Stolen Dream

Chapter Five

"Come on, Rave, please?" Fitz begged from her perch at the top of the aquarium. It was precarious to sit up there, holding a needle and trying to convince the mermaid that just a little bit of blood wasn't going to hurt her people. After all, they already had some of her blood and tissue, what was a bit more?

"The blood and tissue you have now was stolen from me, not given to you. I refuse to give you anything that could be used against my people."

"Be reasonable," Herbert said brusquely. "Knowing how your body reacts to stress and confinement could be very helpful to us."

Rave shook her head firmly. "No. If you want to help, get rid of all the samples and analysis you already have. Destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands."

Fitz sighed and climbed down. "She's probably right. We're only doing this because we've been trained to, not because it's the right thing to do."

"I want to know everything," Herbert protested stubbornly, glaring at Rave. "I could simply add an anesthesia to the tank, wait until you're sleeping and then get my sample."

"And risk killing her?" Fitz asked in outrage.

"I have enough knowledge of her metabolism to know how much to give her."

Fitz snorted.

Herbert made a sound unlike anything Rave had ever heard before. "What was that?" she asked Fitz.

"Pure, undiluted frustration."

"Oh."

"He knows he's wrong. He just has to get his head around it. Give him a minute."

Rave nodded.

Herbert pulled on his hair for a minute, then turned, shaking his head. "Fine. I'll stop taking samples and will destroy all my data. Happy?"

Rave nodded.

"Good. I'm not."

Fitz shrugged. It had been two days since she'd been there, but it didn't seem like the relationship between Rave and Herbert had changed much. A bit of a new openness, perhaps, but nothing significant. Herbert was still threatening when he didn't get his way and Rave was still being uncooperative. She did have a few new things around her aquarium to help curb boredom, but that was the only apparent concession. Rave now had a television set and a number of children's books clamped against the glass. Apparently, Herbert was teaching her to read.

Fitz couldn't imagine it was going very well. Not with how impatient both Rave and Herbert appeared to be. They were an interesting duo with a surprising number of characteristics in common. Like impatience and stubbornness. "You're learning to read?" she asked as a conversation starter.

"I'm teaching her," Herbert volunteered.

"How's it going?"

Herbert sent her a telling look.

She glanced at Rave. "Not well, I take it?"

"You could say that. We don't have a written language, so it's...difficult to understand."

"You speak multiple languages fluently, though, right?"

Rave shrugged. "It's not the same. Sounds come easily for my kind. Reading..." She shook her head. "We don't do that. Or write. We remember."

"What about your history? How is that saved without writing any of it down?"

"I told you. We remember."

"Like you remember what your ancestors experienced, or it's taught to you verbally?"

"Kind of."