Chapter 20 Dimitri
DIMITRI
Dave was over two hours late, and Dimitri was starting to worry.
It rarely happened. The Eight were usually punctual to a fault, and none of the possible scenarios that Dimitri ran in his head for why they were late were good.
Dave had many enemies on the island, especially after his elimination of Tarik's crew, and even though the Eight were powerful, there were thousands of lethal warriors on this island, and an ambush was not a far-fetched scenario.
If something happened to Dave, their escape plans went down the drain, but that wasn't the only reason Dimitri was concerned. He had grown fond of the strange new creature that was Dave, and he didn't want to see this new form of life eliminated.
When he finally saw the Humvee parking in front of the lab building and the Eight disembarked, he let out a relieved breath and opened the door for them.
The Eight looked none the worse for wear as they strode in, with Number One leading the procession as usual.
"Good afternoon," Number One said as they took their usual places on the plastic chairs lined against the wall.
"Good afternoon," Dimitri parroted. "Where have you been? I was worried."
All eight pairs of eyes focused on him with identical puzzled expressions.
"Why were you worried?"
"Because you are rarely late, and because there is a lot of animosity toward you since Tarik and his friends met their demise."
"I see," Number One said. "We were never in any danger. We just expanded our tour of the island to include more locations. We apologize for causing you unnecessary concern."
"No need to apologize, but maybe next time call." He motioned at the landline phone on Petrov's station. "Let us know you are running late."
The Eight nodded in unison, then swept their gazes over the lab. "Where are Doctor Petrov and Mattie?"
"Upstairs."
"Are they coming down?" Number One asked.
"Yes. In a minute." Dimitri walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a tray with a row of prepared syringes lined up and numbered.
The enhancement drugs were temperature-sensitive and had to be administered within thirty minutes of being removed from refrigeration.
When he could, he prepared them fresh in time for Dave's visit, but other times he prepared them ahead of time and had to refrigerate them.
He carried the tray to the table and put it down.
"Why are you wearing a mask?" Number One asked.
Dimitri stood with his back to the front facade of the lab, which was mostly made of glass, pulled his mask down just enough so they could see his missing tooth, then pulled it back up.
It was warm against his face and slightly damp from hours of breathing through it, but the discomfort was a small price for the cover it provided.
Dave's eight pairs of eyes tracked the mask with identical attention.
"You're wearing that to hide your face from the guards outside," Number One said.
"And for anyone else who might walk in." Dimitri picked up the first syringe and gestured for Number One to extend his arm. "It fell out last night."
"Can you show us? The glimpse you gave us was not sufficient."
Dimitri pulled the mask down again, opened his mouth, and tilted his head toward the overhead light, letting Dave see the gap where his upper left canine had been.
The socket was nearly closed, the gum tissue pink and swollen, and the hard ridge of the emerging fang was visible just beneath the surface.
Eight bodies leaned forward by the same fraction of a centimeter.
"The right one is loose too," Dimitri added, pulling the mask back up. "Could fall out tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It was Mattie's idea for me to wear it. If anyone asks, I'm sick and don't want to infect her and Petrov."
"Smart," Number One said. "It sounds logical."
"I just hope that the fangs come in before anyone gets suspicious about why I'm still wearing it." Dimitri swabbed Number One's arm with alcohol and positioned the needle. "How fast do the fangs grow in?"
"Fast," Number One said. "Two to three days from when the canine falls out until the fang reaches the size of a normal tooth. The elongation mechanism, the ability to extend the fangs beyond their resting length, takes longer to develop, but the base growth is rapid."
Dimitri paused with the needle hovering over Number One's vein. "Two to three days? That's impossible. Bone growth doesn't work that way. Even accelerated healing can't generate that much mineralized tissue in seventy-two hours. The calcium alone—"
"You need to stop thinking like a human," Number One said.
"Everything regenerates faster for immortals.
You've seen your own bruises heal in minutes.
The same accelerated biology applies to your teeth.
The canines fell out because the fangs pushed them out, which means they are already partially formed.
Two to three days for the final emergence is consistent with what all eight of us experienced.
Still, we were thirteen at the time, and our bodies were in a state of flux, so it might take you a little longer.
We don't have experience with adults transitioning. "
Dimitri administered the injection and withdrew the needle. There was no need to press a cotton ball to the puncture site, and he had to remind himself each time that immortal bodies took care of small things like that in seconds.
He really needed to adjust his thinking and apply the same new rules to himself, but there were some things that didn't add up.
"You said that it would take up to six months for the fangs and venom to become functional. How does that timeframe reconcile with the rapid emergence of the fangs?"
"We don't know," Number One said. "We were not taught biology, immortal or human, so we are just guessing. It might happen faster for you since you are older. We were in the midst of puberty when the changes happened for us."
"So, it might be less than six months for me."
"It might." Number One nodded. "You should explore this when we get free, and you have access to proper research facilities and medical equipment."
"If we get free." Dimitri finished Number Two's injection and moved to Number Three. "I wish I were as confident as you are that it will happen."
Number One shifted his gaze to the staircase, where light footsteps announced Mattie. She must have heard Dave and decided to come down and join the conversation.
Petrov was in the bathroom, where he liked to spend a lot of time, reading printouts while doing his business.
"Good afternoon, Mattie," Number One said as she emerged from the staircase. "How are you feeling today?"
"Good." She lifted her newly bandaged hand. "The doctor was here earlier and checked my hand. He says that everything is healing beautifully."
"We are glad," Number One said. "We also want to inform you that we agree to your condition."
Mattie's eyes widened. "To rescue your mothers?"
"To rescue as many women and children as we can."
Mattie sank onto one of the lab stools as if her knees had given out.
Dimitri stopped what he was doing and looked at Number One. Then at the other seven, who were watching Mattie with identical expressions that were unlike anything he had seen on their faces before.
They looked excited.
"You're serious," he said.
"We visited the Dormant enclosure today," Number One said.
Mattie gasped, her good hand going to her chest. "How? I thought no immortal males were allowed in there."
"We thralled the guards to accept that we had authorization from Losham."
"What happens if they report your visit?" Dimitri asked.
"They won't. It was part of the thrall to make them forget that we were there."
As Petrov's heavy footsteps sounded on the staircase, all of Dave's eyes shifted in that direction.
He cleared the staircase, holding a stack of printouts under his arm. "I heard something about thralling. What did I miss?"
"Dave visited the Dormant enclosure earlier today," Mattie said. "They thralled the guards to let them in and forget the circumstances."
Petrov continued to his station as if he hadn't heard her, put his papers on his desk, sat on his stool, and swiveled it around to face them. "What did you find out?"
"There are about twelve hundred women there, about half still young enough for breeding, and the rest are older and performing other duties."
Dimitri frowned. "Did you count them?"
"Of course not," Number One said. "We gathered the information from the women's minds."
That made more sense. "Go on."
"There are also children. We didn't see all of them either, but from what we've collected from the women's minds, it's over eight hundred."
Dimitri resumed the injections, moving to Number Four, and letting the mechanical routine of swab, position, inject, and withdraw anchor him while he listened to Number One's description of the Dormant enclosure.
He described the dormitory buildings, the communal kitchen and dining area, and the recreation yard.
He told them about how fearful the women had been and how they had scattered before the Eight, gathering children and steering them toward cover with the urgency of a population that had learned to regard male visitors as a threat.
He described Sullha.
Number One's voice changed when he talked about her, not dramatically, but enough that Dimitri noticed. His voice softened, and the words came out more slowly.
"I recognized her from the way she sat, the angle of her head, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear," Number One said. "She had a boy with her. His name is Tomek. He's five years old, and he's hers."
Mattie pressed her good hand against her mouth.
"We reached into her mind," Number One continued. "Just the surface. Enough to understand. She loves the boy. She loves him more than her own life, and her greatest fear is that the soldiers will come and take him before he is thirteen."
"How old was she when she had him?" Mattie asked, her voice muffled behind her hand.