come up.
“I woke up just as it happened,” Marc says. “It was like some kind of huge hand grabbed me from behind. That’s all I know.”
“Grabbed you from behind in bed?” I persist.
“I just told you, that’s all I know.”
The black guy finally speaks. “My name is Ora Keiru. I’m from Sudan. I was milking a goat when I was taken here. I saw the light you all speak of.”
There’s a dignity in the way he talks, and he’s certainly a sight for hungry female eyes. Six and a half feet tall, powerfully built—his long legs look as if they were designed for chasing down wild animals.
“What time of day was it?” Chad asks. To me it’s obvious he’s trying to establish a pattern to when we were abducted, and I think I see it. Yet I say nothing about the timing. I’m curious about Chad and want to see where he goes with his questions. I started out by joking about his high IQ but now I’m beginning to see he’s probably smarter than any of us.
“Late afternoon, close to the evening,” Ora replies.
“How old are you?” I ask.
Ora hesitates. “I’m not sure. My parents died when I was young and I’ve never celebrated a birthday. I live far from the city with two sisters. My country is poor but the land is beautiful and so are the people. I would not trade my home for any other place.”
“What are your sisters’ names?” I ask.
“Klastu and Ariena.”
I can’t help but notice the affection in his voice; it makes me smile. “I’ll bet they’re baby sisters,” I say.
“Neither is a child anymore, but I am the eldest.”
“Great,” Marc says, and claps his hands. “Finally, we’re all introduced and feeling better about each other. Now let’s figure out how the hell we got here.” He pauses. “Any ideas? Anyone want to speculate? How about you, Chad? It sounds like you’re the brain here.”
Chad smiles shyly. “I wouldn’t go that far. But you’re right, we need to figure out why we’re here and where here is. I suggest we start with what we do know.” He stops and looks around at our metal cell. “We’re in a large vehicle of some kind and it appears to be moving. The question is—are we on the ground or in the air?”
“If we were on a railroad track, we’d hear constant repetitive noises and feel slight bumps from the track,” Marc says.
“The fast trains in Japan are supposed to be almost silent,” I say. “They use powerful magnets and sort of float along.”
“They don’t float,” Chad corrects me. “The magnets are used to reduce the friction with the track and give a smoother ride.” He pauses. “And there’s not a lot of places in the world that have them.”
“So you think we’re in a plane?” I ask.
Chad considers; I can see the gears turning inside. “Even on the smoothest flight in the world you feel some slight rises and falls as you hit air pockets. But I’ve been awake ten minutes and not once have I felt a sudden drop in elevation—not even a tiny one.”
“Does that mean a jet’s out of the question?” I ask, and it strikes me then that, except for Shira, we’re all behaving pretty rationally—almost too rationally. I tell myself that my inner calm comes from the fact that I’d been warned by Cleo that weird shit was right around the corner. But the reasoning feels thin to me.
It makes me wonder if we’ve been drugged.
It also makes me wonder why I don’t feel more bitter about my kidnapping, especially after my talk with Cleo. I’ve no illusions that my abduction is not somehow connected to the Lapras’ need for a new leader and the Alchemist’s mysterious desire to be involved in that selection.
Yet a part of me accepts that what’s happening now is little different from what happened to me in Las Vegas. The bottom line is I was born with seven witch genes, and because of that fact I’m cursed to have a “destiny,” perhaps an important one—and all my bitching to the contrary is not going to change
“I woke up just as it happened,” Marc says. “It was like some kind of huge hand grabbed me from behind. That’s all I know.”
“Grabbed you from behind in bed?” I persist.
“I just told you, that’s all I know.”
The black guy finally speaks. “My name is Ora Keiru. I’m from Sudan. I was milking a goat when I was taken here. I saw the light you all speak of.”
There’s a dignity in the way he talks, and he’s certainly a sight for hungry female eyes. Six and a half feet tall, powerfully built—his long legs look as if they were designed for chasing down wild animals.
“What time of day was it?” Chad asks. To me it’s obvious he’s trying to establish a pattern to when we were abducted, and I think I see it. Yet I say nothing about the timing. I’m curious about Chad and want to see where he goes with his questions. I started out by joking about his high IQ but now I’m beginning to see he’s probably smarter than any of us.
“Late afternoon, close to the evening,” Ora replies.
“How old are you?” I ask.
Ora hesitates. “I’m not sure. My parents died when I was young and I’ve never celebrated a birthday. I live far from the city with two sisters. My country is poor but the land is beautiful and so are the people. I would not trade my home for any other place.”
“What are your sisters’ names?” I ask.
“Klastu and Ariena.”
I can’t help but notice the affection in his voice; it makes me smile. “I’ll bet they’re baby sisters,” I say.
“Neither is a child anymore, but I am the eldest.”
“Great,” Marc says, and claps his hands. “Finally, we’re all introduced and feeling better about each other. Now let’s figure out how the hell we got here.” He pauses. “Any ideas? Anyone want to speculate? How about you, Chad? It sounds like you’re the brain here.”
Chad smiles shyly. “I wouldn’t go that far. But you’re right, we need to figure out why we’re here and where here is. I suggest we start with what we do know.” He stops and looks around at our metal cell. “We’re in a large vehicle of some kind and it appears to be moving. The question is—are we on the ground or in the air?”
“If we were on a railroad track, we’d hear constant repetitive noises and feel slight bumps from the track,” Marc says.
“The fast trains in Japan are supposed to be almost silent,” I say. “They use powerful magnets and sort of float along.”
“They don’t float,” Chad corrects me. “The magnets are used to reduce the friction with the track and give a smoother ride.” He pauses. “And there’s not a lot of places in the world that have them.”
“So you think we’re in a plane?” I ask.
Chad considers; I can see the gears turning inside. “Even on the smoothest flight in the world you feel some slight rises and falls as you hit air pockets. But I’ve been awake ten minutes and not once have I felt a sudden drop in elevation—not even a tiny one.”
“Does that mean a jet’s out of the question?” I ask, and it strikes me then that, except for Shira, we’re all behaving pretty rationally—almost too rationally. I tell myself that my inner calm comes from the fact that I’d been warned by Cleo that weird shit was right around the corner. But the reasoning feels thin to me.
It makes me wonder if we’ve been drugged.
It also makes me wonder why I don’t feel more bitter about my kidnapping, especially after my talk with Cleo. I’ve no illusions that my abduction is not somehow connected to the Lapras’ need for a new leader and the Alchemist’s mysterious desire to be involved in that selection.
Yet a part of me accepts that what’s happening now is little different from what happened to me in Las Vegas. The bottom line is I was born with seven witch genes, and because of that fact I’m cursed to have a “destiny,” perhaps an important one—and all my bitching to the contrary is not going to change
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