Between

Chapter Seventeen

Laboratory Deck aboard the Corzean Research Liner, CRL Lorskoto, Extreme Northwestern Corzean Sea

J'taka Den-Keerta's expression was stone solid as the human scientist drew back the top of the syringe, filling the tube with the fluorescent blue blood of the Kinnarr. This had become routine to him, and the bruises left upon his scaly arms now seemed as permanent as the ink some humans wore beneath their own skin. By the time she was finished, six vials had been filled with his blood, and the silver-feathered Kinnarr felt feeble at the loss. Every day the scientists took more. Soon, J'taka feared, they would all but draw him dry.

"On your feet, savage," issued the scientist and, having energy for nothing else, the male stood upon two barely cooperative legs. When he stumbled and dropped to his knees upon taking the first step, the scientist made no move to assist him. Her eyes only stared coldly down at him, and he wondered if she truly could not even bear the intelligence to understand why he had fallen. The red feathers of his crest sagged weakly along the sides of his face, covering the blue feathers over his ears, and his black, hooked beak remained open while he strained to catch his breath.

Without warning, a painful jolt of electricity tore through him, emanating from the place between his wing joints, and J'taka roared in fury. His left wing, still healing after its injury during the sinking of the Tonmeirton, tensed and spasmed.

"I said on your feet!" shouted the woman over his sounds of pain, and the Kinnarr shoved himself back into a standing position. He towered over her at nearly seven feet, but it was obvious the scientist understood her own meager size was vulnerable only when J'taka was in good health. She threatened him with the electric prod again, but did not touch him with it. "Go," she demanded. "You have more work to do."

J'taka, green eyes blazing, grudgingly did as she instructed. When he had crossed through the door, two armed human guards took their place at each side of him, cuffing his wrists and quickly tying his wings together.

As they led him down one of the many corridors, J'taka realized they were not returning him to his cell. Instead, they were passing it. They stopped, however, at the cell immediately next to his own, and turned to face him. His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he kept the rude commentary floating at the forefront of his mind to himself.

"The Master Controller has ordered us to consolidate cells," issued the first guard, staring hard at the Kinnarr. In truth, J'taka was surprised they would even have bothered to explain themselves, but he listened attentively. "It seems we have some new specimens on the way, and since you are one of our more...well-behaved...individuals, he saw fit to place you in shared containment."

J'taka blinked, nonplussed.

"Consider yourself lucky, savage," said the other guard. "You get company. They brought her in special a few days ago, but the MC says it doesn't even really matter if you eat her."

J'taka's crest flattened at the insult and he quivered, but he managed to maintain his silence.

While one guard opened the door to the cell, pivoted him, and began undoing his restraints, the second guard kept a gun trained on the back of his neck. When he was freed, they both shoved him inside and slammed the metal door shut behind him. J'taka whirled about and smashed his fists into the metal, a last ditch effort to break free while he might have stood a chance. Alas, it was not to be, and so, he bent his neck and lay the top of his head against the cold steel until his breathing returned to normal once again.

When he turned around, he was shocked to see the form of a human female standing stock still on the other side of the room. Her eyes were wide and concerned, but it was clear she was not frightened beyond her sensibilities. She was taller than the other scientist but still diminutive in stature, though her current stance did not express to him that she was so bold and foolhardy as the one who had drawn blood from him that morning. What confused him more than anything, though, was her state of dress.

The woman before him was clad in a uniform virtually identical to the scientists he had met during his stay on the prison ship. The difference here, though, was that the typically white, perfectly kept fabric, was torn in places and stained with large blotches of dark red human blood.

For a long moment the two simply stared at one another, perhaps in apprehension, or perhaps in mere uncertainty of how to break the silence. Finally, as J'taka considered himself the more physically threatening one in the room, he decided he should be the first to speak.

"You are a scientist," he remarked in a low, smooth voice that seemed to shock the female even more. His head turned sideways so that one green eye could sweep her from head to foot and back. "Yet you are contained here, and you are injured."

It took another few seconds, but then the human gave a cautious shake of her head. J'taka turned his own head again to peer at her out of the opposite eye.

"I am not injured," she declared, and he watched her rub one forearm with her opposite hand. She was nervous. "I was, but I am no longer."

"But you are held against your will, like me."

"It was a risk taken that unfortunately came to pass."

J'taka turned down the corners of his mouth.

"I do not understand."

"I broke the law," answered the human.

"So you feel you have reason to be here," J'taka connected, nodding once, but still feeling uncertain. "So far as I can tell, I broke none of your human laws, yet, I am here as well."

The Kinnarr could see that the emale was still quite tense. Her hands hung straight at her sides and trembled very slightly, and her eyes darted anywhere but in the direction of his own. He suddenly wondered if she had ever seen a Kinnarr before. The longer he studied her, the more he became convinced she had not. J'taka wasn't sure if this realization worried or interested him more.

Finally, bursting from her lips as did fire from a volcano, the woman cried, "What are you? Do you have a name? Where are you from? How do you speak such perfect English?"

J'taka's silver feathers ruffled at the barrage of questions as his suspicions were confirmed. This human did not know of the Kinnarr, even though she wore the dress of the other humans who did know his people. Green eyes glanced at the inviting mattress of the cot, and the male made his way toward it on weak, trembling legs. Once he had settled upon it, he spoke, but his voice was hoarse this time and it no longer sounded quite like his own.

"My name is J'taka Den-Keerta, and I am a journeyman of the Kinnarr. Once, too, I was a Ketchmaster of the ketch the Tonmierton. My kind resides in the far north, beyond the frozen barricade, where only the boldest of your people have ever dared to venture." He paused, sighed, and fixed her with one eye. "I admit I am...surprised...that you do not know of us."

The woman scrutinized him then, much as he had earlier done to her. Once or twice she brushed long hair from her face, and the Kinnarr was taken aback by the depth of brown eyes hidden behind it.

"I would assume you to be one of the Olerians with whom my country is at war," she began thoughtfully, "but I am certain all Olerians are human and that we would have heard of your...physical appearance...if that were not so. Therefore, you must not be an Olerian, and Olerians are all that I know outside of Corzibar."

J'taka gave a dry chuckle.

"Indeed, you are correct. My kind are a kind all their own. I am aware of these Olerians, just as I am aware of your Corzibar, though I was under the assumption that your race as a whole knew also of us."

"Apparently not," muttered the female.

She started toward the cot as though to join him, but the door opened before she could reach it. Both individuals froze, staring at the guards who entered. They made a beeline for the female, who began to kick and pummel and screech when the first guard laid a hand upon her. J'taka, weakened from his own ordeal both that morning and for the previous days, knew he would be of no help to her should he try to attack the guards. Instead, he held his place on the mattress, tense, his good wing twitching subconsciously, and watched with a sick sense of dread while the guards sent a jolt of electricity through their fellow human being just as had been done to J'taka himself.

She ceased fighting then, going limp against their grasps, and the Kinnarr felt his blood boil when the door closed behind them.

What kind of society was this that laid such cruelties upon others of their own kind?