Deeper than the Night Page 24
The sound of voices roused Kara from a drugged sleep. Her eyelids felt as if they were weighted with lead; her stomach roiled with a nausea that was becoming all too familiar.
With an effort, she opened her eyes, felt her last hope for rescue dwindle and die when she saw Alex lying on a narrow metal table beside her bed. In addition to the thick leather straps that bound his arms and legs to the table, there were iron bands strapped across his chest and waist so that he was virtually immobile.
She stared at his chest, but he didn't seem to be breathing. His skin looked pale; there were dark shadows under his eyes. Had they killed him?
Yearning to touch him, she tugged against the leather straps that bound her arms to the cot's frame, but the restraints held fast.
"Barrett!" She screamed the doctor's name. "I know you're here somewhere. Answer me!"
She heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor, and then Barrett filled her line of vision. "What do you want?" he asked irritably.
"Is he dead?"
He looked at her as if she were none too bright. "Of course not, only heavily sedated."
"What are you going to do with us?"
"I'm going to give youa transfusion of his blood, of course."
Kara closed her eyes, wondering if she would ever be free again. The last two days had been like a living nightmare from which she couldn't awaken. And now Alexander was part of it.
She heard Barrett leave the room, and she opened her eyes again, her gaze resting on Alexander's face. How did Barrett know how much of a sedative to administer to Alex without killing him? What if Alex was allergic to the tranquilizer? What if a second transfusion of his blood didn't produce the desired results? What if it did? Would the two of them spend the rest of their lives locked in this room while Barrett grew rich off their blood?
She felt a hysterical urge to laugh. Talk about vampires!
"Alex? Alex, can you hear me?"
Restless and afraid, she glanced around the room. They'd moved the two of them while she was unconscious, she noticed absently.
She frowned as the room began to grow brighter. And then she felt her breath catch in her throat as she spied the long, narrow skylight directly above Alex.
The sun was rising.
Morbid images filled her mind, images of Dracula slowly aging and disintegrating when exposed to the sun. But surely things like that didn't happen in real life.
"Barrett! Barrett!" She screamed his name again and again, her voice echoing off the walls, ringing in her ears, but no one came to answer her cries.
She stared at Alex, saw his hands clench as a narrow ray of golden sunlight streamed through the skylight to rest on his face. He groaned softly, his head turning from side to side in an effort to avoid the light.
"Alex? Alex, can you hear me?"
He turned his head toward her, regarding her through eyes clouded with pain. I . . . hear. . . you. . .
"The sun, what will it do to you?"
It. . . weakens me . . . negates. . . my powers . . .He drew a deep breath in an effort to fight off the darkness that hovered around him.
"It won't . . . It isn't. . . ?" Unable to voice the thought aloud, Kara licked lips gone suddenly dry. What if it killed him?
Not fatal,Alex said, perceiving her thoughts. Only painful . . . like fire . . .Unless he was weakened by an excessive loss of blood. Then the sunlight could be lethal. But he couldn't tell her that, not now, when her eyes were filled with fear.
Kara gazed deep into Alexander's eyes, and suddenly she felt his pain as if it were her own, felt the sun burning his skin, felt it draining his energy, his will to live.
"This is all my fault," she whispered brokenly. "If I'd been stronger . . ."
No . . . my fault . . . should have expected. . . He closed his eyes as a violent tremor wracked his body. He could feel the sunlight warming his blood, making it flow hot and heavy through his veins. His skin felt tight and dry, like charred paper.
"Alex? Alex, answer me!"
The sound of her voice speaking his name soothed his torment, but he lacked the strength to form a reply. As from far away, he heard the sound of footsteps. Barrett's voice giving orders. The sting of a needle pricking a vein in his arm, the sensation of blood being drawn from his body.
Summoning what little energy he had left, he turned his head to the side, saw his blood flowing through a long narrow tube into a vein in Kara's arm.
The sight, its significance, sickened him. Filled with regret for the misery he had caused the woman he loved, he closed his eyes again and plunged into the waiting darkness.
He regained consciousness slowly, and with the return of awareness came the knowledge that Kara had betrayed him. No one else knew the devastating effect the sun had on him. No one else knew that he was inhuman, or that his blood was different from that of anyone else on the planet.
Too weary to open his eyes, he let his senses probe the room. Even in his weakened state, he knew that he was alone, and that it was night. The metal table beneath him was cold; his skin felt blessedly cool.
Time passed. After a while, he opened his eyes and glanced around the room. It was stark and white, bare of furniture or decoration save for the table on which he lay and a metal cart that held a number of needles, swabs, a scalpel, and several other instruments. The room had a single door, no windows save for the skylight over his head.
A sigh of resignation escaped his lips as he gazed at the skylight. Now, at night, it was covered, no doubt to prevent him from absorbing the light of the moon. She had been thorough in her betrayal, he mused bleakly. Dawn was only hours away, not enough time for his strength to return. He shuddered at the thought of spending another day at the sun's mercy.
Closing his eyes again, he summoned what strength he had and let his mind search for Kara. Some instinct, some deep well of trust, told him she would not have willingly betrayed him. Perhaps, if she was near, he would be able to sense her presence, hear her thoughts.
At first he sensed nothing, and then images flickered in his mind: A small green room. An iron-barred window covered with a board. A utilitarian wooden chair, a small table, a lamp with a bare bulb. Kara, kneeling beside a narrow bed, her head bowed, her hands clasped. She was praying. Praying for him.
Kara . . .
Alex?
He clenched his hands into fists as he fought to focus on her voice. Are you . . . all right?
Yes,she replied tremulously. Are you?
Where . . . where are you?
I don't know.
Tell me . . . what's happened?
Barrett gave me some of your blood, and then he drew some of mine. Shortly after that, they locked me in this room. I haven't seenBarrett since.
He clung to the sound of her voice, to the knowledge that she was still alive and apparently unhurt. Has he said anything?
No. They must be testing my blood to see if there's been any change since the transfusion. Alex, I'm afraid.
She wasn't afraid for her own life, he knew, but for his. Her concern wrapped around his heart, warm and soft, like layers of cotton.
Alex? How long can you endure the sunlight?
As long as I must.
But you've always avoided it!
It's only painful, Kara.He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her the truth.
Alex? What aren't you telling me?
There's no danger,he replied slowly, unless Barrett bleeds me excessively.
I'm sorry I got you into this.
Not your fault . . .Indeed, he mused ruefully, he had no one to blame but himself. If he had stayed out of her life, none of this would have happened. And yet, he couldn't be sorry he had saved Kara's life, only that he had caused her pain.
It's not your fault, either. And I'm glad we met, glad for the time we had together.
Alex stared at the skylight, stunned by the knowledge that she had read his thoughts.
Why are you so surprised?she asked. We've been communicating this way for quite a while.
But I was sending you my thoughts . . . planting them in your mind . . . and reading yours in return.
So?
I did not send the thoughts you just received.
So now I can read your mind?He heard the wonder in her voice.
So it would seem.
Alex, it's almost morning.
I know. . . He stared at the skylight. He could sense dawn approaching, knew the sun was climbing over the horizon. Soon, the cover would lift, leaving him exposed to the burning rays of the sun. And even as the thought crossed his mind, the cover began to roll back.
He closed his eyes against the brightness, groaned softly as he felt the first faint rays of the sun touch his skin. Soon the pain would be excruciating. How long could he endure the light of the sun before it killed him? He had always been careful to avoid the sunlight, but had no idea what effect two days of constant exposure would have.
Alex? Alex, are you all right?
He heard her voice but lacked the strength, the concentration, to answer.
Kara called Alex's name again, but he didn't answer. She tried to probe his mind, but to no avail, and then she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside her room, the rattle of a key in the lock. A moment later, Barrett entered her room.
"So, how are you feeling?" he asked.
"You mustn't leave Alex in the sun."
"Oh?"
"He'll die. You don't want him dead, do you?"
"It didn't seem to do him any harm yesterday other than causing some discomfort."
"I know, but too much will kill him."
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"
"Yes, but not about this."
"So, that's the way it is." Barrett rubbed a hand over his jaw.
"Please don't make him suffer."
"I'll take care of it. You're quite right. I don't want him dead. You, on the other hand, seem to have outlived your usefulness."
Kara went suddenly cold all over. "What do you mean?"
"We've conducted several preliminary tests. It seems that it's the alien's blood that holds the key. His blood is incredibly powerful. When mixed with human blood, it produces the necessary curative powers in varying degrees of potency. Unfortunately, the results don't last." Barrett shook his head. "We've established the fact that, to secure permanent results, the alien's blood must be pure, so, as you can see, we have no further need of you."
"Then I can go home?" Even as she voiced the question, she knew what Barrett's answer would be.
The doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid not."
"Please."
"I'm sorry, but you must know I can't allow you to leave here."
"I won't say anything to anyone, I swear."
"I'd like to believe you, but I'm afraid I can't. There's too much at stake here. Surely you can see what a marvelous find this is! His blood restores life! Think of what we might accomplish. At this time, it doesn't seem to be effective in healing broken bones, but it cures disease. It restores life!" Barrett shook his head. "With sufficient research, we might discover that the alien's blood holds the key to curing cancer, AIDS, heart and kidney disease. The possibilities are endless."
Barrett began to pace the floor. "And the possibility of extending our life span. Think of it! He's lived for two hundred years. Of course, there's no way to know if an injection of his blood will lengthen a normal life span, or if there might be more involved than that, but think of the possibilities!"
He rubbed his hands together, the gesture reminding Kara of a miser contemplating an increase in his wealth. "We've already started testing on lab rats. In time, we'll need human subjects, but they shouldn't be hard to find."
"No doubt you're doing all this out of the generosity of your heart," Kara remarked sarcastically, "and this boon to mankind will be available to rich and poor alike."
Barrett stopped pacing. "The first, experimental doses will, of course, be offered free. After that, I'm afraid we'll have to be more circumspect." He shrugged. "After all, the alien has only so much blood. Unless we can find a way to reproduce it synthetically, I'm afraid the price will be dear."
Kara stared at Barrett, horrified by his constant use of the term "alien." To Barrett, Alex was no longer a man, but an inhuman species. As such, he didn't merit consideration or mercy. Barrett could experiment on Alex, abuse him, confine him, with a clear conscience.
"You can't keep Alex locked up for the rest of his life!" Kara exclaimed in horror. Alex might live another two hundred years. She tried to imagine what it would be like for him, to spend the rest of his days locked up, being poked and prodded, while vials of his blood were sold to the highest bidder.
"The rest of his life," Barrett repeated. "Who knows how long that might be?" He chuckled softly. "Don't waste your time worrying about him. He's not human, after all." Barrett frowned thoughtfully. "Think of it! I hold the living proof that there are life forms on distant planets. Who knows, once I've found a way to reproduce his blood synthetically, I might turn him over to the government."
Barrett nodded slowly, as if a new thought had just occurred to him. "Think of what he might be able to tell them, the advances we could make in space travel. This could be a boon to the space industry! Well, no point in thinking of that now,"he said briskly. "I've got too much to do."
With a curt nod, Barrett headed for the door.
"Wait!" Kara grabbed the doctor's arm. "What are you going to do with me?"
"I'm afraid you've become a liability. Miss Crawford. But don't worry. I am a doctor, after all. Your demise will be quick and painless, I promise."
"No! Please let me go home."
"I'm sorry." He stared at her, a flicker of genuine regret in his pale blue eyes. "Sorry," he said again, and left the room.
The sound of the key turning in the lock sounded like a death knell.
Kara stared at the door. Quick and painless. Somehow, the words weren't very comforting.