This time Liam waited by the Mnemosyne with a rolled-up blanket. He shook it to its full length, and draped Volya head to toe, like a parent cocoons a child after bath time. Except, when Liam folded out the corner to put the cross on Volya, Volya's body filled with grown-up lust. He lowered his head, chin nearly touching his clavicle. The cross looked the same, but the metal felt warmer against his skin than he expected.
His perplexed, slightly cross-eyed expression didn't escape Sangha.
"There, are you happy, Renato? The boy is traumatized. Absolutely traumatized." Sangha jabbed an accusing digit at daSilva, at Lydia, at Volya, and in every direction. She sounded livid, and no wonder! He was so sapped of strength, he barely kept from drooling and probably looked worse.
DaSilva rumbled some objections, though not without an anxious quiver in his voice. "We don't know it. The adjustment to the time-space differential takes a few seconds."
Lydia tightened her shawl over her shoulders—the woman must have had a wardrobe just for shawls—watching him with rapt eyes, like he was the only living being left on Earth. Desperation and hope swept over her face, neither taking root for long.
"I'm fine," Volya said, "just let me dress, please. Please?"
Lydia ushered Renato and Liam out. Sangha stayed, keeping a penetrating stare on him. To be honest, it was comforting. But to keep on form, he muttered how a man couldn't get a lick of privacy, and how he was totally fine.
Sangha did the usual work-up before letting him outside of the trailer. By then, the night had fallen in the modern world as well.
The expedition had a generator, so they had all the electricity they needed to power the technology and work comfortably. Despite that, the heart of the camp was the firepit next to the kitchen. The pine logs burned merrily, scenting the air with sap. The expelled moisture hissed as it dripped down from the logs onto the coals. The sparks tore away from the fire and flew into the sky. The smoke curled with every shift of the breeze.
It is to the firepit that Volya came to make his report, after fortifying himself with Sangha's miraculous cocktail. For his story, this setting seemed more fitting than a crowded room of a trailer.
He looked from person to person, illuminated by the warm glow. Their clothes were made from new materials, but in the dancing firelight they didn't look that much different from the rough-span fabrics. The faces were free of paint (except for Lydia's of course) but the shadows made up for it.
Volya was startled by how little human nature had changed over the millennia. Toss a group of strangers into the wilderness—and they would huddle around the fire, nudged closer by the encroaching darkness.
Sometimes, they crowded together too close for comfort. Despite her earlier protests, Marina held Liam's guitar in her lap, with Damir sprawled by her feet. He had a sheepish grin on his face, despite how crappy her plucking of the strings sounded. She smiled dreamily.
Volya froze, unsure if he should take an empty folding chair next to Damir. Bursting the couple's rainbow bubble seemed cruel. They would do it to themselves in a short order.
"I saved a space for you," Liam called softly. He waved at Volya from a padded mat strewn on the grass. Volya plopped down. This simple action had the effect of sending up a flare. Everyone on the team dropped whatever they were doing and called out their questions.
Volya closed his eyes at the onslaught of scientific curiosity. "Give me a moment to collect my thoughts, please. I'll tell you everything."
Liam's arm slipped around his waistline, gentle yet steadying. Liam's breath, as warm as the night's air, but scented by a foreign smell of his chewing gum, tickled Volya's temple. It would have been sweet to rest his head on Liam's shoulder, touch him...
But all those people had questions. Volya had to answer them or Sangha would have a fit and lock him out of the Mnemosyne.
Instinctively, Volya squeezed the cross around his neck—and the answer to his earlier question became obvious. The cross was so warm before, because Liam cradled it in the jeans' pocket, fingered it to steady his nerves, while waiting for Volya to emerge.
Silver jamming into Volya's skin brought the world into focus. His chest expanded, drawing in the fulsome breath he needed-.
Another big breath in.
And another.
Sangha gave him a sharp look.
"I'm fine," he assured her for the hundredth time. "Really, I'm fine."
The heat from the fire was unexpectedly strong, made even stronger by the synthetic soles of his shoes. They all but fused themselves to his skin. Volya yelped and pulled his legs in, to save his tootsies from roasting.
This wiggling brought his hip in contact with Liam's.
His memory, straining under the winding and rewinding of the events he had witnessed in the Mnemosyne, returned him to the day when he was sitting with Toshka on his meager bed, worrying only about going to America. It felt as if millennia separated Volya from that day.
No, Volya argued with himself, no, it was only a few short weeks ago. Toshka was closer to him since they'd returned to Russia, nearly as close as Liam. But it didn't feel like it and he was too exhausted to fight it.
As if sensing the conflict within Volya subsiding, Liam picked the slipped blanket to tuck it around his legs instead of his shoulders. The warm hand lingered underneath on the inseam of Volya's jeans.
Volya's response was as primal as it was predictable. The fact didn't escape Liam, judging by his quiet chuckle. Liam's hand traveled higher, the thumb tracing the very end of the stitches. Volya's head wobbled for a second, his lips ready to nuzzle Liam's neck, eyes closing... but with a titanic effort of will, he straightened his neck.
He had a story to tell.
He didn't kick Liam's hand off his leg, however. Firstly, it would attract attention. Secondly, it was so frigging pleasant. Unfaithful too, but how long could he feel guilty about being attracted to Liam? They were all lechers.
Thirdly, and most importantly, Liam's flirting helped him distance himself from the ancient events, so he could actually tell them without breaking into sobbing or something.
He told it in a mechanical voice, recounting every detail that might matter to the scientists, and boy, did it matter to them! They picked it apart like Baba Masha picked meat off the pig hocks. Every shred had to end in someone's hungry mouth, no exception.
"Parthenogenesis," daSilva enthused. "Honest to God, parthenogenesis!"
Apparently, parthenogenesis was what science called reproduction without a man's ahem... input. What-frigging-ever...
But daSilva was on the roll. "Conception by a female without the male genetic matter transfer! Now, that would absolutely explain the conservancy of genetic mutations from generation to generation of the Alpha-population."
"Mmgh," Young objected, "aren't you jumping to conclusions, Renato?"
DaSilva huffed. "All the facts fit this hypothesis, Vincent."
"As far as we know, Akrum was present at the time of the ritual," Young objected. "It's a common practice in ancient societies to manufacture miracles, particularly when faith is the only thing that binds the community."
"True, but a miracle would have been manufactured by the cult workers for the faithful." daSilva rubbed his chin. "Why would Akrum pull the veil over Naktim's eyes, mmgh?"
Marina scoffed under her breath in response to that, but left her doubts unvoiced. She exchanged a glance with Damir, the two seemingly in a secret agreement for once.
Sure, those two would suspect others of cheating, Volya thought. Next to Liam's warm body, the thought didn't stir the resentment in him. Like, what right he had to judge anyway? Love was far more complicated than he'd once considered it to be.
Meanwhile, Lydia nodded enthusiastically to daSilva's every word. "Yes, yes. Volya would have seen Akrum in action if there were any shenanigans."
Volya mumbled that he told it as true as if he were at a confession. Why would he omit anything? It wasn't like he had to keep it PG-13.
Young wouldn't give it a rest. "All the Walkwe Y-chromosome carriers trace to the common male ancestor," he said. "Most likely, Akrum."
"Let's assume it's parthenogenesis until we have more evidence," Lydia overrode him. "Renato, are there any tests you can run to confirm it?"
Volya wasn't ready for them to glance at him again so soon, but they did.
DaSilva started a long-winded explanation, but Volya tuned it out. He came to terms with being an exciting abnormality holding the answer to a variety of fascinating questions. An Alpha or a human conceived without a father, was all the same to him.
"When is your birthday?" Liam whispered into his ear.
"March," Volya replied dully. "I was born in March, just in time to be conceived on the first night of the full moon of summer."
Conceived, born, abandoned. The thought shouldn't have hurt, not after all these years. He was over it for a long time. A thousand times he had gotten over it. Although, with the help of the accomplished scientists and marvels of bio-tech, he had discovered that he wasn't abandoned because the times were too hard; or because his parents were wretches like Toshka's piece of garbage dad. He wasn't a prince in disguise either, hidden until his destiny called upon him. Far from it.
He was discarded because it was a logical thing to do. His twin probably knew it too, and she wouldn't want to know him. He had the whole thing confirmed as an addendum in a larger study. It was as certain and as impersonal as a geometric proof. His personal circle got squared.
"I think I should put you to bed. You look exhausted." Liam's soft eyes widened in apprehension.
"No, not yet. I must do one more thing," Volya said.
While his glance circled the gathering, he noticed that there was one person lost in the science debate even more than he was. Anabelle.
She didn't benefit from the knowledge he was gathering in any personal way. She just looked miserable listening to all the mumbo-jumbo. Her four legs twitched restlessly.
Volya didn't believe in the knightly crap, but he had promised to help her. Plus, as Liam's sister, she was his kin too. So, yeah, it made her his responsibility.
He crawled over to Anabelle and took her hand. "Anabelle?"
She turned her eyes on him. Damn the sadness in them. Damn the resemblance to Liam.
"Anabelle, I know it doesn't sound like it, but what I'm learning is helping us. I'm getting closer to figuring out your curse. I promise." He wished he could add it was all about her, not him, but he hated lying.
"I can do it," he vowed instead. "I'm sure that I can do it."
Anabelle studied him mutely. In the depth of her eyes, something glistened. Faith. She swallowed. "I... I believe you. There is something radiating from you. Power. Energy... dunno."
"You feel it? Awesome! I thought I was going bonkers."
She laughed. "It's there. I think everyone feels it. They're just trying so hard to measure it, they don't understand that it's unquantifiable. But they will... Gosh, I talk like my mom."
Volya smiled. "It's okay. The main thing is that I'll break the curse for you."
Anabelle clasped his hand and nodded. Volya hoped he would never see Liam trying not to cry. Ever. He'd do his utmost to prevent it from happening, everything in his power. And he'd be a douche to offer Anabelle any less.
"Whatever it takes, I'll do it." He climbed to his feet. "Now, I really need to go catch some zzz's or Sangha would ban me from the Mnemosyne, and we can't have that. Right?"
"Right," Liam said behind his back.
Volya was so focused on Anabelle, he didn't notice that Liam had followed him.
"Do you want to come with?" Volya asked, barely believing the words out of his mouth. "I mean, to keep me company?" He was so frigging tired of being alone.
"Yes."
One simple yes, and Volya's heart made a somersault in his chest. He wouldn't be sleeping his grief off like an abandoned puppy dog tonight. The wolf in him was stirring. His mother could throw him away, but she couldn't take away what he was. Anabelle sensed power in him, and they all should. He'll show them.
"Everyone?" Volya clapped his hands to gain their attention. "Tomorrow, I will raise the Buyan Isle from the river."
The scientists gawked, faces lit by the orange fire glow, but nobody asked him if he could do such a thing.
"Nobody asked me if I could do it," he complained to Liam as they stumbled into the darkness between the tents and trailers.
"That's because nobody doubts you," Liam replied simply.
Volya smiled, savoring the moment.