“I think my brain is feeling better now,” I announced, feeling things become clearer. I still couldn’t quite remember everything that had gone on as the serum entered my system, but I could remember sensations—a feeling of relaxation and sleepiness, which had pulled the blinds closed around my mind.
“Excellent. I have another question or two,” he replied. It was amazing how quickly he could switch from one subject to another, with no change in emotion whatsoever. “First of all, how old are you?” he asked, bringing another recording device over to me.
I paused, but not because my brain couldn’t remember. It was something that had completely passed me by, given everything else that had been going on. I had been eighteen when we’d left Earth, but weeks had passed since then. I was a late-summer baby, my birthday falling on the eighth of September. That day had definitely come and gone, and I hadn’t even noticed.
“I’m nineteen,” I said quietly, coming to terms with the fact that I’d spent that milestone on the wrong side of the universe. I had no idea what day it was back on Earth. How long had I been nineteen?
I thought about Jean and Roger celebrating my special day without me, wondering where I was. I knew they were safe, and that they knew I was safe somewhere, thanks to Ronad’s quick thinking. If he hadn’t managed to get them into witness protection, I knew I’d have so much more to worry about. At least this way, I could be sure they were in good hands, their lives protected by the government, out of Orion’s reach.
While hidden inside the walls of the Idrax house, I had the same assurance. Jareth and Kaido would keep me and Ronad out of harm’s way, as long as we didn’t do anything stupid. That was the problem—we were prone to doing dangerous things when it came to the survival of our friends.
Right now, we had no idea whether they were all alive and well. All we did know was that they couldn’t risk coming here to save us. To stop that, we had to get word to them.
Chapter Two
Kaido continued to ask me basic questions about my health, making our session feel like a doctor’s appointment, but one question actually surprised me.
“And, where does your species come from?” he asked.
It didn’t matter how endearing he seemed—he wasn’t getting that information out of me.
“Krypton. I don’t think it’s far from here,” I lied.
“Krypton? I must say, I have never heard of it. You must be a very primitive race not to appear on our celestial maps. In a millennium or so, I’m sure you’ll be of merit,” he remarked. “Did you experience any pain throughout the procedure?”
“A minor stinging at the temples, from the needles,” I replied, then realized an opportunity lay before me. Kaido was a surprisingly open sort of guy; I could seize the moment and ask a few questions of my own. “So, is this what you do all the time? Are you a full-time neurobotanist, the way your father is a full-time alchemist?”
He shook his head, not bothering to look up from his recording device. “I am a soldier by trade. It is why I was permitted to look for you on the other side of Vysanthe in the first place, under the guise of fighting on the battlefield,” he explained. “War is not useful to many people, but it was useful for my purposes, enabling me to capture you and Ronad. True, my initial plan was to obtain Navan, but sometimes we are forced to improvise. With you as a lure, the amended plan will yield the same result—to get Navan to return here.”
“Why haven’t you been sent back?”
“My father has requested an extended leave of absence for me.” Kaido fiddled with the device in his hand. “Permission has been granted for the same reason I could not attend Queen Gianne’s public convocation. My mother requires someone to be in the house, to care for her throughout her illness. I am that designated individual.”
I frowned. “Why doesn’t your father do it? She’s his wife.”
“He is an important man, Riley. He has more pressing tasks to attend to,” he said. “Marriage is a contract, but there is no clause where weakness or sickness is concerned. Should a spouse’s wellbeing be compromised, there is no obligation to offer care. If they are not willing to seek medical supervision, that care falls to a child or sibling.”
“So, no ‘in sickness and in health’?” Honestly, I wasn’t surprised by the coldness of the Vysanthean marriage contract. I’d always been under the impression that there was something a bit Spartan about the coldbloods.
“I do not know what you’re referring to,” Kaido said.
I smiled. “Where I’m from, people promise to love each other through everything, including sickness. It’s in the marriage vows.”
“Your species does seem fairly feebleminded,” he stated with a nod. “I imagine it stems from pack mentality, in which you protect your weakest members rather than leave them behind. You still believe there to be safety in numbers. Our species has surpassed that. Here, we leave the weak and sick to their fate.”
Yeah, very Spartan, I thought to myself wryly.
“If your father is so busy, surely he doesn’t have time for his alchemy anymore?” I prodded, knowing I had to get back on track with my questioning.
Kaido shrugged. “He is an alchemist first, an advisor second. These days, much of his time is spent at Queen Gianne’s side, but he will always find time for his experiments, just as I always find time for mine.”
“You and your father seem to have a lot in common.”
“I am not sure he would agree with you,” Kaido murmured. I could tell what I’d said had bothered him, although it didn’t come through in the way he spoke. It was a perpetual game of reading between the lines.
“You don’t get along with him?” I pressed.
Kaido sighed. “I owe him a great deal. I am not like everyone else. It is impossible for my parents to feel a familial bond toward me,” he said. “My mother is unique in that she shows a level of affection that she should not, but it only serves to increase my debt toward them. I have great respect for my father, and that is all there is to it.”
“You know, I hope you won’t mind me saying this, but there are people like you where I come from, on Krypton,” I said, wanting to make him feel better. I could sense his discomfort, even if he didn’t know how to express it.
He looked up, startled. “Like me?”
“Yeah, people who struggle with social cues, interaction, humor, that kind of thing.”
“I have never found these traits in another species before. Are you quite certain?” Kaido asked, a peculiar expression on his face.
I nodded. “I knew one guy who was very similar to you, and there are countless others. Are there more like you on Vysanthe?”
“They do not live long past the age when their deficiency becomes evident. The state sees to it that they are disposed of,” he said evenly. “I have a lifelong debt to repay, in return for my continued existence here.”
“Were you supposed to be ‘disposed of’ the same way those other coldbloods were— the ones who had the same difficulties as you?” I asked, dumbfounded. My heart ached for him. He had clearly suffered so much, not only at the hands of his siblings, but at the hands of a society that had undoubtedly rejected him.
“I have a great debt to repay,” he repeated.
“Are any of your siblings like you?” I wondered.
Kaido smirked. “No, they are not.”
“Navan told me he had nine brothers and one sister, but I’ve only met four of you. Who are the others?”
For a moment, it looked as though Kaido wasn’t going to indulge me. Then, to my delight, he reached for a stool beside his desk and wheeled it over to where I sat. As he spoke, he undid the restraints on my arms, while removing the nodes that had been recording my vital signs.
“Navan, Bashrik, and Sarrask, you already know,” he said, reminding me of our run-in with Sarrask in the kitchen, the other day. He hadn’t come back since.
I smiled sadly, thinking of Navan and Bashrik. “I do, and I’ve heard about Naya,
too.”
“Well, Rethela is the eldest brother. He works in universal diplomacy. Garrik is next, and he’s in the elite corps as an intelligence officer. In fact, he sometimes worked with Ronad, before everything that happened with my sister,” he explained, barely looking up from his work. “Then, there’s Lojak, who is a ship mechanic. Igor, who works in satellite repair. Harko is in weapons manufacturing, and Szayan in medicine.”
I whistled. “That’s quite the mix. Your parents must be proud.”
“They are. As far as Vysanthean families go, we have had many successes.”
“I just feel sorry for your mother, having so many kids! She must have been exhausted,” I joked, though it drew a confused glance from Kaido.
“Why would she have been exhausted? Do you mean from the births?” he asked curiously. “If so, there was plenty of recovery time in between children, and she decided when the time was right to have them.”
It was my turn to be confused. “What do you mean she decided when the time was right? Were they taking those herbs to prevent pregnancy?”
“No, those herbs prevent fertilization of eggs in the first place, but married couples are not supposed to use such things,” he explained, boggling my mind. “Vysanthean females can hold up to twelve embryos at any one time, and they choose when they wish to gestate those embryos. If they do not wish to gestate any, then they force their bodies to destroy the embryos, to start the process again. Is this not how your species does it?”
I shook my head, aghast. “We have one at a time, and there’s not really much choice in the matter. We have contraceptives and preventative measures, but if you get pregnant, you can’t decide when you want to have it.”
Kaido tilted his head to one side. “How interesting. Would you mind if I took a look at your reproductive system?”
I could tell he was only interested from a biological perspective, but the question prompted a shocked squeal of displeasure from the back of my throat, followed by a burst of laughter. He looked baffled by my giggles, and his confused expression only made me laugh harder.
“I don’t think so, Kaido. That’s not really something you should ask a person,” I chided, though not unkindly.
“Oh, have I caused you some sort of offense?” he asked, seeming genuinely concerned for the first time since I’d met him.
I chuckled. “No, not at all. Just make sure you don’t say that to any female, ever again—especially if you plan to flirt with anyone!”
“I have neither the time nor the inclination for flirtation,” he remarked firmly, which was probably a good thing. “It is a pastime that only ends in disruption and upset, for one party, or both. I find it best to avoid it altogether. It is why I am not considered a party animal, as you would say.”
He eyed me with a look that bordered on amusement, and I realized he’d attempted a joke. It was a terrible one, but I could see that he wanted me to laugh. I imagined that was all he ever wanted from anyone—a sign that he had done well in something. Dutifully, I made a show of chuckling. A smile spread across his face. It was worth it, just to see that.
“So, where are all your other brothers?” I asked, my laughter fading. “Don’t they want to help with your mother, too?”
He shook his head. “I am the only one living in the house at the moment. It is my father and I, and nobody else, though my brothers come and go as they please,” he replied, with a hint of sourness. “Somebody must be here for my mother, and that somebody is me. It is the least I can do, considering the debt I owe.”
“You really think you owe them, just for existing?”
“It is our way, Riley. I would not expect an outsider to understand the manner in which things are done here.”
I sighed, realizing he was a victim of Vysanthe’s indoctrination. Order and discipline, and a strict dogma to live by, had an immense amount of power over the coldblood people. I could still see it in Bashrik from time to time, in the way he looked at us humans and the way he spoke about other species, as though they were inferior. He was a good person, but he was still a product of his early environment. It had even managed to get in the way of his affections for Angie, though a dose of Draconian sense seemed to have put an end to that silliness.
“With so many other things going on, your father must be frustrated about the progress of the immortality elixir,” I prompted, hoping Kaido wouldn’t let me down. Up until now, he’d been more than forthcoming with his information.
To my surprise, Kaido looked me dead in the eyes, a stern tut sounding from his lips. “You should not ask such dangerous questions, Riley. They will only get you into trouble. I would not wish harm upon you, but if you follow that line of inquiry, the outcome will not be a favorable one. Not for you, anyway.”
“I didn’t mean to ask anything bad,” I insisted. “Are you threatening me?” My voice trembled slightly. I wanted him to think that I was vulnerable, instead of deceitful.
“No, I am not. It is a warning about others who would punish you,” he explained, apparently buying my damsel act. “I can see you are frightened, and I did not mean to scare you. I would simply ask that you do not speak of such things again, as it will only end poorly for you.”
I lifted my hands from the chair’s arms and rubbed my stiff wrists. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” I promised. “I was just curious, that’s all.” I doubted Kaido could sense my lie. He wasn’t stupid, by any means, but he was susceptible to certain visual suggestions—the more obvious, the better. Right now, he was looking at a frightened, sad young woman.
“You should go, Riley,” he insisted. “I will examine the raw readings you have given me and come to you later with my findings. Thank you again for agreeing to assist me. I know you did not have to.”
“It was my pleasure, Kaido. If you need any more tests, let me know. I look forward to seeing what you found,” I said as I got up from the chair. He led me out of the lab, before closing the door behind him, sealing himself into his dark utopia of glowing plants.
I darted into the corridor beyond the small drawing room, where Kaido’s lab was hidden, and paused to stretch out my strained muscles. They had been held in one position for what seemed like hours. I could still feel the pinprick of the node needles in my temples, but at least I could think clearly again.
I was just in the middle of cracking my spine in the most satisfying way when I saw Ronad approaching from the opposite direction. He was walking fast, his expression filled with intense purpose. As he noticed me, he picked up the pace, skidding to a halt beside me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking slightly concerned.
“Just a few knots and aches. Nothing I can’t handle,” I replied with a smile. “What’s up with you?”
“Is Kaido busy?”
I nodded. “He’s got readings to study. I think he’ll be occupied for a while.”
“Good,” Ronad murmured, “because there’s something I need to show you. I think I may have found something useful.”
“You have?” I hissed excitedly.
He grinned. “Come on, we’d better not waste any time. Graphs and charts will only keep that poor dork busy for so long.”
I didn’t like him speaking about Kaido that way, despite the kidnapping. However, I figured there was a lot of history between the two of them I didn’t know about, and I didn’t exactly want to weigh in on it, if I only knew some of the story. Besides, a reprimand could wait—whatever Ronad had to show me couldn’t.
With my heart racing, I followed Ronad down the corridor, praying for good news.
Chapter Three
“Are you making any headway with our strange friend?” Ronad asked as we walked along, stopping at every corner to peer around walls and make sure nobody was watching us, like spies in a comedy.
It was weird—there never seemed to be anyone around this place, except for Kaido and occasionally Jareth, when he returned from a day at Gianne’s beck and call. Ronad visited Lorela now a
nd again to keep her company, but I was never invited along. I got the feeling Lorela didn’t particularly care for me, and neither did Jareth. I was a necessary thorn in his side, one that I sensed he couldn’t wait to get rid of, once he had his son back.
We stopped at the intersection of another set of hallways. “You mean Kaido?”
He nodded. “How’s your bonding coming along?”
“He’s a tricky one to read. Sometimes, I think we’re getting along just fine, and then he says something and I’m back at square one.” I shrugged.
“Yeah, he’s like that,” Ronad said.
“Well, it’s not like he can help it.” I felt suddenly defensive again. “He was born that way. He doesn’t process things the same way we do.”
Ronad arched an eyebrow. “You really think so?”
“I know so. I’ve seen humans like him before. They’re just wired a little differently, that’s all,” I explained. “We might think they’re hard to read, but, to them, we’re even harder to gauge.”
“Guess I never thought of it that way. I always assumed he was deliberately being awkward, to get attention. I doubt it’s easy being one of eleven boys in a house of twelve kids,” he mused. “Anyway, do you think you can convince him to help us?”
I made a doubtful sound. “I’m going to need more time, and that’s something we don’t have. For now, I say we stick with plan A. If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to use some of my finest friendship moves and hope they register with him.”
Ronad smiled. “I have to say, I’ve never seen that kid warm to anyone except his mother, but he seems to gravitate toward you. He likes you.”
I pulled a face. “No, he doesn’t!”
“Not like that, I’m sure.” Ronad chuckled. “I just mean, he sees you as friendly territory. You don’t speak to him the way other people do, and I think he responds to that. But you’re probably right—we need to get word to the others fast, and this bonding stuff is anything but fast. Plus, you’ll end up looking like a pincushion if you keep doing those experiments!” He tapped one of the tiny holes in the side of my head, sending a dull ache across my temple.