by G. R. Lyons
She blushed under his scrutiny, but managed to keep her eyes on his while he studied her face, relieved to see that the resemblance that had startled him that morning wasn't quite as stark as he'd first thought. Remarkably close, but not exact.
“Thank you for this,” he said, gesturing at the bowl and offering her a smile.
Zhadeyn blushed and glanced away, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth as she nodded to him and hurried away. Graeden watched her go, feeling an odd urge to follow her.
Easy, Grae, he told himself. The last thing you need right now is another complication in your life.
Graeden took up the warm bowl and spooned up a bite of the stew, ready to force his way through it, and found himself groaning with pleasure as the flavor hit his tongue. He quickly took another bite, and then another, and had to force himself to slow down and savor it, so wholly relieved to have something satisfying and not just filling.
He finished the bowl and glanced toward the door where Zhadeyn had disappeared, knowing that his resolve was very much in danger of wavering.
* * *
GRAEDEN STRETCHED out on one of the hospital beds, getting up to check his patient periodically throughout the night any time he woke from being uncomfortable on the narrow bed. In the morning, he managed to meditate his way back to sleep so that he missed the assault of prayer hour, and when he woke again he saw Zhadeyn creep silently into the room, gather up his dishes from the night before, and leave a fresh plate on the counter for him, stealing away in an attempt not to disturb him.
He watched her go through slitted eyes, feeling an odd sense of contentment that he'd never before experienced with any of the women in his life.
Graeden savored the breakfast she'd brought him, then splashed water on his hands and face to revive himself as the doctors and nurses began to arrive for the day.
Dr. Keisen gave him a friendly smile as he walked in with two nurses in his shadow, and a few minutes later, Graeden saw Quinn enter the room, looking clearly upset.
“Morning,” Graeden said.
“Yeah…” Quinn muttered, nodding over his shoulder.
Graeden looked up and saw Jase and Leni shuffle into the room, expressions of shock on both their faces.
“Morning?” Graeden asked, looking at them as they all came to a stop, glancing around like they weren't quite sure where they were. “Everything alright?”
Jase shivered. “Don't touch the women.”
“What?” Graeden asked with a laugh, not certain he'd heard Jase correctly.
“Just…don't,” Leni added, shaking his head as he turned to the counter and blankly stared at a file lying there.
“Why? What happened?”
“Shhh,” Jase hissed as Zevic entered the room. “We'll tell you later.” Jase cleared his throat and forced a blank expression onto his face as he nodded toward the overnight patient. “How is he?”
Graeden sighed. “Not good. He kept getting worse throughout the night. I've done what I can to make him comfortable, but…”
He looked up and saw Jase frown in disappointment, while Dr. Keisen looked barely concerned.
“How long would you say he has?” Zevic asked, nosing into the conversation.
Graeden paused before answering, stopping himself before he could mouth off to the bureaucrat, and said, “Days? Maybe hours? It's hard to tell at this point.”
Zevic nodded, looking down his nose at the suffering patient, and said, “Call for a cart. We'll have him taken up to the Pit now.”
“But Zevic, he's not dead yet,” Dr. Keisen complained while Graeden asked, “What's the pit?”
“It's a…burial ground,” Dr. Keisen answered distractedly while he looked to Zevic for a response to his question. “Zevic?”
“Just do it,” Zevic answered, turning for the door.
“But that's not policy!” Dr. Keisen called after him.
Zevic stopped at the door, turned back, and strode toward them, holding his nose up in the air. “Title seven, section twelve, paragraph eight: 'All persons declared to be approaching an imminent death, whether from sickness or injury, may be deposited in the Pit so that they might end their lives out of sight of those whom they leave behind.' Dr. Graeden has declared there is nothing more to be done for the man, so he's no longer a useful member of society, therefore the Pit is where he'll go.”
“But Zevic!” Dr. Keisen called as the bureaucrat strode out of the room, completely ignoring them. “Seven hells.”
Graeden and the others were silent while Dr. Keisen sent for a cart, and stood around with nothing to do but keep the patient as comfortable as possible until the carter arrived. Graeden and Jase helped Dr. Keisen carry the man outside, keeping their mouths shut as they saw other patients and nurses deliberately turn their eyes away.
The carter held his donkey still while the patient was carefully laid upon the cart, the man waking enough to wince and cry against the sunlight beating down upon his sensitive skin. Graeden, Jase, and Keisen stood back, watching as the carter got the donkey in motion and slowly walked away, looking entirely unfazed by his errand.
“Where exactly are they going?” Graeden asked in a whisper. “What will happen to him?”
Dr. Keisen glanced around self-consciously and said, “I can't answer that. Someone might hear.”
Before Graeden could ask another question, Dr. Keisen turned and hurried back inside.
“Hauling a man off to bury him alive,” Graeden spat, shaking his head. “Parading him through town while he's suffering. Have these people no respect for the dignity of human life?”
Jase was silent for so long that Graeden finally looked over at his friend, seeing him stare at the corner where the cart had turned and disappeared from sight.
“You have no idea,” Jase murmured.
Chapter 12
WHEN THEIR break came in the middle of the day, Graeden and his fellows found a quiet, secluded corner to enjoy their lunch and hold a whispered conversation.
“So what happened?” Graeden asked.
Jase and Leni shared a look, while Quinn merely picked at his meal in silence. After a moment, Jase took a deep breath and glanced over at Graeden.
“He killed the women,” Jase began.
Graeden blinked at him. “What? Who?”
“Zevic brought us women last night,” Jase explained, “except…they were more like girls. I doubt any one of them was much over sixteen, if that. Beautiful, clean, and barren, just like he said…except I suspect he lied about the latter.”
“And?” Graeden prompted when Jase fell silent.
“So we picked the ones we wanted,” Leni said, “and Zevic took the rest away. They seemed ready and willing.” He looked to Jase, who nodded agreement.
“But they were completely unprepared,” Jase said. “Had absolutely no concept of what sex was about.”
“They readily did whatever we wanted,” Leni added, “but made no effort to participate.”
“It's like they were told to just be submissive, but without being told exactly what was going to happen.”
“Or maybe they were told but they just had no concept of actually engaging themselves beyond simply doing what they were told.”
Graeden looked back and forth between the two as they spoke, and glanced over at Quinn, who kept his eyes on his food as the conversation went on.
“And?” Graeden asked after a long silence.
Jase and Leni shared another look, and Jase took another deep breath before he said, “Overall, that was fine, in its way. Just like an inexperienced whore, or a shy virgin. Gods know we've all had those.” The others nodded agreement. “But I wake up this morning, and the girl is resting her hand on her belly, a searching look on her face, and suddenly she looks satisfied. I swear to the gods, Grae, it was like she was pregnant and she somehow already knew it.”
“Same here,” Leni added.
“But then Zevic showed up after breakfast to bring us back to the hospit
al, and asked if the girls pleased us. Asked us if we wanted them again.”
“We said no,” Leni continued, “as politely as we could. I mean, it was nice and all, but having a woman just lie there…It was just…”
Jase nodded and went on: “So Zevic asks us again, asks if we're sure, and we tell him thanks but no thanks, and he hauls the girls outside and pulls out a knife.”
Graeden straightened up, looking from Jase to Leni and back, seeing the stunned expressions on their faces.
“Just slit their throats,” Leni murmured, “right there in the street. And he turns to us with a shrug and just walks away like nothing happened.”
Silence fell over the group while Graeden looked at his friends, blinking and speechless.
“He…He murdered them?” he finally asked. “For the gods' sakes, why?”
Jase shrugged. “Because we didn't want them again. I swear, Grae, he almost made it sound like we were supposed to keep the girls for life or something.”
Leni nodded rapidly. “Yeah. What was it he said? Asked if we wanted to mark them as ours, whatever the hells that means.”
“He killed them?” Graeden asked again, stunned, and saw all three of his friends nod in answer. “Just like that?”
Jase nodded again.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” Jase said, pushing aside his barely-touched meal. “Gods, these people are sick.”
“Ah, there you are.”
Graeden tensed, clenching his hands into fists at the sound of Zevic's voice. The others became suddenly intent upon their food while Graeden turned slightly and glanced up at the smiling bureaucrat. Zevic's hands were clean, but Graeden saw traces of blood staining the man's sleeves.
“I thought you'd like to know that several new patients have just arrived,” Zevic announced, “so you'll be quite busy after your break. And I've lined up a few new girls for tonight, to see if any of them please you better than–”
He cut off as Graeden launched from his seat and slammed the man back against the wall.
“Just so you can kill more of them?” he growled. “I think not. You can keep your women. We'll be having no part in murder.”
Graeden let him go and took a step back, disgusted by the sight of an unconcerned smile on the man's face.
“They were used goods,” Zevic said with a shrug. “Couldn't risk letting them live and be used by another man, just in case of disease. And since your friends here didn't want them again, well…”
“That's no excuse to kill them!” Graeden said. “They're human beings!”
Zevic shrugged again. “What good is a barren woman? Honestly! Useless trash.”
Graeden glanced over at his friends and back at Zevic, narrowing his eyes as he asked, “Just how do you know they were barren?”
“They were tested,” Zevic said, gesturing vaguely.
“Tested how?”
“I don't know. However it's done. That's not my department.”
“And if they weren't in fact barren? If they were pregnant when you killed them?”
A startled look crossed Zevic's eyes before the man got control of himself again.
“I was assured they were incapable of having children,” he insisted.
“Well, now we'll never know, will we?” Graeden said through clenched teeth, glaring at the man. He waited until Zevic flinched and turned away, unable to hold his gaze. Zevic opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and stormed away without a word.
“They don't like eye contact,” Graeden murmured to himself.
“What's that?” Jase asked.
Graeden turned and sat back down, noticing all their plates were still at least half-full, the unappetizing food mostly ignored.
“Have you noticed no one here looks you in the eye?” he asked. “And when they try to, as a display of authority, they can't hold it for long. Makes them uncomfortable.”
Quinn nodded. “Eye contact means having to acknowledge you as an individual. Clearly, they don't believe in individuals here.”
“Prisoners and slaves, the lot of them,” Jase added, shaking his head. He held out a hand toward Graeden and said, “Don't give me an I-told-you-so.”
Graeden offered him a sympathetic smile, and the group fell silent, idly pushing around the remains of their meals.
“One hundred forty-seven days left, and counting,” Leni muttered.
Quinn raised his glass. “May the gods help us get through them all.”
The others raised their glasses and tossed back a gulp of warm water, grimacing as it went down.
* * *
GRAEDEN GRITTED his teeth through the next several days, trying to avoid Zevic as much as possible, and trying to treat patients with what limited means they were allowed. The nurses assigned to help them spent more time being asked to stay out of the way than actually assisting, since there were never enough patients to justify their presence.
“Where we at, Len?” Jase asked under his breath as they arrived for work one morning.
“A hundred and thirty-nine days left,” Leni answered with a groan.
“Are we really going to count it down every day?” Quinn asked.
“Oh, hells yes,” Jase said, and Leni nodded agreement.
“Grae?” Quinn asked, clearly looking for support.
Graeden shook his head. “I'm for the countdown. Otherwise, it feels like we might be stuck here forever.”
“Yeah, well, you keep mouthing off to the weasel and we just might, Grae,” Jase muttered.
Graeden rolled his eyes and sighed. “Alright, alright.” Jase gave him a skeptical look, and Graeden asked, “What? I'll keep my mouth shut.” Jase's look turned somehow more skeptical, and Graeden put up his hands. “I promise. I'll try, alright?”
Jase chuckled to himself and shook his head, all of them falling silent as they walked into a thoroughly crowded room.
“Good gods,” Leni muttered. “At least today should go by fast.”
“Ah, you're here!” Zevic said with a smile, extricating himself from the midst of the room to greet them. Jase gave Graeden a pointed look, and Graeden rolled his eyes. “The Elders have agreed to let you help with other patients from now on. Too much of our workforce is ill or injured, so they've decided you can help them in order to get them back to work as soon as possible.”
Jase nudged Graeden with his elbow.
“Wonderful,” Graeden said through gritted teeth, trying to force on a polite smile.
“So, I'll let you get to it,” Zevic said, heading for the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah, like that'll happen,” Graeden muttered under his breath.
He turned to scan the room, seeing every bed occupied, while a few other patients waited in a group against one wall. Graeden went to the first bed while his fellows each picked another, and soon lost himself in his work, treating colds and cuts and broken bones as best he could within the limitations of the system. The day was over before he knew it, and the next day was the same: an endless stream of patients avoiding his eyes and meekly answering his questions as he prescribed medications, stitched up wounds, set bones, and drew blood.
Despite the frustrations of having to ask permission from hospital administration for every needle and bandage, let alone for allowances to perform certain procedures that patients desperately needed, Graeden found himself actually looking forward to work every morning.
Then Zhadeyn would walk into the room, and his busyness would cease to be a distraction from dwelling upon what waited for him when he got back home. He'd watch her cross the room, head down and always in a hurry, and had to actively work at getting his focus back, reminding himself that Zhadeyn was not her, and that he had patients who needed him.
On the rare occasion that Zhadeyn actually looked in his direction and offered him a shy smile, Graeden began to realize that it wasn't so much the resemblance that struck him.
It was her. Just her. And the gods only knew how
much he wanted her—some sick twist of fate making him painfully attracted to a woman who so closely resembled the nightmare he'd had before.
Graeden cursed himself, trying to stop that train of thought before it went too far. He couldn't afford to feel attraction for anyone. There was already enough drama in his life that he was trying to escape without adding to it by getting himself involved with another woman so soon. Not to mention, he was pretty sure dating simply wasn't done on Tanas.
Yet, he couldn't help but notice every time she entered the room.
“Where are we at, again?” Jase asked in a whisper, breaking through Graeden's thoughts.
“One hundred thirty-two,” Leni muttered from Graeden's other side.
“Right.” Jase took a deep breath. “Got it.”
Jase went back to his patient, trying to apply a bandage using cheap tape because the better quality tape was held in reserve for special cases, even though there was plenty on the shelf in the storage room. Leni returned to his patient to draw a vial of blood, and Graeden finished a note in his patient's file, just getting the hang of using pen and paper again, before grabbing anything he could get his hands on to make an effective brace for the man's broken ankle, having to improvise due to the nonexistence of cam boots and the legal ban against plaster.
“There,” he said, rechecking the brace and nodding with satisfaction at his work. “That ought to hold just fine. Make sure you don't get the bandages wet, and keep the leg elevated as much as possible.”
A nurse came over and helped the man out of bed, walking along beside him as he tried to get used to crutches on his way out of the room. Graeden made a few more notes in the man's file and set it aside for processing, watching as Zhadeyn hurried into the room, gathered up an armful of files, and disappeared again.
“Eyes to your work, Crawford,” Jase said as he rushed by.
“Who's Crawford?” Dr. Keisen asked, looking up from his patient.
“It's– Never mind,” Jase said, shaking his head. “Let me help you with that.”
