Olivia fiddled with the edge of her pillow, trying to catch a single thread with the tip of a claw. She hadn’t moved in any substantial way since throwing herself onto the bed hours ago, a day after her checkup. The amount of effort required to get up and pace just didn’t seem worth it anymore. Seven steps one way, then seven steps in the other; the only alternative to tearing up the corner of her pillow. Seven steps, back and forth.
I hope the others are OK. How long have I been here? I think it’s been four days. Maybe three. Or was it five? I don’t know. She closed her eyes, shutting out the bright lights of the cell. What are they doing? What if one of them got hurt, or shot, or broke a limb? Are they OK after that alien thing?
Olivia sighed. I’m worrying too much. They can take care of themselves. But I don’t even know if they got away from the cops. I should ask the scientists. Should I ask? Why would they even answer that question?
This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lost my temper. I just want to see them again. This isn’t home.
Think about something else. Olivia got up and extended her wings as far as possible. The wing tips came within a couple feet of the walls. I just want to get up and fly. Anything but this. Why am I even putting up with this? Why didn’t I try to get out when they opened the door? The hidden cameras bore into her. They’re watching me, and it’s getting annoying. They’ve given me nothing but vague promises about my past. That’s it. It’s good to know health stuff.
A green light flashed on the wall, followed by the food slot opening up. Oh, something to do. Olivia got up, grabbed a fork off the tray, and poked at a warm, cooked slab of beef. I wonder what they’ll do if I refuse to eat it? Not that I will, steak is pretty good. Smells good, too. So much less grease than fast food, even if it is a little tougher.
She scarfed down the meal. Yay, now I have nothing to do again. I already took a shower, and that’s about all there is to do in here. The food tray disappeared behind the slot. At least they gave me utensils this time. Didn’t they say something about letting me read some books? I think they did, but I still don’t have them.
She turned her head around, taking in the minimalistic sight of walls of concrete. The only seam in the walls marked the door. Oh my god, I’m so bored I’m studying a wall. She threw herself face first onto the bed once more. A sigh escaped her. Nothing to do but sleep, I guess. Or I can finish ruining the edge of this pillow. It’s so quiet here. Time stretched on, until she passed out as the lights dimmed.
***
The intercom crackled to life soon after Olivia finished breakfast the next day. “Olivia, this is Dr. Dabrowski. I was present for your physical a couple days ago. You remember, correct?” came the no-nonsense voice of the doctor.
Olivia blinked. “Yes. Of course. Um, why?”
“We’re not entirely confident how feral memory works. One of our goals which you can help us with is establishing what is lost, and what is gained. We can perform all the physical tests in the world, we can only make educated guesses as to the conditions of the mind. You are one of the few ferals here capable of speech, and the only really capable of answering any sort of in-depth questions.”
Few? Not only?
“Oh, and one more thing I have been asked to pass along by our head of security,” grumbled Dr Dabrowski. “In case no one has informed you yet, you are being recorded at all times.”
“I don’t like that?” If that makes them change it, great. But it hasn’t affected me at all so far.
After a brief pause, Dr. Dabrowski said, “Was that a question?”
“Kind of. I think.” I’m not quite sure what question I should be asking, honestly.
“Part of it is security, as Mr. Walker insisted. The other reason is research. Behavioral, mainly.”
Research. Wonderful. I’m a bug or something. “So, um, did you find out anything?” Am I weirder than I thought I was?
“Dr. Sullivan, our psychologist here on staff, noted that you have been acting as any new solitary confinement inmate would. She also noted that solitary confinement is not ideal for mental well-being and recommended that we open talks with you a couple days ago. I agreed.”
Like a bug. Just something to watch. “Oh. Um, thank you.” You guys have been honest with me so… wait. I keep telling myself that, but have they? They could just not be telling me stuff. “When you said answers for me, you meant, you know, who I was, right?”
“That is actually why I’m here to talk to you today. Would you like to continue this conversation face to face? I am here with Dr. Grey and an assistant; they would like to join as well.”
Well, Dr. Ruskov knew a lot of stuff. “That sounds fine,” replied Olivia.
“Very well.” The intercom went dead.
Just as before, the doors opened to admit two bizarrely familiar guards. The first was the man in sunglasses, despite the fact they were indoors and Olivia had yet to see the sun since arriving. The tanned man with tattooed forearms didn’t make an appearance. In his place stood another pale man wearing sunglasses indoors, identical to the other. They smell exactly the same. Even Ben and Rob smell kind of different. Olivia fought the urge to hiss at the heavily armed weirdness and sat at the edge of her bed again with her tail curled up behind her. Don’t be a monster, be a person.
The scientists filed in after with Dr. Dabrowski at their head, doing their absolute best to ignore the guards. After Dabrowski came an overweight man in an ill-fitting tweed jacket. He reeked of cigarette smoke, and a faint whiff of something else familiar she couldn’t quite place. A wide smile with no warmth split his face at the sight of her. Blankets rustled as Olivia realized her wings had puffed out a foot each at the sight of him. The last, a young man about Katie’s age, wheeled in a pair of office chairs, with a small stack of binders, a clipboard, and several spare pens perched atop one.
Dr. Dabrowski cleared her throat and said, “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.” She’s so formal at random times. Then we talk more, and she forgets all about it. “This is Dr. Grey, our resident neurologist,” added, motioning to the man in tweed.
“Hello.” Olivia gave them all a small wave before remembering that revealed her claws. “How are you?”
“Oh, oh, she’s so polite,” said Dr. Grey, studying her with dark, shiny eyes.
“Much the same as before,” replied Dabrowski as she studied her clipboard. Come on!
The assistant Dabrowski never bothered to name glanced at both doctors, then with a hesitant nod said, “We’re good. How are you?”
Thank you. “I’m OK. Bored though. You said you were trying to figure out who I am?”
They sat before her with notes in hand, though out of arm’s reach once again. The assistant stood off a few feet behind them, keeping quiet.
“Yes. We are working towards discovering your previous identity. Your answers may help expedite that process. Usually there are substantial clues as to where ferals originated from, but you have none.”
“Yes, yes, quite the mystery,” added Dr. Grey with an amused smile. Does he blink?
“Clues?” Olivia asked them.
“Yes, where you were originally sighted and the site of the trigger itself is a good indicator. From there we can work out who was where at the time. Eyewitnesses help as well. My expertise is not in forensics, mind you. I do not know exactly how they draw their conclusions, but law enforcement does eventually forward any medical records they can find to us and who they believe the feral was. In your case they don’t know.”
“Oh. OK.” Olivia spoke up again, right as Dabrowski opened her mouth to speak. “Why- oh, sorry,” said Olivia as she realized she’d cut Dabrowski off. Dr. Grey giggled.
“No, continue.”
“Um, why do the police care?”
The doctor tapped her clipboard for a moment. “There are several reasons. A feral trigger is technically a homicide. At least, that is my understanding, I’m no legal expert on the matter. If nothing else, they give closure to a community, and feral attacks are well publicized enough for them to not sweep it under the rug. As for your case, the fact that you appeared out of nowhere is ringing MHU alarms.”
“They didn’t seem to look for me too hard. When I was with my friends.”
“I spoke with Cyrus on the phone when you first appeared. I believe he had hoped for more peaceful talks with you, on your own terms. He seemed strangely knowledgeable.”
“What… what do you mean?”
“There are many misconceptions about ferals among the general public, and even the scientific community outside of this facility. I got the impression that he knew more than he let on, which was surprising, to say the least. I assume he has, or had, a feral relative.” I saw that mantis feral, but it’s still annoying how everyone thinks I’m just going to go crazy and kill everything or get killed. “That’s fine. Now, obviously you are capable of speech, so the next question is whether you can read and write.”
“I… I asked for a book. You know, when you talked to me earlier.”
“A comic book, yes. We were fairly confident you could, but we needed to make sure.”
More and more inane questions followed. Grey and Dabrowski tag teamed back and forth, asking about seemingly random minutiae of her concept of politeness or the structure of the alphabet, her mood at the time of seeing said minutiae, and any connection she had to other minutiae. Time dragged on and on. Olivia felt her jaw clench. No, don’t get angry. I do stupid stuff when I’m angry. I’m here because I got angry.
“No, I don’t know how I know stuff. I just remember random stuff,” said Olivia, suppressing yet another sigh. With any luck that blanket statement will make this stop.
Dr. Dabrowski blinked. “Very well, we’ll leave the rest for a later date.” Later. Wonderful. I miss my friends. I don’t think they ever wasted my time. “If you are comfortable with telling me, what is the very first thing you remember? Not a concept like we’ve been discussing, but the first thing you remember doing, as yourself.”
“I woke up.”
The silence hung in the air until the doctor asked, “Could you specify? Anything notable about your surroundings?”
“Well… I was in this alleyway. There was a dumpster between me and the street. It smelled pretty bad. It was raining. That was it, really.”
“No blood?” asked Dr. Grey.
“No!” exclaimed Olivia as she shot fully upright on her bed. “Why … no. I don’t like killing. I don’t want to hurt anyone. No blood. Just dirt. Some trash. Nothing else.”
The guards, somewhat relaxed and bored before, tightened their grips on their weapons. “Everything alright?” asked the guard on the right.
“Yes, we’re fine,” said Dabrowski, waving him off. “That is not what we were alluding to. How much do you know of the actual, physical feral transformation?”
“I’m… I’m not… human anymore.” There, I said it. Happy?
“Yes, but I’m talking about the actual process. That brief span in time between pre and post trigger.”
“Um, I don’t know.” I haven’t really thought about it before, actually. I think I just kind of try to ignore it.
“There is only one that has ever been captured on video, but there are more than enough eyewitness accounts for us to get an accurate picture. They are brutal. Bloody. I will save you the description, unless you truly want one. But the point is you did not wake up at the site of your trigger. This has some unfortunate implications.”
The doctor spun in her chair and motioned to her assistant for a white two inch binder labeled FOUND DECEASED IV. “If I recall correctly, you have had a face to face encounter with another feral, yes?” She set the binder down on her lap and rifled through the tabbed sections. She stopped at the last one. “The mantis specimen? It was killed by a combination of claw and gunshot wounds.”
“Phenomenal, phenomenal work there,” murmured Dr. Grey, reading over her shoulder.
He, not it. “Yeah. He was attacking us.”
“Indeed. It was caged, and probably mistreated, but that is common for ferals if they are not killed outright or if the government gets to them first. Exotic pets, fighting rings, unconventional weapons. What is unusual is that you appear to have no memory of how you got to that alley in the first place. I cannot fathom why someone would just put you there and leave. Was there anything on your person at the time?”
“Um, no.”
“Really? No note, no jewelry on you, no scrap of clothing?”
Olivia felt a small blush creep up her cheeks. No clothes out on that street. Ew. “No,” she said, eyes fixed on the edge of the desk in front of her.
The doctor leaned back in her office chair. “That is very surprising. Are you absolutely certain?”
“Yeah. My friends asked me this stuff before.”
“Yes, I’m sure your friends are quite capable, but we have access to greater resources and expertise,” dismissed Dr. Dabrowski. She steepled her fingers and pursed her lips, remaining quiet for a moment. I know, I’m weird. “I don’t believe something like this has happened before, to my knowledge. We’ll see what the Westward investigators make of this.”
Olivia frowned as Dr. Dabrowski turned to hand the binder back to her assistant. Great, nothing new. She’s kind of mean, and Grey is just creepy. There’s something wrong with his eyes. I can’t even tell the color. Are they blue or grey? She shied away as Grey noticed her staring.
Dr. Dabrowski said, “I believe that is all of our questions for today. Dr. Grey?”
“No, no, nothing else from me,” he replied with a wave of his hand.
“With that said, Dr. Sullivan, our local psychologist, would like to meet with you tomorrow, Olivia. Not here, but in her office in the upper levels.” Olivia sat up straight. I can leave this horrible cell! “However, both me and Mr. Walker will have to clear you for this. Your behavior has been exemplary in the past few days, but there are a few more questions that I must ask. Mr. Walker will have a few later today.”
“OK. What?” asked Olivia, failing to disguise her eagerness.
“Very well. Now, there are several deaths attributed to you. Would you deny that?”
The wind left Olivia’s sails. There it is. She hung her head and whispered, “No.” I was stupid. I was stupid and lost control and other people died and I tried to ignore and forget about it. Stupid.
“A pair of bodies found in an abandoned apartment building. One week later, a large mantis feral of unknown origins found torn to pieces in an illegal fighting ring, along with several other clawed bodies. And a few days ago, a man found disemboweled, along with… an alien?”
Olivia nodded.
“Fascinating.
“The first one, um…” she trailed off. How much should I tell them? Not a lot, but how much of not a lot? “We were, me and my friends, were trying to stop a gang leader. He didn’t like that.”
“OK, that’s consistent with the reports we have.”
“The feral, the other feral, was trying to kill a friend.”
“OK.”
“And the last one, um, I… I got angry. Really angry and messed up. I didn’t… didn’t mean to.”
“Angry?” asked Dabrowski.
Olivia stayed quiet for a moment. Can I even explain the weird brain thing? “Yeah,” she answered. “Not at the man, the alien.”
“You fell in with a bad crowd,” murmured Dabrowski. What? They’re my friends. They didn’t shoot at me. “Would you, knowing what you do now, have done the same?”
“No! No, of course not,” said Olivia. In the silence that followed, she added, “Please don’t dissect me.”
“What, do you think we work for Overlord or something?” responded Dabrowski as she stood along with Grey. “No, of course we’re not going to dissect you. I’ll grab Mr. Walker, he’ll want to speak with you as well.”
Stone Burners 