"This is most excellent news, Herr Doktor. I have been chomping at the bit all day. Sit please, tell me everything."
The doctor joined his commanding officer at the dining table and accepted a modest plate of food.
"Every test has returned satisfactory or excellent. We had very few challenges today."
"I'd be curious what kind of challenges Ms. Larson could possibly give you." Major's eyes sparkled wickedly.
The doctor immediately thought of the hymenectomy he had performed and of the knocked over lunch tray.
"A few emotions, but she held it together for the most part."
"Poor young frau, having to spend her days with just you for company."
Dok knew full well how few people there were in Millennium who could do much more than tolerate his presence. As it was, he ignored the jibe from his life companion and took a small bite of the buttery pasta, scowling at its blandness.
"I've been wondering," Major continued, "exactly how many couples did you interview in Rio de Janeiro?"
"Nine. Although one pair turned out to be brother and sister, which you had recommended against. I would have caught onto that fact sooner, except that their behavior was…unseemly. There was another that initially showed promise, until I let it slip during our conversation that she was pregnant. He was not too thrilled with this information, to put it mildly. Definitely a volatile couple, completely unsuitable to our needs."
The Major giggled at this most wonderful gossip. "I should send you out more often if you're going to return with such good stories. But tell me, how did you know this was the one? I'd like to hear your perspective before I share my observations."
The doctor ran a thumb thoughtfully over the edge of the rich wooden table for a few moments before replying.
"They were easy to work with. The male was particularly trusting, even conversed with me in German. It was a simple matter to get the information I needed. The female is rather dependent on him, but she is adaptable and intelligent. And of course…I had a feeling."
"Your instincts are impeccable. Meeting with her was such a delight, such a departure from my normal day. I saw her inner strength; there was fire there. Once tempered with the acceptance of her place here, then she will be perfectly qualified. And I do like her looks, hidden as they were beneath her frowns and dishevelment. Thank you for humoring my vain request."
The doctor dipped his head in gratitude at the acknowledgement of his efforts. Despite their long history together, praise from his superior was still as meaningful as it had ever been.
"So where do we stand now?" Major put a large bite into his mouth, anticipating a longer answer.
"The goal is three-fold. There is a regimen that must be implemented in coordination with her natural cycle in order to retrieve the necessary raw materials, so to speak. Then comes what I must admit to be the rather daunting work of creating healthy specimens that will meet with your specifications. Also I must prepare her physically and mentally for the implantation and what comes after. We could be looking at 3 to 6 months before we can even make the first attempt."
"Still so far off," the Major said, sounding almost disappointed. "Well, that is quite a workload you will have. Shall we halt the artificial production in the meantime?"
Dok frowned slightly. "I would rather not lose our momentum there. Two units per week should still be possible."
"Very well, but if it does become burdensome we will halve that. I cannot have my Grand Professor losing out on his sleep."
Dok deadpanned as his superior knew full well that he rarely slept as it was.
Major raised his wine glass, which was already half drained of its red liquid. "Ein Toast auf die liebe Mutter. May she bear us great happiness!"
There were a few noticeable changes to her room once Tamara returned. Much of the extra furniture and clutter had been removed, though the cot and the short filing cabinets remained. There were also a few additional articles of clothing in the closet that had not been there before, including a plain cotton nightgown. Her own clothes were missing and she assumed they were gone for good.
Tamara slept in fits and starts, having no sleeping pill to help her this time. She startled awake to a knock around 7 am, but when she stumbled to unlock the door there was nobody there, just a breakfast tray.
At ten minutes until the appointed time, the stuttering soldier came by to take her downstairs again. He didn't say anything in greeting, and she had no desire to attempt a conversation either. She found that she was even more nervous about what the day would hold, despite having survived these first few days as Millennium's captive.
As they approached the lab Tamara felt like her stomach could not take the nerves anymore. Her escort opened the door for her, and she walked straight inside, not daring to stop lest she not be able to move her body again.
Her fears were not unfounded, when it turned out that the morning was to be devoted to dental cleaning and restorative work, if needed. Dok had a room outfitted solely for the purpose, which she thought looked stupidly normal compared to what she would have expected him to have. The only oddity in the room was the pair of anatomical models that were sitting on the counter. One was a perfectly normal and identifiable set of adult teeth, but the other looked like it belonged to some terrifying carnivorous animal.
Why would he even have a model of razor sharp teeth like that? Does he work on jungle animals, too?
Having neglected going to the dentist for a few years, she was pretty sure it was going to be a most tedious and unpleasant time.
Looking up into the overhead light, she tried to make conversation to calm her nerves. "So you have to do all the dental work around here, too?"
"Hmph, teeth are easy, hardly worth my time. But yes, someone has to do it and unfortunately the task falls to me."
As in all things, he was very thorough. The x-rays he took revealed three spots of tooth decay that weren't too deep, but he still insisted on treating before they could become worse. When he released her to use the bathroom while he prepared for the procedure, she vomited her breakfast and considered whether death would be preferable to this existence.
Noting her white face and shaky limbs when she stumbled back into the room, Dok asked if there was anything that could help her to relax. Thinking back to a time when dental visits were a normal part of her routine, she swallowed a mouthful of bile and said, "Do you have a radio?"
He did, it just turned out that he couldn't stand listening to it, so they compromised by having it on at a moderate volume, and then only on a talk show. Tamara felt anything was better than listening to just the sound of the drill. Focusing on the sound of the voices speaking in Portuguese, made it feel less like she was alone with the mad doctor, even if she knew none of the language.
Somehow she got through the next few miserable hours. Mostly she kept her eyes shut, but occasionally did watch his hands which is how she finally determined that there was something wrong with his fourth and pinky fingers. They were fused together or something unusual like that, which was why they occupied the same finger of each glove.
Once they were done, he suggested a quick twenty minute nap while the numbing wore off and she fell back gratefully into the same hospital bed from the previous day.
After that, he said they were going to go over some results of the past day and she would be able to ask a few questions.
"You are overall fairly healthy, for your age. Slightly underweight and you could do with more activity that gets your heart rate up. But these things are easy to fix."
"So what is the purpose of all this? Just getting me healthier?" It sounded as lousy to say out loud as it had when practiced in her head.
"I need fit individuals because my research requires that the cells and DNA I use be of particularly high quality. There are such high failure rates that it just affords me the best chance possible."
"So you need my DNA." She said it as more of a statement than a question.
"Primarily yes," he said, shifting his leg in the desk chair. "But while you are here, I may recruit you for any number of research projects, mostly of the mundane variety."
More mystery, but the important question needed to be asked so she braced herself.
"What happens when you're done needing me? What happens to us then?"
Dok cleared his throat. "That would be for the Major to decide. Normally a relationship with Millennium is a lifelong thing."
Tamara struggled not to hyperventilate.
"However, if you continue to be cooperative, there is the possibility that you could eventually be cleared to be let go, under the strictest rules of secrecy. Our Major has many resources and could set you both up with new identities in, shall we say, a quiet place."
It confirmed her fears that she could never go back to her former life, and would probably never see her family and friends again. But starting a new life over with Roger would still be infinitely better than suffering under Millennium's rule forever.
Feeling mistrustful, her voice held only a shaky note of hope. "Why would he do this?"
"Because he can be most generous when he is pleased. Which is why my best suggestion would be to continue as you are doing, and not to cause any trouble."
Tamara wondered what kind of trouble she could possibly give.
"Start with forty sit-ups and twenty push-ups and then we'll go from there."
Dok had apparently run out of questions to ask for today, and had opted to fill the remainder of their time together with something other than having her sit around. To his credit, he had asked what her pain level was at the moment, and she'd been honest that nothing was seriously bothering her.
"You'll probably sleep better tonight, too."
Tamara didn't exactly hate exercise, but she vastly preferred dancing or mowing lawns to calisthenics. At least her previous attempts had offered her the distraction of following along on TV. But even as she struggled through the repetitions, she reminded herself that it was better than the dentist's chair. Or whatever other nefarious procedures Dok could come up with to pass the time.
The idea that he wanted her purely for her DNA seemed ludicrous, and mundane procedures sounded laughable. From her perspective, Millennium could have kidnapped any homeless person off the street or paid some poor college student for blood samples. But no, they had targeted her for some unknown reason. She was certain now that Dok had been profiling her back in Rio. She couldn't remember saying anything unusual or interesting about herself, but there must have been something that had piqued his interest.
There was definitely something they weren't telling her about why she was here. But how to get anyone to reveal that information until they decided to was a puzzle she had not yet solved.
"Stomach off the floor. Don't think I won't notice."
Grunting, she pulled off the floor, arms already shaking like jelly.
Twelve…
"…twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, THIRTY!"
Roger rolled over onto the cool cement floor, away from the puddle of sweat he had made. He sat and just breathed for a few minutes until his heart rate came down a bit.
He considered doing a few more, but then thought better of it, as he would wait and see what the dinner offering was today. His meals seemed to vary somewhat in their caloric value and he didn't want to push himself beyond what was available for his body to consume.
No one had come to see him since Dok's visit on the day of their arrival, except for the meal deliveries and the occasional check to make sure he was alive and doing nothing of concern. This was done most annoyingly in the middle of the night by clanging a baton between the jail bars until he awoke with a jump.
Oh, that first day had been hell and all he had been able to think about was how Tamara must be suffering somewhere in the complex without him. By the second day he had formulated the basis of a plan to try to ensure their survival and now on day three he was starting to implement it. All he could do right now, though, was keep his body and mind strong until he could use them to help her.
Perhaps five more wouldn't hurt.
Stay strong, Tammy, he thought, lowering himself slowly to the floor. We are going to get through this.
Notes:
If I've got my German correct, Major says "A toast to the dear mother."
Thank you for the review, gg! I will keep going with the story, and I'm glad there's someone out there to enjoy it.