“This cut though, it’s more extreme in color. It’s scary. Also …” I hesitate, but decide to come clean. “You should know, I’m not hungry—ever. Could it be related?”
Doctor Varik places my hand gently on the arm of my chair and goes to a cabinet. He returns with sterile gauze, syringes, and other medical equipment. The blood samples he takes—if you could even call it blood—look weirdly chartreuse in the vials, and I silently scold myself for waiting so long to get help. What if I’ve waited too long to be cured? What if I have an incurable disintegration brought on by one of my own risky experiments with an elixir?
Dr. Varik inserts the blood vials into a shiny device that spins. He also takes skin samples. Then he logs onto a handheld info pad and addresses me. “Have you spent time around Nevada’s Fireseed plants?”
“We collect them, and we’re making things with the leaves. For a contest.”
“Ah, the Axiom Contest.”
“How did you know? And how did you know about Nevada’s Fireseed crop?”
“I’ve known Nevada for a while now.”
Armonk pipes up. “She was the one who saved Dr. Varik when he crashed inside that rock formation.”
If Dr. Varik is so friendly with Nevada why hasn’t he visited The Greening yet, since he’s obviously been here for a while, overseeing the construction of his clinic? I wonder if Nevada knows he’s here?
“Let’s get back to Ruby,” Dr. Varik advises. “Try your best to remember, did you have any cuts when you worked with the plants?”
“Not that I know of.” I think of Thorn and his amazing Red, how he made it out of stuffing his fingernails into the plants stamens and whatever other strange magic he performed. I need to keep that secret though. Otherwise Thorn’s chance of winning the Axiom prize will be about as big as a grain of sand.
“Was there any other way you may have been … contaminated by the Fireseed?” This time Dr. Varik’s concerned stare truly spooks me out.
“They attacked her,” Armonk blurts out. “They stuffed pollen up her nose.”
“Tell me about that,” Dr. Varik urges, over the whine of the blood device. “Who attacked her and how much pollen are we talking about?”
“A lot,” I admit. “I’d collected a whole bag. It was jerks from The Greening who had it out for me.”
Clearly he’s not interested in who did it. “Did you have symptoms afterward?”
“I was horribly sick, with fevers. I was in a coma for a week.”
“For more than a week,” Armonk corrects me. “We were very worried for her, that she might not wake up. Thankfully, she did.”
“How did you feel when you came out of the coma?” Dr. Varik writes holding his fancy holo pen just above his info pad. Flipping off the tiny blood readers, he waits for my answer.
“This may sound odd, but, um … I felt good.” I remember those early days after the coma, my incredible bursts of energy, how I practically flew through the Fireseed fields. “I felt incredibly light on my feet. I could walk super fast, but then I lost my appetite.”
“Maybe she got a parasite,” Armonk guesses.
“And the sun?” asks Dr. Varik, echoing my very next thought. “How did you feel about the sun—how do you feel about it now?” Scanning the holo printout from the blood reader, he grits his teeth.
“I love the sun. I crave it.”
“She stood in it for hours,” Armonk says. “See her scars? It burned her face something awful.”
Dr. Varik tilts my chin up and examines my scars. “I have a diagnosis.” He glances at Armonk and then over at me. “Ruby, would you prefer to discuss it one-on-one?”
“Will it frighten me?” My pulse speeds up. It’s pounding in my neck.
“It may startle you,” he admits.
“I’d like Armonk here then.” Armonk shifts closer to me and takes my hand. “Ready,” I say. Unbidden, the humming starts in my head. I haven’t told the doctor about that part. It’s embarrassing; he’ll think I’m absolutely bonkers. You’re one with us, with us, with us, it sings.
“Fireseed has very unusual properties,” Dr. Varik reveals.
“Figured it might,” I breathe.
“It seems that the pollen, well, has meshed with your system. I mean to say that you are part Fireseed now—part plant based.”
Even before I do, Armonk lets out a gasp and presses my hand to comfort me.
I squeeze his hand back. My heart races with every emotion: shock, fear, even a strange kind of joy, and finally, finally an understanding of the ever-present humming. The freaking plants are talking to me in my head!
“H—how is that possible?” I slide my hand out of Armonk’s and move it to my face. I suddenly have a need to feel my jaw, my cheek and the curve of my brow to make sure I’m still identifiably human.
“My father, Professor Teitur, who was a marine biologist, created Fireseed with an almost magical breeding ability,” Dr. Varik explains. “He created it to withstand desert conditions—”