When I fully turn my head, I notice the doctor has something tucked under his arm. I think it’s a blanket. My heart rate picks up at the thought of being given something so coveted.
As soon as one of the guards opens the cage, the doctor pulls the blanket out from under his elbow. My excitement is short-lived, though, because the guard snatches the soft-looking material from the medic and barks at him in that language I don’t understand.
The doctor rolls his eyes and sighs.
The guard shouts several more things, pointing between me, the medic, and the blanket.
Shockingly, I believe I understand. He told the doctor to check me out before he would let me have the gift of warmth. I don’t know why these men have to be so cruel. It’s not as though I could overpower any of them. They’re well over seven feet tall and proportionately larger than any human being I know of.
It’s true that I’ve never seen a human male in person. I was raised with only females, but I know from my studies that human men were about six feet tall. These Venkorians are giants.
Mortified to have wet myself, I try to pull my legs together and tug my dress down as far as possible.
The doctor lifts his brows as he holds up the stethoscope.
I nod, understanding, and he sets it on my chest over my dress. As he moves it around to several different locations, he says nothing.
Staring at him, I wait until he’s done before saying, “Can you understand me?”
He frowns. That’s a no. He holds something else against my forehead. A second later, it beeps. I think he took my temperature. The furrow in his brow is deeper as he turns toward the guard with the blanket and holds the device out. He points at the readout, his voice demanding.
I don’t understand. I don’t think I have a fever. In fact, I’m so cold that I suspect, if anything, my body temperature is too low. Maybe that’s what the medic told the guard.
I’ve never been more relieved when the doctor snatches the blanket from the guard. He hands it to me, replaces the empty bottle with a full one, and sets a clean diaper inside the entrance.
With a slightly sympathetic glance, he turns and stomps from the room.
I flinch as my cage is once again locked, and I’m left alone.
My situation has improved. I have a warm cover, a fresh diaper, and more nutrition. At least it doesn’t seem that these Venkorians intend to let me die.
THREE
Days pass. I don’t know how many because I have no way to know the passage of time. I’m so lonely. The only things I’ve done are stare at the bars above me, drink bottles, pee myself, and sleep.
Well, that’s not all, of course. Sometimes I do more than pee, and the guards hand me wipes and walk away. It’s very difficult to clean myself up since I can’t sit up. I manage. It’s gross. And it pisses me off.
I’m lethargic. I don’t bother to talk to the guards anymore. I don’t even look at them directly, and I’m grateful they don’t require it. The doctor doesn’t return. It’s just a series of guards. If I assume they’re working in three shifts per day, I’ve been here three days—longer if I count the time before I woke up, nauseous.
When I hear the door opening, I don’t even flinch. I’m used to it. I could predict almost exactly when it will happen. I don’t look in that direction. I don’t need to. It’s always the same thing. A boring routine that’s driving me out of my mind.
As usual, my cage opens, but this time, instead of swapping out my used diaper and bottle for new ones, a hand settles overmy stomach, making my breath hitch. I turn my head to find someone new facing me. For the first time since I woke up, the person doesn’t look like they want to murder me.
The hand is warm and comforting. His face is kind. He’s smiling.
When I inhale, I draw in his scent. It’s enticing.
I’m wrapped up like a burrito in the blanket, so he’s not touching my skin, but my entire body settles as if he’s got magic powers. Peace fills me. I stop shivering and stare at him, unable to blink.
He speaks in a soft voice, though I can’t understand him.
After a few moments, he leans in farther, wraps his hands around me, and slides me out of the cage and into his arms.
I let him. I can’t stop him. I should be freaking out. The cage is awful, but the unknown might be worse. Rava and Lyra were taken from this room, screaming.
All I manage is a whimper as the man cradles me in his arms, cups my head, and presses my cheek against his shoulder.
I’m marginally aware of two guards flanking us as the new man carries me from the warehouse. He smells so good. I have no experience being this close to a man, not even the Venkorian guards. I assume someone must have manhandled me into the cage, but I wasn’t conscious at the time.
