Night mode

“So, this is interesting,” Bix said. She was looking at some device that held a small droplet of Haradeth’s blood. He looked over and regretted the motion, as it made the room spin. Losing blood is making you light headed. Who would have thought? Bix had stabbed him with a hollow needle attached to a tube of some material that was as clear as glass but bent like rope. Which meant he could see his blood flowing through the tube and ending in some kind of clear bag made of the same material as the tube. It was profoundly disturbing to watch, and he was grateful for the opportunity to distract himself.

“What is?”

“Your blood. See, I had thought that…arg. The limits of your language. So gods like your mother, they can breed with humans. Obviously. That’s how you exist, so you know your mother boinked a human at some point.”

“Can we not talk about my mother…boiking?”

“Fine. Boffed. Bedded. Lay with. Flathed. What term that means two slabs of meat smacking themselves together until they’ve made baby meat do you prefer?”

Haradeth suddenly wished he could just focus on his blood. “I’d prefer we move on in the conversation?”

“Fine. Anyway, so given that you could interbreed, I assumed little gods and humans were part of similar species. Kind of how you can get a mule from a donkey and a horse, although not sterile so not exactly right. But that doesn’t seem to be the case.” She pointed to the slab of blood. “You have two separate chains of meat words that are spiraled around each other. That shouldn’t be possible naturally. It’s just like Synit’s meat words, only instead of Alohym and Human woven together with crude structures, it’s elegant. Refined. Which either means that you are naturally impossible but still exist anyway, which I suppose makes sense because magic, or you’re naturally impossible because you’re not natural.”

Haradeth grimaced. “I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re a moron.” Bix turned her attention back to the device, but gestured towards Synit. “She is unnatural. We can agree on that, yes?”

“Yes,” Haradeth said.

“Okay. Normally, it’s only possible for two species that are this different to blend together because of something unnatural happening. Like her. Godlings look like they’re the result of someone very intelligent doing very complicated work on meat words. But you aren’t the product of complicated science, you’re the product of uncomplicated rutting. Right? Your mother wasn’t secretly hiding a laboratory in her forest?”

“I’m certain she wasn’t.”

Bix nodded. “Then that means that something that shouldn’t happen naturally did anyway, which is stupid and what a lazy meat brain would use to explain things. A crystal lattice mind, such as myself, can see that would be incredibly unlikely. Which would mean that it’s far more likely that, at some point, someone turned god’s reproductive organs into secret laboratories. Question – do you know of any Godlings that had a divine father?”

Haradeth nodded. “I knew…one.” That memory brought back a host of ones he did his best to keep down, and he had to push them back before tears could well in his eyes. “She had a divine father.”

Bix sighed, and impressive feat for someone with no actual need for air. “Then that means that the secret laboratories aren’t hidden in divine wombs. They must be hidden in your cells. Which would explain these structures I’m seeing drifting along with your mitochondria, and…and I’ve lost you.”

Haradeth did his best to look apologetic.

“I’m not going to teach you biology. Suffice it to say that life is made of tiny pieces of living bricks. Inside those living bricks are very tiny things that house meat words and break down food to turn into energy and all sorts of other stuff. Like pieces of straw that keep a clay brick solid, only far more complicated. Meat has special ones that produce extra energy called mitochondria. Plants have special ones that take energy from sunlight called chloroplasts. You, little Godling, have an extra one. One that doesn’t occur in most meat. I’m guessing it’s the difference between gods and dragons and the rest of meat, and they also are what allow you to interbreed with normal meat.”

“I’m sorry…did you just put dragons and gods in the same category?”

“Of course I did.” Bix rolled her eyes. “Have you seen a dragon?”

“A couple times.”

“Then you should know – or you would know if your meat brain was capable of it – that they shouldn’t be able to fly. The weight distribution for their wings is all wrong. A dragon’s wings would need to be three times their size to allow them to really fly, and if they were that big the energy to flap them would starve the dragon before they could even get up a mountain. Not to mention the flames, which can’t be explained by a biological process. You…flath me, I lost you again, didn’t I?” She didn’t wait for Haradeth to respond. “Dragon heavy. Dragon wings too small. Snap if flap. Don’t snap because magic tiny straws in meat bricks.”

“That…made more sense,” Haradeth said.

“Which is probably what that Heartflame does,” Bix said. “It excites the mitochondria. They work overtime, and biological processes happen faster, thus healing. If you do it for long enough, some of the mitochondria turn into these new structures. Then you get a half dragon as more and more of the mitochondria are converted. Although…that doesn’t explain everything.” Bix sighed and picked up a saw. “I’m going to start cutting up Synit now. We’ve got a lot of your blood. It’s not as fun as stabbing meat, but it needs to happen so I can fix her. And you’re going to promise me something, or I’ll just take all your blood.”

“Okay,” Haradeth said, trying not to think about how weak he felt right now and his inability to parse when Bix’s threats were serious or not. “What’s that?”

“When we get a chance, you’re going to get me a light mutant. A living one, twisted and warped by light. Because I think…I think that might explain how gods and dragons work. And maybe how Alohym work. And perhaps more. Promise?”

“I promise,” Haradeth said weakly.

Bix pinched off the tube that was draining his blood and removed the needle, placing a bandage over the injury. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t have drained all your blood,” she said. “If I was going to kill you, you’d scream a whole lot more.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Should I stay?”

“Not unless you want to see what Synit looks like on the inside. Which I understand meat gets squeamish about – oh my, you’re turning green. That’s hilarious. Go. Eat lots of sugar and get some sleep. Come back tomorrow to collect Synit. Or her body if this doesn’t work. Your call.”

Haradeth hurried out of her lab as fast as his weak legs would allow.