The Selfless Gene

Chapter 12

A few days pass and the drugs lacing Thame's food become less and less. Something was changing; a plan was in action. Thame looks over in the bleak light and sees a glowing Ormr stretched out.

"There's more for you to see. Some last lessons. You understand love, but for us to truly to move forward, you must feel loneliness, freedom, my constant desperation."

Thame nods, leans against the wall and musters the light in his eyes. They mist over and he slips into his DNA memory.

"The first one, Clotilde, was the worst. I was so driven to escape the prison that I went too hard. She was born into a devout religious family on one side and then had The Order on the other. Both were squeezing her even before I woke within her. When I came back, she thought a God was talking in her head, but eventually she felt my more natural impulses and thought me an evil spirit. Every time she had visions, it made her ill. I thought I could just steamroller through her, take her as a vessel, but she was steely and strong. She'd married young, quietly in a farmstead away from prying eyes. But the madness was too much. The fire inside me just burned her from inside out. My possession was too heavy handed."

Thame looks through Clotilde's eyes. She's gazing across the gentle French landscape, grapes in rows against blue skies, crudely constructed outbuildings. Thame felt that same fire, unmistakably Ormr trying to push out of her skin. He pulsed an unrelenting desire for escape and replication. It was heady, all consuming, even for Thame.

Unable to resist anymore, Clotilde storms out across the farm. She grabs the scruff of a peasant worker and pulls him into an outbuilding. He protests weakly, mentioning her husband, but she silently goes about her business. One way or another this devil must come out of her. She lands a long hungry kiss on the peasant's mouth and rips off his already tatty shirt. Digging in her nails, she squeezes his face he attempts to utter some semblance of a word. Pushing him to the floor, Clotilde climbs on top of him and rides until both are empty.

"She felt okay for a day or so but I kept pushing her. She saw the fires of war, the hatred, the fear, the desire for domination but she didn't understand it. Unbeknownst to her, she was being guided at every step. All the workers are approved by The Cult. Her family grew ashamed as she went through all the peasants, even her husband's family. Both sisters and brothers - I, after all, am not limited by your cultural norms. When she got pregnant, The Cult fixed it so that she would be called mad and taken away. For nine months she was looked after by them, but by then true madness had crept over her. I'd burnt her out in my desperation to escape. In the end, after the birth, The Cult took the baby away. It was the match that set her alight. She literally let the fire out and burned herself to death, her, the house and everything she touched."

"Ormr, I feel sick inside her body, like a permanent uncontrollable discomfort in my gut. You must have felt this anger too. Why push so hard? No human would be ready for that?"

"I caught a glimpse of her burning in a mirror before the flames took her. I was desperate and in denial. The defeat was still close and I needed to know about Aslaug. Of course, I truly knew that she would have passed on but, well, I missed her but wouldn't accept that there was any other way except to take over the vessel entirely."

"Vessel?" Thame lingered.

"Yes, that's how I saw it at first. That was the true denial. I missed the feeling of the sun on your face, of seeing it rise and set. I was angry that I'd lost and he'd won. I was obsessed. I was mourning myself and my situation. As much as you hate The Cult now, without them we wouldn't have survived."

"I feel the anger still, but it's more self-reflecting."

"Thame, I'm showing you and letting you feel my anger and denial so you can recognise it and deal with all my beastly wills."