anyone ever teach you that it’s impolite to stare?” a breathy voice said from the other side of Darcy’s bed.
Darcy jumped and whipped around. Then she groaned and clutched her head. Her vision went black for a second. The sudden movement made her brain throb. She didn’t have a choice. She had to lie back down.
“Caution. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We probably should have kept you tied down.” The owner of this newest voice came into her field of view.
“Oh…” That was all Darcy could say. A person unlike any other she’d ever witnessed stood before her. She instantly made a connection with a small sculpture of a face shrouded in leaves that had hung in her childhood home: the Green Man. It was a symbol of rebirth and renewal that her mother loved.
“Lights.”
The lights came up, harsh and bright, making Darcy squint painfully.
The intense white light revealed a willowy, feminine form standing at Darcy’s feet. This person swayed slightly and turned her face up to the lights in the ceiling. Her voice came out a breathy monotone, but vibrated somehow with pleasure when she said, “That’s better. I am called Hain.”
Very little of Hain’s skin showed, and what did was a muted yellow-chartreuse. She wasn’t wearing clothing. Rather, her trunk was encrusted with coral-colored, striated medallions of varying size that seemed to grow into each other, in an almost crystalline way, over her skin. Her arms and legs were covered with something organic that looked like aged, golden-yellow paint that had developed a network of fine cracks, like crazing. Even her fingers and toes were covered, those digits being long and fragile looking.
Around her neck sprouted a lush wreath of undulating leafy growth in various shades of waxy greens, some scalloped, others fernlike. Loops of fuzzy, mossy filaments draped over her shoulders and around her hips, flowing with her movements. Atop her head was an airy crown of soft, green branching strands, burgeoning in all directions. Even her face and neck were covered with frilly clusters of green plaques, like lichen, creeping over her features. Her deep, sea-green eyes were incredibly large, expressive, and knowing, but she had the barest suggestion of a nose and just a slit for a mouth. She was otherworldly.
Hain turned to the insect. “They all have so much to say when they speak their insular gibberish, but put a civilized tongue in their mouth and they are reduced to mutes.”
The insect chattered a bit. Something told Darcy that sound was laughter. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like anything that was happening here.
She looked down and was shocked to discover that she was naked, covered only by a gossamer-thin sheet. She scrambled to grab the transparent covering, pulling it up to pool over her more private areas.
With growing horror she realized that all of her skin was reddish and ashy. It felt hot to the touch, stripped of all moisture, painful, as though she’d been burned. What were they doing? Experimenting on her?
In addition, there were thin tubes attached to her body. She groped with clumsy, fumbling fingers along them and found they were inserted directly into her left carotid artery.
Hain had gotten close, was peering at her with intense curiosity. Her monotone voice came out slow and deliberate, like she was speaking to someone with diminished mental faculties. “Do you have a name?”
Darcy ground her teeth before answering. Somewhere between her brain and her tongue, the signals she sent were transformed from English into this other language. She was hearing it for the first time from her own lips, but still understood it. “What have you done to me? Why did you take us? Where am I? Where’s Adam?”
Hain’s voice continued with little change in pitch or intonation. “Aha! Did you hear this, Chitin47? I had begun to think the Lovek’s legends were some kind of ancient galactic joke, mayhap as old as the Cunabula themselves.
Darcy jumped and whipped around. Then she groaned and clutched her head. Her vision went black for a second. The sudden movement made her brain throb. She didn’t have a choice. She had to lie back down.
“Caution. I wouldn’t do that if I were you. We probably should have kept you tied down.” The owner of this newest voice came into her field of view.
“Oh…” That was all Darcy could say. A person unlike any other she’d ever witnessed stood before her. She instantly made a connection with a small sculpture of a face shrouded in leaves that had hung in her childhood home: the Green Man. It was a symbol of rebirth and renewal that her mother loved.
“Lights.”
The lights came up, harsh and bright, making Darcy squint painfully.
The intense white light revealed a willowy, feminine form standing at Darcy’s feet. This person swayed slightly and turned her face up to the lights in the ceiling. Her voice came out a breathy monotone, but vibrated somehow with pleasure when she said, “That’s better. I am called Hain.”
Very little of Hain’s skin showed, and what did was a muted yellow-chartreuse. She wasn’t wearing clothing. Rather, her trunk was encrusted with coral-colored, striated medallions of varying size that seemed to grow into each other, in an almost crystalline way, over her skin. Her arms and legs were covered with something organic that looked like aged, golden-yellow paint that had developed a network of fine cracks, like crazing. Even her fingers and toes were covered, those digits being long and fragile looking.
Around her neck sprouted a lush wreath of undulating leafy growth in various shades of waxy greens, some scalloped, others fernlike. Loops of fuzzy, mossy filaments draped over her shoulders and around her hips, flowing with her movements. Atop her head was an airy crown of soft, green branching strands, burgeoning in all directions. Even her face and neck were covered with frilly clusters of green plaques, like lichen, creeping over her features. Her deep, sea-green eyes were incredibly large, expressive, and knowing, but she had the barest suggestion of a nose and just a slit for a mouth. She was otherworldly.
Hain turned to the insect. “They all have so much to say when they speak their insular gibberish, but put a civilized tongue in their mouth and they are reduced to mutes.”
The insect chattered a bit. Something told Darcy that sound was laughter. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like anything that was happening here.
She looked down and was shocked to discover that she was naked, covered only by a gossamer-thin sheet. She scrambled to grab the transparent covering, pulling it up to pool over her more private areas.
With growing horror she realized that all of her skin was reddish and ashy. It felt hot to the touch, stripped of all moisture, painful, as though she’d been burned. What were they doing? Experimenting on her?
In addition, there were thin tubes attached to her body. She groped with clumsy, fumbling fingers along them and found they were inserted directly into her left carotid artery.
Hain had gotten close, was peering at her with intense curiosity. Her monotone voice came out slow and deliberate, like she was speaking to someone with diminished mental faculties. “Do you have a name?”
Darcy ground her teeth before answering. Somewhere between her brain and her tongue, the signals she sent were transformed from English into this other language. She was hearing it for the first time from her own lips, but still understood it. “What have you done to me? Why did you take us? Where am I? Where’s Adam?”
Hain’s voice continued with little change in pitch or intonation. “Aha! Did you hear this, Chitin47? I had begun to think the Lovek’s legends were some kind of ancient galactic joke, mayhap as old as the Cunabula themselves.
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