Once A Wolf Ch. 07

The Fourth Afternoon

On the way back to the cave, her mind was ablaze. The first, best choice was surgery. Of course, that wasn’t an option. Even if the Arcturans would allow her a field-hospital-quality surgical set-up, she had never done anythingthisextensive. This would require a full-fledged trauma team. She wasn’t about to let him die, whatever the Arcturans might find ‘entertaining’. That left one other option.

She lay him face-down on the ledge next to the waterfall and pulled the rest of the arrow out of his torso. The bleeding was steady, not arterial. They were lucky in that respect. There was an ample supply of the latest liquid bandage material in the medical kit. It was waterproof, which was exactly what she would need now. She applied it liberally to both wounds. While she was waiting for it to set, she withdrew the hypodermic, rubber tube, bandage strip and sterile swipes from the med kit. She looked down at her forearm, still not believing she was going to go through with this.

Giselle tied off her bicep with the tube, swabbed the inside of her elbow, selected a good vein and inserted the needle. She drew off two CC’s, then applied the bandage strip over the puncture. She upended the syringe, tapped it a couple of times to dislodge any air bubbles, then slowly eased the plunger up until the blood beaded at the tip. Capping it, she repeated the procedure of finding a vein on Geoff’s arm.

Giselle picked up the hypodermic once more and uncapped it. She stared at the syringe of what could only be described as pure poison, then at Geoff’s unconscious form. His life was on the line; it wasthisor certain death. She sighed deeply, realizing there might not be a difference. “God forgive me,” she muttered. Then, she injected him. After applying liquid bandage to the tiny puncture wound. She eased his body into the frigid waters of the pool under the waterfall. Making certain his face would not slip beneath the surface, she sat down on the ledge next to him – and waited for the ordeal to begin.

His forehead was warm to the touch within ten minutes.So quickly! That couldn’t be a good sign. She would have no idea how high the fever would run, but…. The digital thermometer materialized on the ledge next to her right hand.The Arcturans! Bless their black little hearts. They couldn’t have any idea what she was doing to him, but they had seen her repeatedly feeling his forehead and were playing the perfect little Yuppie facilitators. They must be loving this; the helpless female’s last, desperate, feeble attempt to save her mate.Laugh it up, Furballs. You will be choking on it soon enough.The thermometer already read one-oh-one-point-two. Oh, if only it would stop there!She knew better than that. This was only the beginning.

After one hour, the thermometer read one-oh-three-point-three. Geoff was going up like a five-alarm-fire. She hoped the chilled pool would be enough to hold him together. Giselle herself had topped off at one-oh-six-point-five, butshehad been packed in ice. Ice? Well, why not? She dragged him out of the pool and onto the ledge.

“Hydrogen Oxide, zero degrees Celsius, two hundred kilograms in one-point-two-five centimeter cubes.”

Never let it be said the Arcturans didn’t appreciate a good joke. The mountain of ice appeared on the ledge next to Geoff’s inert form. She started shoving the cubes over him

Eight hours in. He was at one-oh-six-point-six.Stay calm, Giselle. Brain damage doesn’t begin until one-oh-seven-point-six. She had already replenished the ice once and would continue doing so as long as the Arcturans would give it to her. She sang to him. She recited poetry: Keats, Dickenson, Shelley, Elizabeth and Robert Browning, and her personal favorite, Robert Frost.

Two roads diverged in the yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as long as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth….

Fourteen hours. One-oh-seven-point-two. She remembered the reports. Swifty Pike had tried so hard to keep the wording clinical, unemotional. Thirty-six attempts. Thirty-six catastrophic failures. Thirty-six brave volunteers. Soldiers. Marines. A couple of SEALs. All gone. The process had required anywhere from forty-eight to seventy-two hours to run its course. Each had spiked between one-oh-nine and one-thirteen. Thirty-two had died outright.Crispy Critters. They had been the lucky ones. The other four had survived the transition – at least, theirbodieshad. Swifty Pike was one of the most decent human beings it had ever been her privilege to meet. He had ordered the four euthanized. All thirty-six had been autopsied, of course, then buried with full military honors.

Sheknew how to make it work. Despite her credentials, the others were disinclined to follow her recommendations. So, she had worked alone – and became Number Thirty-Seven. General Pike told her later he had almost stroked out when he found her on the lab floor with the syringe still in her hand. But she had been different;waydifferent. She was way outside the testing parameters. Her numbers had been way different too; nowhere near the other thirty-six. In the end, she had been different in the only respect that really mattered; eighteen hours in, she woke up intact.

Eighteen hours. One-oh-seven-point-four.The spike was slowing!That had to behopeful, wasn’t it? Geoff’s case was different, too. He had been spared the full wrath of the serum itself, having received her antibodies instead. That hadto make a difference! She talked to him. She told him of her childhood, the glories of her misspent, misbegotten, over-the-top youth. She told him of the Proms she had never attended, the romances she had never had, the relationships that never were, all because she had wanted tobe somebody – who, in the end, she wasn’t.

She begged him, pleaded with him, promised she would be his “Queen, consort, or concubine, however he would have her”, fuck his brains out every day of her life and count herselfblessedfor the opportunity, just please, please,don’t give up on her!She had a gnawing pain in the pit of her stomach she was going to lose him. Without him there to hold her, she already felt so alone.

Twenty-two hours. She had been awake the past thirty-four. Fatigue, anxiety, and stress had taken their toll. Her vision was swimming. She had long since run out of intelligent things to say. Now she was reduced to nursery rhymes and limericks.

There once was a man from Nantucket….

She glanced again at the thermometer for the… thousandth?… ten-thousandth time? She couldn’t even focus on the digital readout anymore. She blinked several times, trying to force her eyes to tear. Finally, her vision settled down enough to make out the numbers: one-oh-seven-point…four?She shook her head. She must be delirious. She looked again. One-oh-seven-point-four.Don’t get cocky, Giselle! It could be a plateau. The others went three times as long. For the second time that day – twice more than in the past four decades - Giselle René Du Mont prayed.

Twenty-three hours. She was on auto-pilot now. She was sitting cross-legged on the ledge, his head in her lap. She was stroking his fevered forehead with one hand, just looking, hoping for the best, fearing the worst. She looked again at the thermometer, her best friend and worst enemy in this or any other lifetime.

One-oh-seven-point-two!

She started rocking back and forth, big, fat, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.Thank you, God! Thank you!She hoped God reallywouldforgive her for pretending to be Him. She looked down at Geoffrey’s comatose form.

“Welcome toProject Lorelei, My Love. The Few. The Proud. The Damned.”

She hoped, one day,he would find it in his heart to forgive her, too. That would have to wait. They weren’t out of the woods, yet. He still had towake up.She gently lay his head down on the ledge, then stretched out next to him. She was asleep in moments, holding his hand.

Geoffrey opened his eyes in the late evening of the fifth day. Though sound asleep, Giselle felt his hand flick and awoke with a start. She sat up, lifted his head into her lap, and began stroking his forehead. His fever had gone down dramatically. She had to find out if the fever had caused any impairment.

“Hi, Tiger. How are you feeling?”

“Better than you look. Giselle, you are amess!”

“I love you, too. Geoffrey, be a dear and tell me the square root of eighty-one.”

“Excuse me?”

“The square root of eighty-one, Geoffrey. Surely you know it.”

“Of course I do. It’s… nine. So what?”

“So what, indeed. What is the capital of Zaire?”

“Uh,Kinshasa, and haven’t they gone back to calling it the Republic of Congo?”

“They have, indeed. Now, listen carefully:
At the hole where he went in
Red-eye called to Wrinkle-skin.
Hear what little Red-eye saith:
Finish it, Geoffrey.”

“Huh?”

“Finish the quote, Geoffrey.”

“I can’t.”

Giselle slipped her hands through the remains of the ice and gripped his shoulders tightly.

“This is important, Geoffrey. Kipling.Rikki Tikki Tavi. Finish the quote.”

“I just told you, I can’t.”

Her heart sank. They had beenso close. He sounded normal enough. How extensivewas the damage?

“Please try, just for me.”

“Giselle, I really don’t know what this is all about and Ireallyhate to disappoint you, but I never memorizedRikki Tikki Tavi. I thought I was doing well with Robert Frost.Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both….”

He couldn’t fathom how reciting poetry – American poetry at that – would make her laugh and cry at the same time. He really didn’t think he would ever understand her.

“Erm, Giselle? Why am I lying in a puddle of ice water? It’s…a little cold.”

She cleared away the remaining ice and helped him slowly to his feet. He would be disoriented and weak as a kitten; she knew that. She looked…up into his eyes. As nearly as she could estimate, Geoff was about three inches taller anda lot broader. He wasn’t bulky; he was really toned, well-defined, like a decathlete. Back in California, they would call himripped. There wasn’t a hint of what had previously been the near-mortal wound; not even a scar.That was Lorelei for you; better things for better living through biochemistry.

“Wow,” she gasped.

He followed the direction of her eyes to his physique – and couldn’t believe his own eyes.

“Wow,” he choked. “Giselle, whathappenedto me? We were in the forest, escaping the Golganthans. I felt this incredibly sharp, burning pain right here, then I blacked out. I don’t even remember returning to the cave, much less the Grotto. Now this. And I still have so many questions about you, too. I don’t wish to sound paranoid, but….”

Giselle pressed one hand softly to his lips.

“My Love, I owe you so much more than answers, but not here, not now. I’m famished and I’m fairly certain you could eat a horse about now.”

“Well, since you mention it…yes,” he admitted.

Giselle helped him with his shower, taking it slowly. He rinsed off, then swam a bit to stretch his muscles at her direction. After toweling him off, she helped him up the stairs. A just-requisitioned set of fatigues awaited him, sized for his changed dimensions.

“The Praetor has been generous in our clothing allowance,” Giselle cooed. “I thought it might be nice to ‘dress’ for dinner; something clean, at least. Now, if I could impose upon you, I will ask you to get started on dinner while I shower. Prepare more than one for yourself. Your body needs the nourishment right now. I know, it’s the same old ‘TV dinners’, but I’ll see if I can add a little pizzazz to it. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Why couldn’t you have just showered and dressed with me?” he inquired.

She pursed her lips and smiled coquettishly.

“Indulge me.”

*****

He smelled her essence before she appeared. He hadn’t really been aware that he knew the scent of her so well. Something new had been added to the mix.Perfume?

“Geoffrey?”

He turned – and gasped at the sight of her. The deep-blue gown fit her like a second skin. It had a halter neck, deeply plunging front, and no back above her lower ribs. The gown accentuated the tuck of her tiny waist and sweep of her full, flaring hips and bum. The skirt then swept straight to the floor. The long front slit showed glimpses of her stockinged legs and high-heel-sandal-shod feet. A multi-tiered diamond-and-sapphire necklace encircled her throat. It was accentuated by matching pendant earrings and a multi-stranded bracelet on her left wrist. Her upswept hair and makeup could have come from the cover ofVogue.

She came to him and rested her right hand lightly on his shoulder. She gently cupped his slack jaw in her left hand and closed it. Then, the vision stepped back and twirled around for his inspection.

“Will I do?” she asked demurely.

“You didn’t tell me this would be a black tie affair,” Geoff chided. “I feel underdressed.”

“Not yet,” Giselle cooed. “That comes later.”

It took Geoff a minute to collect his senses. He was able to form a one-word question.

“How?”

Giselle’s smile widened a notch.

“When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping – with a little help from our Arcturan hosts. The Praetor confirmed my initial assessment of this tournament was correct. At this moment, the Arcturans are getting into this as much asyou.”

“What about…?”, Geoff began, pointing at the brilliant gems at her ears and throat. Giselle smiled coquettishly.

“Oh, Honey, it don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got thatbling. Doo-wop-doo-wop-doo-wop.”

“Excuse me?”

Giselle giggled.

“Nothing. Just another of my archaic references. Judging from the boxes, I would say Harry Winston is going to be screaming Bloody Murder any time now. I haven’t done the ‘star turn’ in a while and I couldn’t think of anyone I would rather do it for. It’s not…too much,is it? I could always change back into my fatigues.”

“DON’T YOU DARE, GISELLE DU MONT!”

The eight-hundred-pound gorilla found his voice and manners at last. He stepped next to her and offered his arm.

“I decided earlier we shall dine al frescothis evening. Our table awaits.”

Giselle slipped her arm through his.

“Yes, Milord. As you command.”

Their ‘table’ was a large flat-topped rock outside the cave entrance. Two smaller flanking rocks served as ‘chairs’. The cuisine was Spartan at best, but the company never noticed. A few minutes into the meal, Giselle excused herself from her host, begging that she had forgotten the ‘pizzazz’ she had promised earlier. Geoffrey stared at her incredulously.

“There ismore?”

She smiled, winked, then disappeared into the cave. The platinum-tressed heartthrob returning ten minutes later, a wide smile on her lips.

“Time to drop the Big One,” she murmured.

She delicately laid the aluminum cylinder on the table between their place settings. Geoff was in complete shock.

“Here? NOW? How do we….”

The fabulous blonde shushed him, held the cylinder’s middle with one hand and unscrewed an end with the other. After removing the cap, she tilted the cylinder, removed its contents, and handed it to her host.

“Would Milord do the honors?” she inquired.

At that point, Geoffrey would not at all have been shocked if the bottle had been labeled : Plutonium – Handle With Extreme Care. Instead, it read:

Comtes de Champagne Taittinger 1992
Brut ChampagneBlanc de Blancs

He stared at Giselle, a smirk on his face.

“The most destructive force known to Humankind?”

She shrugged her shoulders a little bit and smiled demurely.

“Self-indulgence. Not exactly what the doctor would order right now, but he doesn’t make cave calls.”

She unscrewed the cylinder’s other end and extracted two cut crystal flutes.

“Araglin by Waterford,” she observed. I don’t have many nice things, but this seemed to be the right occasion for these. I try to plan foranycontingency.”

Geoffrey simply shook his head in disbelief and uncorked the champagne.

They dined under the stars in the middle of a war zone and cared for nothing but each other and the moment. There were many questions to ask and be answered, but neither was willing to shatter the mood by bringing them up. When they had eaten their fill, they simply held hands, sipped champagne, stared into each other’s eyes and made small talk, as lovers and those soon to be have always done. At last, Geoff had to express what was on his mind.

“Giselle, this has been the most amazing evening of the most amazing five days of my life. There are so many questions I would like to ask….”

She steeled herself for what would come next.

“… butwon’t, owing to certain exigencies we have already discussed.”

He cast his eyes upwards. She silently mouthed the words “Thank you.”

“I know something happened to me yesterday, and I believe it was something bad. But I am here, alive, and healthier than I have ever been before….”

“Here, here,” Giselle cooed, and clinked her flute against his.

“… and I know I have you to thank once again,” he continued. “There is something I need to know. This tournament will not last forever – and wewillwin it. What will become of us?”

“Us?” she inquired.

“Yes, as in ‘you and me’,” he confirmed. “I want very much for there to be an ‘us’. I can’t bear the thought of you walking out of my life and disappearing forever.”

She swallowed hard.

“I want that more than words can express,” she admitted. “Having said that, I don’t think it can ever happen.”

“Why not?” he inquired, astonished.

Geoffrey, if your name was Joe Grabowski and you were a plumber from the northwest side of Chicago, no one wouldcarewhom you took up with – except perhaps Mother Grabowski. No girl would be good enough for her little boy.

“The point is, you arenotJoe Grabowski, and there are people whocare very muchwhom you bring home to ‘meet the folks’. They believe it is their God-given duty to ‘assist’ you in choosing the right girl. She will be investigated, analyzed, scrutinized, sanitized, and vetted at sixteen different levels. Once married, she will be expected to bear you an heir and a spare, then fade back into the woodwork, to be trotted out on all the appropriate state occasions and photo ops.

“Can you seeme passingany of those tests? Can you honestly see themaccepting me? I am an American, commoner, soldier and spy – and that is just thetip of the iceberg. Yes, I am housebroken, can carry an intelligent conversation and know which fork to use, but as to the rest…. We have been together five days. Youstill really don’t know anything about me. By the time we get home, you may not want to.”

“Just tell me you don’t want me and I will leave it alone, “ Geoff replied softly. Giselle’s eyes teared anew.

“I can’t do that, either. I have already told you I want you very much – more than I have wanted anything in this life or any other.”

“Then we shall find a way to make this work,” he avowed. “As for the Palace, we will just have to work on them. After all, Iam the ‘eight-hundred-pound gorilla’.”

“This would take a thousand-poundgorilla.”

“I will make this work if I have to go directly my grandparents and plead your case.”