Heart of an Orc

  Chapter One

  Louisa

  I frowned into the mirror as I slowly ran the straightener through my hair for the second time that morning. Of course my first day at my new job had to coincide with the most humid day of the year. Because nothing made a great first impression like uncontrollable frizz, right?

  “Lou, sweetie,” my mom’s voice filtered up from downstairs. “You’re going to miss breakfast if you don’t hurry. You don’t want to start off your first day on an empty stomach, do you?”

  “Coming,” I called back, finally giving up my battle to tame the frizz, and quickly brushing the whole mess back into a low ponytail instead.

  There.

  It wasn’t exactly the sleek, sophisticated look I would have preferred, but it would at least keep the hair out of my face and off my mind while I tried to get through the day.

  At least the color-block dress I’d bought for the occasion still looked just as cute as I remembered from the fitting room, so I was definitely counting that as a win. I smoothed a hand down the front of the fabric and smiled to myself as I pictured the little bursts of color peeking out from underneath a crisp, white lab coat.

  Perfect.

  With my hair and outfit as good as they were going to get, I hurried around the room to clear away the two other dresses and three pairs of colored tights I’d laid out as backups, then made the bed, since my fiancé, Sebastian, had thoughtfully left that for me to take care of as well.

  I bit back an annoyed sigh and channeled some of my mom’s eternal patience. Just get it done. He’s probably upset that you’re starting a new job while he’s spent months looking for work.

  Never mind that it was sort of hard to look for work while playing video games and eating junk food all day, but we all dealt with stress in different ways. He was probably really productive when I wasn’t around.

  Maybe.

  “Lou? Sweetie, you’re going to have to settle for a bowl of cereal if you don’t hurry. Sebastian has already eaten half of your eggs…”

  I wasn’t surprised. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time.

  By the time I got downstairs a couple of minutes later, my fiancé was just finishing the rest of my eggs. “Left you the bacon and toast,” he said, barely looking over at me as I sat down next to him.

  “Half her toast,” my mom amended with a sigh. “Do you want me to scramble a couple more eggs, Lou?”

  “I’ll be fine, Mom, but thank you.”

  Honestly? I wasn’t even upset. Sure, I was missing the main part of my breakfast, but it felt petty to dwell on that while my mom was clearly having such a good start to the day. She was alert and present. She remembered my name, and Sebastian’s, too. She had even cooked a full breakfast for the first time in ages. Nobody would have ever known she was suffering more and more from early-onset Alzheimer’s.

  My mom beamed from across the table. “I’m so proud of you, Lou-Lou. Remember when you were little, and I used to tell you there was nothing you couldn’t accomplish if you set your mind to it?”

  I nodded and smiled to myself. It was one of her favorite expressions. She really did use to say it all the time. Back in high school, when I’d stress about making good grades. In college, when it felt like I might never finish my Biochemistry degree. Heck, she’d said it to me last week, when I was worried about accepting the job offer.

  “I do remember, Mom. And you were right every time.”

  Sebastian grunted. “Maybe you should wait to celebrate when you’ve actually accomplished something.” He reached over to grab the piece of toast that was still left on my plate but thought better of it when he saw me frown. “I’m just saying, Lou. It’s only your first day. I’m sure you’ll accomplish plenty while you’re there.”

  If only he’d sounded even a little bit sincere. That was classic Sebastian, though. He called it constructive criticism and tough love, but most of the time it felt like he was just being rude.

  No relationship was perfect, though. Right? I’d had plenty of friends over the years who’d seemed to have story book, fairy tale, Prince Charming-level boyfriends and husbands, only to find out they’d lied, or cheated, or done lord-only-knew what in the end. The worst thing I could say about Sebastian was that he could be a little insensitive at times. And maybe a little unmotivated. And okay, sometimes sort of thoughtless – like eating my breakfast right before I had to leave for my first day at a new job.

  Still, it wasn’t like it said in the Ten Commandments “thou shalt not eat your bride-to-be’s eggs”. Getting upset about it would have only made it worse. In my head, I could already hear him say that I’d overreacted and made a mountain of a mole hill again.

  I took a half-hearted bite of my toast and washed it down with the glass of orange juice my mom had poured for me, then stood up from the table.

  “Sorry to eat and run, but I really have to go.” I glanced from my mom’s face to Sebastian and back again. “Please call me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.”

  “We’ll be fine, sweetie.” Mom waved a dismissive hand. “I might go grocery shopping in a bit, and Sebastian will be here if I need anything.”

  He didn’t even acknowledge that either of us had spoken until I cleared my throat. “You’ll go with her if she needs to go to the store, right?”

  For a moment, I wondered if he might refuse. He knew how I felt about my mom leaving the house on her own, no matter if she was having a good day or not.

  “I guess, yeah,” he scowled. “But we might just stay home instead. You can pick up something for dinner on your way home from work.”

  “Sure,” I said, unwilling to argue about it. I didn’t want to seem selfish, and if it meant that my mom could relax for the day, then… fine. Great. That was worth some compromising on my part. “I’ll call you when I’m done for the day.”

  I walked over to give my mom a quick hug, waved goodbye to Sebastian, and hurried out the door without another word.

  “I know he loves me,” I whispered under my breath as I walked to my car. “But sometimes…”

  Sometimes it was hard to tell.

  There.

  I had never said it out loud, not even to myself, but that was the truth. It was something we could work on, though. Something we could fix with some patience and understanding. And probably a whole lot of counseling.

  Whatever it took, I desperately wanted things to get better. Soon. Really soon.

  * * *

  There was a knot in my stomach, and my palms were unreasonably sweaty as I sat in the tiny office that might have been a broom closet at some point in the not-so-distant past and filled out the mountain of paperwork that had been laid out on the table in front of me.

  It was the start of my first day of work, but it felt more like I was signing my life away bit by bit, form by excruciatingly dull form. I began by reading everything, even the fine print, front and back. This level of attentiveness only lasted about five minutes before my eyes started to cross. After that, I mostly just looked at the names of the forms and signed in what I hoped were the correct places. By the time my boss’s assistant poked his head back into the room, my hand had cramped, my foot had fallen asleep, and I had to squint out of one eye to keep everything from going blurry.

  “All finished, Louisa?” His too-loud, too-cheerful voice was completely at odds with our stark surroundings. Still, it was nice to know I hadn’t been locked away in some sort of office-themed purgatory for the rest of eternity, so I wasn’t going to complain.

  “I think I have one more piece of paper to sign after this one,” I answered, doing my best to flash a pleasant smile. “Should only take me a minute.”

  “And you signed the non-disclosure agreement as well? Did you read it thoroughly?”

  “I, um… yes?” I thumbed through the stack of papers as I tried to remember something – anything – about the form in question. “I’m sure I read it. Just the standard non-disclosure stuff, right?”

  “Well,” he gave me a sheepish look. I didn’t know how long he’d been working here, but he had to remember how tedious this mountain of paperwork was. “There are a few parts that aren’t very standard at all. The nature of our work requires a level of discretion that isn’t very common in the outside world. Maybe you should take another look before we continue?”

  Oh, God. Please, no.

  No more paperwork. No more tiny janitor’s closet. Not on my first day. I wanted to point out that my job wasn’t important enough to warrant that much attention. I was going to be cataloging and analyzing asteroid samples, and space dust and whatnot, for goodness’s sake. Who were they worried I would spill all my boring secrets to? Who would even want to know about that stuff?

  “I’m good,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. I’d already agreed to whatever was included on that form anyway. How bad could it be? “So, what’s next on the agenda?”

  Was it too early for lunch? Would it have been rude to check my phone? I hadn’t been away from my mom for so many hours in a row since I graduated from college a few months ago, and I honestly had my doubts about leaving her with Sebastian for the entire day.

  “Well, if you’re absolutely certain you’re ready, I can take you to have the universal language implant installed, then you’ll be all set to meet with Dr. Walsh.”

  The… what now?

  Maybe I should have read that fine print after all. No time for that anymore. Within seconds, he gathered up the paperwork and ushered me out of the claustrophob
ic space and down another dull white corridor where I would hopefully find out more about the universal language… whatever it was called.

  “Here we are,” he abruptly turned to the left and pushed open a door for me. “I’ll be back to get you in a few minutes. You’ll be in good hands until then.”

  I wanted to ask what he meant. Whose hands? What was going to happen to me? But when I opened my mouth, no words came out. My throat closed up, and all I could do was give him a shaky, nervous nod as he nudged me into a small room with a large, padded chair and a bored-looking lab technician. The whole scene was vaguely reminiscent of my dentist’s office. Or maybe a weird horror movie.

  “Louisa Temple?” the woman asked, then continued before I silently nodded to confirm my identity. “Have a seat in that chair and turn your head to the left. I’ll administer a local anesthetic and then we’ll begin the procedure.”

  Okay, that was enough to make me find my voice. “The p-procedure? I don’t really know if I…”

  “Yes, the procedure,” she interrupted, gesturing toward the chair. “The universal language implant? Please don’t tell me they forgot to have you sign the waiver…”

  “N-no,” I shook my head. “I mean, yes. I signed it.” I had no idea what was going to happen, but I didn’t want to cause any trouble, or worse, get one of my new co-workers in trouble on my very first day. “Sorry, I’m just…” I swallowed hard and moved over to the chair before my wobbly legs gave out. “I’m ready. Which way do I turn again?”

  “To the left.” She waited until I sat down and turned my head, before picking up a syringe with a terrifyingly long needle that made my stomach do a full backflip. Lord, I was going to pass out before she gave me my universal… whatever she’d called it. Then again, maybe I didn’t want to be conscious and coherent for the procedure. “Okay, Louisa. You’re going to feel a slight prick at the base of your skull.”

  That was the only warning I received. She’d moved behind the chair, so she was out of my sight, but I could feel her leaning in, could feel her hand holding my head steady. I closed my eyes and held my breath as she jabbed me with the needle.

  “Now,” she continued, “I need you to count backwards from ten while we wait for the anesthetic to kick in.”

  Ten? As in… ten seconds? That wasn’t enough time. It had already been at least three seconds and I didn’t feel any different. All I could do was count slowly and hope for the best. “Ten… nine… eight… seven…”

  I kept counting until I got to one, but I wasn’t sure the medicine had taken effect. And I was too worried about getting on the grumpy lab technician’s bad side to object with more than a quiet whimper when I felt something press against the back of my ear. There was a moment of intense pressure and a slight pinching feeling, and then… it was over.

  “All done,” she said, walking away and leaving me feeling slightly dazed in the chair.

  I couldn’t feel anything above my neck, and my head seemed to be about fifteen pounds heavier as I gingerly pushed myself upright. I was terrified to reach up and touch my ear, even though the suspense of not knowing what I might find there was driving me crazy.

  I turned toward the door in time to see the assistant from earlier step into the room just as the lab technician left with a terrifyingly large drill in her hands. A drill? Had she used that on me? Probably best if I didn’t know for sure.

  “Love the new accessory,” the assistant said with a grin. At least he seemed nice. Kind of like a golden retriever. “If you’ll follow me, Dr. Walsh is ready to see you now.”

  “Okay,” I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding and followed him out into the corridor again. “Is this all… normal? For a person’s first day, I mean?”

  He shrugged and glanced back over his shoulder at me. “Depends on the position. And the employee, I guess. But yeah, I’d say everything has been pretty standard so far.”

  It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but it made me feel a little better knowing that other people had been through the same thing I’d just experienced. Enough times that it was considered to be standard. So that had to be a good sign, right?

  We stopped in front of a door with Dr. Glenn Walsh’s name printed on a small, tarnished name plate.

  “Go ahead and go inside,” the assistant nodded. “Dr. Walsh will be expecting you.”

  I shot him an apprehensive look as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. A middle-aged man looked up from his desk and gave me a slow up-and-down look that seemed to linger on every flaw and imperfection from my head to my toes.

  “You must be my new lab assistant.” He folded his arms across his ample belly and heaved a long, loud sigh. “Biochemistry degree, hm?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” I nodded. “Louisa Temple, but everyone calls me Lou. I just graduated last May, and I’m so grateful for the opportunity to work here. My professor…”

  “Yes, yes,” he made a dismissive gesture. “I know your story. I’ve seen the background check. I’ve talked to your professor. You’re only here because I owed him a favor.”

  I didn’t know what to say. But after everything else I’d been through this morning, I probably should have expected it. My new boss was angry, rude, super intimidating, and staring at me like I was the most annoying, insignificant person he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting.

  “I’m… sorry?” Was I apologizing for existing? Taking up space in his office? I wasn’t sure it mattered. “I really am looking forward to working here, though. I want you to know I’ll do everything I can to, um, do a good job at whatever it is we do here.”

  Oh, God. I was pretty sure I’d just made things worse.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said, standing up and crossing the room to stand in front of me. “Do you believe we’re alone in the universe?”

  I blinked. “You and me?”

  “Remind me not to do another favor for Professor Roberts ever again.” He gave me another appraising look and shook his head. “But no. I wasn’t talking about you and me. I was referring to humanity. Mankind. Do you think humans are the only intelligent, sentient beings in the universe?”

  It was a test. A trick question. I could tell by the way he was looking at me – just waiting for me to give the wrong answer.

  “I’ve never seen any conclusive evidence that suggests otherwise,” I answered, carefully avoiding a simple yes or no. “But I’d certainly be open to the possibility.”

  Dr. Walsh gave a half-shrug. “Doesn’t really matter whether you’re open to it or not. Follow me.”

  He started walking toward an unmarked metal door at the far end of the room, leaving me to hurry after him. Did I pass the test? Was that why he’d made that strange, snippy comment?

  After punching a code into the keypad near the door, he slid it open with a loud clang, then motioned for me to follow him.

  “The door will close and lock behind us. Don’t be alarmed, and try not to show any fear.”

  I blinked. Try not to show any fear? What did that even mean? Was there a pack of wolves waiting in there to tear us apart?

  I tried to push those thoughts aside and schooled my features into what I hoped was a neutral, fearless expression, even though every gut instinct I had was screaming at me to turn and run the other way.

  The lights automatically flickered to life as we stepped inside the secure room, and the first thing I noticed was the floor to ceiling glass wall directly across from us.

  “Shatterproof glass,” the doctor commented, making a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole area. “It’s reinforced with an electrified mesh to keep the specimen from getting too close.”

  “The… specimen?”

  My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and I was afraid for a moment that I might pass out or throw up – or maybe both – as I cautiously peered into the holding cell. There wasn’t much to see. Just a rumpled blanket and thin pillow on the floor, in front of a sink and a small, curtained area that gave an absolute minimal amount of privacy for the toilet. But no signs of life that I could see. No pack of rabid wolves. No specimen.

  Dr. Walsh’s mouth turned up into a smug smirk as he nodded toward the corner of the holding pen. “There. In the corner.”

  There was a small sliver of space where the overhead lights didn’t reach. A block of shadow that was no more than three or four feet across and deep. I squinted and peered into that dark corner, but still didn’t see anything at first.