Only Human (Themis Files, #3)(48)

—How did we get here? Good question. They took a blood sample when they first interrogated me, and they have been very interested in me ever since.

—But why here? They keep people with unusual DNA in camps.

—Well, my test results were more interesting than most. Not all, but most. Your blood is much more interesting if you ask me.

—And what do they want with you?

—They want information, mostly. I’m a…consultant. They consult me on things. They are very, very enthusiastic about it.

—They beat you up while interrogating you.

—Not exactly. They beat me up, period. Then they come and ask questions. Then they beat me up again to make sure I answer their questions the next time they come.

—What kind of questions?

—Hmmm. Technical questions, mostly. They wanted to know how to get a certain robot to function again. I’m a technical consultant.

—What made them think you would know anything about that?

—I’m not sure. I might have said something. I might have said a lot of things while I was being consulted.

—What have you told them?

—I told them…I told them everything I knew, I suppose. They can be very convincing, you know. It turns out people like me are very sensitive to certain drugs they have, and I’ll admit I have a very low tolerance for pain. Whatever I told them, it seems it wasn’t enough because they keep coming back for more. They seem genuinely surprised every time I don’t know the answer to a question. I keep explaining to them that the people who really knew died three thousand years ago. I must not be very good at explaining it.

—You’re the one who told them how to fix the missing leg.

—I remember them asking about that, yes. Oh yes. They asked about that many times. Did it work? They never told me if my solution worked.

—It did. Now they’re using that robot to bend other nations to their will.

—That’s not very nice.

—No. It’s not. I never even thought about what we’d do with that robot after it fell down. I was so happy, so relieved when they all left Earth, I— —You didn’t have time! They took you away. There’s nothing you could have done— —I could have sprayed bacteria all over that robot, disabled every part of it.

—Did you have enough?

—Not at the time, no.

—That’s what I thought. How’s Eva?

—I don’t know. She escaped.

—Escaped? From where?

—I’m sorry. We were being held in Russia. She found a way out of her cell, but I don’t know where she is. I’m worried about her.

—She’ll be OK. Did she have help? It would be better if she had some help, a friend to look after her.

—I don’t know. What are you saying?

—Nothing. Only that if I were in her shoes, I’d like to have a friend to watch over me. Wouldn’t you?

—Yes. I’d like that very much. I’d be very grateful.

—You’re a nice person, Dr. Franklin.

—You used to call me Rose.

—We haven’t met in nine years. I don’t know how you feel about me anymore.

—Why would I feel any different?

—I can give you a hundred million reasons.

—You feel responsible for what happened? You’ve been helping us, helping me, all along! You saved…so many of us.

—You did all that. I just told you a story or two. Besides, someone has to be held accountable, and since my ancestors are not here…They did come for people like me, you know.

—I don’t think you really believe that.

—…

—You know what I’d like? I’d like to hear a story.

—Oh, I think you’ve heard them all. I’m an old man. Old men don’t have any new stories to tell.

—Please? I could really use one now

—Well, there is the one about the blind archer. Have you heard that one before?

—I don’t think I have, no.

—Skaei was a great Viking archer and hunter. That wasn’t her real name—Skaei is a giantess, a goddess in Norse mythology—but she was so good with a bow…So good, she could feed the entire village by herself, and for years she did just that. People said she hunted with her eyes closed, that she could hear the heartbeat of her prey.

She couldn’t. That became abundantly clear when Skaei went blind.

—What happened? Was it an accident?

—Oh no. Diabetic retinopathy. Skaei, she developed type 2 diabetes in her early forties, which, at the time, no one had even heard of. Needless to say, it went untreated. It took a few years, but she lost her eyesight completely.

The village survived. There were other hunters, of course. But one year, during a particularly harsh winter, the village ran out of food. Prey was scarce, and the archers weren’t nearly as skilled as Skaei. People were starving. Many of the men were now too weak to hunt. One of the elders suggested they send Skaei on a hunt. Many, including Skaei herself, were quick to point out that she was blind, but the elder quoted from a few myths about Skaei—the goddess, not the diabetic woman. Once you throw religion into the mix, it’s easy to lose sight of reality—no pun intended—and somehow everyone agreed to put their fate into the hands of a blind archer, believing the gods would take care of them. The elder offered to accompany Skaei into the forest, in large part because he knew that seeing her trip on a branch five steps in would probably be bad for morale.