“What if the ketamine put Vivienne out,” said Colton, catching on, “but not the creature?”
All four of them turned in unison to stare down at the surgical tent, where Jesse was set to begin. He stood frozen over Vivienne, his hands sheathed in latex, a scalpel glinting silver in his grip.
“I don’t know, man,” said Eric. “That’s a pretty wild theory.”
“We’ve seen wilder.” Colton swiveled to face Delaney. “Turn off your implant.”
“What?” Her brows pinched together. “What about you?”
“Lane.”
“Fine.”She slipped two fingers to the device at her ear. A pale light flickered and then died. Her voice slipped out, as thin as a ghost. “Happy?”
Ecstatic,signed Colton, tapping two fingers to the open palm of his hand. Below them, a palpable hush fell over the sanctuary. Beneath the wide drum lamps, Vivienne looked inhuman, her skin rendered silver. Feedback whined, and Jesse’s voice filtered again through the speakers.
“I initially planned to perform an electrocautery dissection of the throat, given that the greatest physical manifestation of the symbiote occurs in the patient’s larynx.” His words echoed through the ambulatory. He sounded just like a priest, proselytizing from his pulpit. In the crowd, several people jotted down notes.
“However, given new evidence, I’ve decided to modify my approach.” Gingerly, Jesse folded up the bottom of Vivienne’s gown, careful to keep her lower half covered in a thin sheet. Beneath the gown, her torso was as silver pale as the rest of her, save for a raised strip of skin that shimmered like scales.
“Holy shit,” said Eric.
“An initial workup of the site indicates the presence of hemolymph,” explained Jesse. “It’s a fluid tissue most commonly found in arthropod species. My hypothesis is that I’ll discover ventral nerve cords bundled beneath each segment. If my theory is correct, severing these cordsshouldallow for eventual extraction of the symbiote.”
More notes were jotted. Thomas glanced up to find Colton’s attention elsewhere. He stared into the crowded transept, his expression turbulent.
“What is it?” asked Thomas.
“Nothing.” He turned back toward the ambulatory. “I thought I saw someone I knew. I didn’t.”
“Quiet,” barked a pledge.
“The device I’m using is an ultrasonic scalpel,” said Jesse. A sudden buzz kicked through the room, shivering along the oppressive stone pilasters. “This will cauterize the tissue, which should aid in the production of coagulum as I work to harvest the symbiote.”
On the table, Vivienne lay as still as a corpse, her breath fogging the mask.
“I’ll make the first incision now,” said Jesse. He sounded unsure.
The sound of splitting skin was unmistakable over the speakers as the blade met resistance against the hard shell of Vivienne’s torso. With a snap, her hand flew out and grabbed Jesse’s wrist.
On the slab, Vivienne slowly sat up. Her eyes were open, pupils distended.
“This feels bad,” said Eric as the dogs began to bark.
Jesse fell back a step, restricted by the tight grip of her hand around his wrist. Vivienne tracked his movements, her head on a swivel. Reaching up with her free hand, she pried the oxygen mask loose. Slowly, her mouth split into a wide, sharp smile.
“Hello,” she said, cheery as a lark.
Thomas expected Jesse to tug himself free—to drop his scalpel and make a run for it. Instead, the surgical resident stood as though in thrall. An ill-fated sailor, drawn to the sea by siren song.
Hello, she’d said.
Her voice had been low and sweet. Water over stone. In the transept, everyone rose steadily to their feet, braced to flee. Only Thomas remained seated. He was riveted to the scene, dread turning his blood to icy rivers. Beside him, the dogs began to howl like wolves.
Down in the ambulatory, Vivienne swiveled to face Jesse, swinging her bare feet off the table and sliding onto the floor. There was a wrongness in the halting way she moved, each twitch and tic oddly mechanical. Like she was a child’s clockwork toy, wound up by a key.
“Why isn’t he running?” asked Colton.
“The better question,” said Eric, “is why aren’twerunning?”
