knife from Bonnie’s palm. “Why?”

  “I�
��m pretty well known around here. I need to alter my appearance as much as possible.” Bonnie withdrew a cap and a name tag from her jacket pocket. “And I found these.”

  “Right. I noticed the cap earlier. But a cap and a haircut aren’t going to hide you very well.”

  Bonnie fastened the name tag to the jacket. “Did you see those tins in the backpack? I think they were some kind of makeup Walter used on his face.”

  “I saw them. What are you thinking? Are you going to change to another race?”

  “Just a birthmark on my cheek. That should be distracting enough.”

  After taking off her gloves and laying them on the floor, Lauren unzipped the backpack pocket and rummaged for brown makeup. As she jostled the tins, her fingers touched the candlestone, the contact stinging her as if she had brushed across a prickly nettle. Nausea churned as well, a slow, simmering boil. Finally, she pulled out a tin and popped open the lid. “I’ll do the makeup job, but I think you should just push your hair under the cap. That should be good enough.”

  “I’ll let you be the judge.” Bonnie slid the cap over her head and pushed her hair up inside. After taking a few seconds to adjust it, she touched the brim of the cap. “How do I look?”

  Lauren eyed her closely. “It’s kind of lumpy. Let me fix it after I paint on your birthmark.”

  For the next few minutes, Lauren worked on Bonnie’s left cheek, creating a thumb-sized splotch of dark brown. She used a bit of black makeup from a different tin to create tiny lines that looked like dark fuzz. When she finished adjusting Bonnie’s hair, Lauren studied her new look. Her hair still protruded a bit at the back of the too-large cap, but the smudge on her cheek looked natural. “The mark definitely draws attention away from your eyes, and your grimace makes you look kind of mean. If I didn’t know it was you, I’d be fooled.”

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Bonnie slid the knife back into her pocket, straightened the cap, and shone the flashlight down the stairway. “Follow me.”

  As they descended, a light from below grew brighter. Bonnie flicked the flashlight off and slowed her pace while letting out a low Shhh. A door with a glass panel came into view. On the opposite side, flickering lights illuminated gray floor tiles, but nothing moved, not even a shadow.