The length of the days – about thirty-six hours long -- threw off Dani’s internal clock just as surely as the long haul in the cave during the winter gale had. They slept during the hottest and coldest hours of the day -- high noon and midnight up to six hours each. They traveled during what Theo referred to as the growing hours of each day from as few as five hours to as many as twelve hour stretches – depending on how Dani fared – though most days he carried her in order to get more travel time in -- breaking camp in the pre-dawn and setting up shelter at dusk or as blue moonlight filled the forest. There were times he seemed anxious to move on and others when he was content to stop and linger, allowing Dani to rest properly. Those days, at least in the beginning, Dani slept and slept and slept.

At morning, midday and evening Theo made a thorough sweep of each area always reporting the King’s scouts were nowhere to be seen. The news never relieved the tension in his body or alleviated the alertness with which he comported himself daily.

The tension between them eased considerably after Dani’s decision to put off finding Mama. She still had no idea what drove Theo. He was secretive and cryptic as ever, but there were times around the fire when she perused Mama’s notes, charts and maps that he leaned in and filled in the gaps where Mama’s information fell short. He finally admitted that Mama’s map was crude, over simplified and outdated. It showed nothing but the locations of rivers, mountain ranges and the regional government seats. Otherwise, he remained vague about what information was missing.

To help expedite her understanding and ability with the local language, Dani began to record a vocabulary list with the words spelled phonetically in English followed by the interpretation, formal and colloquial, in the journal she always carried in her back pack but had thus far seldom put to use. For example: Hethyilbrefth, the local word for Neanderthal AKA primitive man, pronounced hed-thul-breath, translated to “Mankind from long ages past.” According to that information, from Theo’s point of view, she would be the Neanderthal. At least in this area, Theo was not so laconic and would point to various species of plants and answered her questions about wildlife, typically heard but seldom seen. To these he proffered names and brief accounts of their attributes, mostly what was edible and what was not or how to hunt or trap them.

Though Dani repeatedly offered Theo the use of her camping supplies he persisted in turning her down. She needed to learn how to live off the land he said, if she ever hoped to survive living in the Wild and her supplies might one day prove to be a useful backup in an emergency.

In addition to working with Dani for about an hour each evening on her vocabulary, Theo began to give her small projects to keep her busy during their resting hours. She was working on the hide of a small rodent she had snared a day earlier for their evening meal. He had instructed her on how to set the snare and then let her clean and dress the roly-poly creature – Theo called it a Quibshift. Its black fur was full of silver strands, thick but flexible fibrous spikes. It was the same creature they had eaten their first night in the open that Dani had mistaken for rabbits because of the long ears. Theo tried to instruct her on how to field dress the kill, but instruction was completely unnecessary. Dani had hunted and field dressed a deer when she was fifteen, under the watchful eye of Uncle Bobby. She was not, Theo learned with evident satisfaction, at all squeamish about getting blood on her hands. The meat of the Quibshift tasted sharp and nutty, not at all like chicken or anything else Dani had ever tasted and growing up around hunters she had tasted her fair share of game meat.

The skin was stretched on a frame Theo had directed her to fashion from four branches secured with strips of leather. He called the work she was doing fleshing, using a tool carved from bone that was shaped somewhat like a bear’s paw, rounded at the “heel” and notched at the “toes.”

With her fingers resting in the groves she used the rounded end –it was thin and sharp -- to scrape the membrane off the pelt. Dani saw no good reason to learn such a skill, but it kept her busy, so she worked diligently, following Theo’s careful instructions when suddenly the “bear-foot” tool slipped and sliced into her left middle finger.

“Ouch!” She dropped the tool and brought her finger up to suck the wound.

“Keep that out of your mouth. Do you want to get infected?” Theo warned her as he quickly came around the fire and squatted beside her to examine the wound. He pulled her hand away from her mouth. He washed the wound first all the while muttering about bacteria and woonzghen (once-jen: fire in the belly) fever, more concerned that she would ingest the bacteria that lurked on the animal skin and less concerned that it might contaminate her blood. He then pulled a strip of cloth – one of many twisted into a thick bundle – out of his pack and wrapped her finger with it to staunch the blood flow.

“I have my own first aid supplies, Theo, including triple anti bacterial ointment.”

“Not too deep.” Theo ignored her and tied a knot over the wound. “When the bleeding slows, I’ll dress it with some pooke.”

“What is pooke?” While he explained it was swamp mud with healing properties he ran his thumb over the scar on the outside of her hand.

“What caused this injury?”

She pulled her hand back. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Why should she tell him anything about her life while he told her nothing of his?

He took hold of her hand with a firmer grip.

“This was a deep cut,” He observed.“A recent wound.”

Dani relented. She had no memory of how the injury occurred but she could extrapolate from the evidence. She had broken the “M” and “D” mugs and in the process had cut her hand, or she had cut it on one of the broken dinner plates.

“I cut it on a broken coffee mug.”

He glanced up a question in his eyes.

“Coffee,” She said. How she longed for an extra-large, piping hot cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee. “It’s a hot beverage and a mug is a ceramic cup to hold it.”

“Ah.” He went back to examining the scar. Why he cared was beyond her. Maybe it was just an excuse to continue to hold her hand. She glimpsed the top edge of his second skin inside the collar of his leather shirt: it was rusty. His head was tilted and his eyes cast down. He rolled his thumb back and forth over the scar.

Dani caught herself staring at his short spikey eyelashes.

“Whoever treated it did a fair job.”

“Fair? I thought I did a pretty good job considering I did it singlehanded – so to speak.” She held up her right hand and waggled her fingers.

“You treated yourself?”

“Of course.”

“Not bad.”

“I told you I can handle myself.”

Theo pressed her hand to her shoulder and let it go.

“Keep that elevated,” he said unnecessarily.

He pulled another strip of cloth from the bundle in his pack, tore it in half lengthwise and laid each strip side by side across his large thigh. He rummaged in the pack and produced a rectangular silver hinged box topped with an imbedded amethyst geode of tiny purple spikes which he set on the floor between them. His pack was a bottomless pit of supplies. Dani would not be at all surprised if he one day pulled a sink out of it, faucets, pipes and all.

It appeared the discussion was over. It appeared Theo did not require a blow by blow retelling of the events that had resulted in the injury of Dani’s hand. Not that she wanted to tell him anything about her breakup with Maris or that humiliating letter or admit that she had gotten so upset that she had blacked out and woke up to find her hand wounded and her apartment trashed. Telling Theo or not telling Theo the details of that evening was not the point, it was annoying how not curious he was about her. She wanted to know about him. She was curious.

Firelight winked off the Amethyst box. It captured Dani’s imagination so she picked it up with her uninjured hand. The box that had looked small in Theo’s hand filled Dani’s hand. The silver frame of the lid was an intricately decorated tray into which the rectangular geode fragment had been inserted. The tiny tri-cylindrical nuggets ranged in color from near white, pale lavender to deep purple. The box was etched with a series of faded symbols. Dani was not generally enamored of fine things, but the box with its hinges and symbols and curious locking mechanism fascinated her, but she was especially drawn to the geode. She even fancied it winked at her.

“Where did you get this?” It seemed a strange treasure to be possessed by a man who wore leather he had probably tanned himself.

“It was a gift from Father Prior.”

Dani’s heart leaped. There was a story behind this gift, she knew it as surely as she knew Theo would not enlighten her with the specifics.

The need to satisfy her curiosity about the circumstances behind the gift was visceral, a physical ache in her belly.

Theo gave her a quelling look in response to the interest in her eyes and lifted the box out of her hand.

“The only personal thing I know about you is that you grew up in a monastery.” Dani scolded him. “That explains why you pray over every scrap of food and why you’re so fascinated by my rosary, but that does not explain why you left the monastery.”

“What does it matter?”

“Why are you so secretive?”

“I feel no need to discuss it.”

“I want to know about you.”

“Why?”

“I want to know because I don’t know anything about you.”

“That is exactly how I want to keep it.”

“What are you afraid of? Better yet, what are you hiding?”

“I am hiding nothing.” He sat back on his heels and treated her to a perplexed frown.

“Very well,” He extracted the leather bound book she had seen him reading so often from inside his shirt and handed it to her. The small book was warm. There was no title on the worn leather cover. Its construction was crude, hand sewn, the pages made from what looked like stiffened cloth. Keeping her wounded middle finger out of the way, she thumbed it open to a random page. The page was filled with tight, tiny hand-written script. Thanks to the boyfriend’s efforts and her own quick talent, she could read it without too much difficulty. Dani, examined another three pages. She looked up.

“This is a Psalter. My mother had a Psalter, she read it every day, religiously.” She meant it to lighten the mood but also as a criticism of her mother’s faith.

“Did you make this yourself?”

He shook his head, no. When no more information was forthcoming, Dani stomped her heel against the stone to express her frustration.

“Theo!”

“It was a gift from Anthony.” His frown dared her to pursue the topic of Anthony while it clearly carried a warning, but Dani could not resist.

“Are Father Prior and Anthony the same person?”

“No.”

He took the Psalter from her and returned it to his shirt. He adjusted his weight a little and began to unwind the wrapping on her finger.

“This is exactly why I refuse to answer your questions; every answer only produces more questions.”

Danielle could not help herself, she chuckled and shook her head at Theo. “You have taken being a loner to the nth degree, haven’t you? I can’t imagine what you are afraid of that you feel compelled to guard every nugget of information like it was destined for the vaults of Fort Knox.”

“What?”

“If you want to know more about Fort Knox, you have to tell me something about you first.”

“Danielle, there is little about my other life that you would find interesting.”

She should have known teasing Theo with the promise of information about her world would be met with disinterest.

“Tell me something and let me judge how interesting it is.”

He frowned darkly while continuing to remove the bloody rag. He shook his head, a purely impatient gesture, and glared at her beneath his strong brow.

He shook his head slowly but Dani could see he would relent and she hardly dared congratulate herself, lest she jinx the moment and cause Theo to retract, hiding in his shell of silence like a turtle pulling its head in when threatened.

He worked on her hand as he spoke and Dani watched his face for any sign of emotion that might betray more meaning than the actual words. Also she knew how easily he could distract her with inconsequential details or suspected he might try to change the subject in some subtle way before he parted with any personal information.

“I was born an orphan and farmed out to the Abbey when I was still an infant. I grew up there, was schooled by the monks in the typical early education and when I came of age it was decided I should learn a vocation in the Field of Geology and I was inducted into the Academy. I was to take this early training into the field of education and be given a position at the Academy as one of its teachers.

“I was content. My future, while directed by others without my input was good. I was submitted to the power the Authority held over me.”

“The bleeding has all but stopped.” Theo said with satisfaction

He tossed the bloodied rag into the fire and opened the amethyst box, revealing a pool of the black-green paste Theo called pooke. Theo proceeded to fold one of the strips of cloth until he had made a plump one by one inch square and scooped a portion of the pooke onto the square with the tip of his small utility knife. He applied the square to her finger.

“Pooke?” She wrinkled her nose. “It smells awful.”

“Hold this.”

“And then what?” She encouraged again as she pressed her thumb and forefinger to the outside edge of the bandage, holding it to the curve of her finger. The Pooke had a cool, menthol-like effect and immediately the throbbing pain in the cut lessened. She tried to ignore the swampy smell. “If you were happy, why did you leave?”

“I said I was satisfied and content, not happy.” Theo busied himself winding the third narrow strip of cloth around her finger.

“So what happened?”

“My biological parents never reported my birth to the Authority.”

“I thought your parents were dead.”

“I never said that.”

“You said you were an orphan.” She pointed out.

“I did.”

“If you’re an orphan that means your parents are dead. Right?”

“No.”

“I am completely lost.”

“It is required by law that all babies be reported to the Authority, but especially children of the Ruling Arm because they have to be monitored.”

“Why?”

“Did I not tell you Insiders are not free? Even the Ruling Arm has to answer to the Authority

As they talked, Theo affixed the patch to her finger with the rag and tore the remaining couple of inches in two and tied a knot over the wound. She had not the heart to tell him that with her first aid kit she would have had the cut cleaned, disinfected and wrapped in a nice thin Bandaide about three times over in the time it took him to apply his bandage, which was snug and secure but so tight she couldn’t bend her finger. Not that she was complaining. The nasty, smelly pooke had not only dulled the pain but had eliminated it.

Theo sat back on his heels and frowned at her as she slowly lowered her arm.

“The rules governing the offspring of the Arm are to be strictly observed; they require that the offspring meet a specific genetic standard. When a zygote fails the genetic test it is to be terminated – or if the parents are conscientious objectors they may elect to carry to term and Orphan the child. That means the child becomes a ward of the Authority, to be farmed out.”

“Why?” Dani filed the new phrase, “farmed out” for future reference.

“Why?”

“Why do children of the Ruling Arm have to measure up to a genetic standard?”

“The Authority demands it.

His circular answers would drive her crazy.

“For what purpose?”

“For the same reason it does anything: to increase its power.”

She wanted to pursue the question, because it was interesting, but that would get them off track and Dani wanted to know more about Theo, so she quelled the urge to ask more questions and returned to the subject at hand; Theo’s story.

“So your parents gave you up because you were genetically incompatible with the Authority’s idea of perfection, yet they never informed the Authority you existed?”

“Something like.”

“That is weird. You have no idea why?”

“No.”

“You look perfectly normal to me.”

“I am short,” He said, dead pan.

It took Dani a moment to digest that.“When you say short, how far off the standard are we talking here?”

“Approximately a half meter.”

A meter was about the same as a yard which translated into 18 inches. “So you’re telling me the average man here is seven feet tall?”

There was perplexity in his expression. “No Danielle my people here are bipedal, like you.”

Realizing her mistake, Dani explained that a foot was a unit of measure and then quickly repeated the question substituting the metric equivalent for feet and understanding dawned in his eyes.

“Not all men, only the men of the Arm.”

“The Ruling Arm?” Mama’s notes had mentioned the Ruling Arm, but only sparingly. The Arm comprised the aristocracy, so to speak, the tribal leadership and the Orphan Prince was one of them. Mama’s notes were bare bones. Dani suspected that she had fleshed out the details in the course of writing the books. Not for the first time since arriving on planet Haven, Dani wished she had read the trilogy. If she had she would have a better grasp on the meaning behind the things Theo said. The meaning was something he took for granted. He knew what he was talking about but Dani was at a loss. The link between the aristocracy and Theo being an orphan was a mystery especially since his parents still lived. What did it mean, an Orphan of the Arm? How could Theo be a slave and at the same time a child of the aristocracy?

“And eye color? Are you kidding me?”

“In my case especially.”

She would not have believed him serious had he not ducked a fraction, so it seemed his eye color was a particular source of embarrassment to him.

“What’s wrong with blue eyes?”

“They call it the Aryan Curse. It goes back forever deep into history and many generations of geneticists have diligently struggled to eradicate it from the human genome…but it remains still, a rare recessive gene, this physical anomaly. It is especially objectionable when these anomalies present themselves among the offspring of the Ruling Arm because they are designed to be Aryan free, but it is also objectionable among other classes.”

The matter of fact way in which Theo explained the so called Aryan Curse described better than anything how deeply imbedded the idea was in his culture. It was a centuries old aversion to the blond haired, blue eyed Aryan Ubermench of the Nazi era, but when and why had humanity decided such features needed to be eradicated?

Dani was not at all clear how many years into the future she had traveled, but her curiosity was piqued.

“The Orphan King has blue eyes.” She pointed out. “Very similar to yours as a matter of fact.”

“And light skin and yellow hair, the full impact of the curse. That was why they removed him.”

His lack of emotion indicated the subject was not all too personal to Theo, regardless of his blue eyes and Dani knew that indicated she ought to press for other information, but the very notion that blue eyes, blond hair and white skin being synonymous with evil was ludicrous. It was not that much of a reach to draw that obvious conclusion according to the cool way he talked about the matter, but the idea was so outrageous, she pressed the issue.

“Theo,” Dani could hardly suppress her outrage. “Light skin, blue eyes and blond hair is not a disease. It is not a genetic defect. I have blue eyes and light skin. Am I diseased? If I had been born on planet Haven would I be orphaned?”

“No. You would have been terminated. The choice to orphan unacceptable offspring extends only to the families of the Ruling Arm and among them very few resist termination.”

“By termination you mean abortion,” she said for clarification but when Theo frowned at her she understood the word held no meaning for him.

“What about families outside the ruling class?”

“They are not given a choice.”

“I see.” Dani said with some sarcasm. “A class distinction?”

Theo made no comment. He released her hand and picked up the amethyst box. He closed the lid and returned it to his pack. So far he had kept his tone neutral.

“At some point I expect you to explain the history behind this so called “Aryan Curse”, but for now what I am curious why your parents kept you a secret?”

“As am I.”

“You do not know?”

His expression was stony.

“I only know that when the Authority discovered me an agent at the Abbey was ordered to take me into custody. There was a lesson to be taught, that is what she said, and the Authority was determined, rightfully, o make an example of me and send a message through me to everyone concerned that it would not tolerate such challenges to its wise governance.”

“What kind of lesson?”

A million and one questions flooded Dani’s mind. Her heartbeat speeded up in response to Theo’s wooden tone and the frightening look on his face. He did not answer.

“I was still a boy, very naïve.” In his eyes Theo seemed to retreat to a distant place. His voice echoed with it. “Good people died to protect me and to this day I still do not know the full reason why.”

“All I could do was run away. I got out of there and never looked back”

Next Chapter: Chapter 11