“Really?” she asked with surprise. “I always thought it was a more modern problem.”
Dante shook his head. “From what my grandmother says, pollution has been a problem for quite some time. Especially in more populated areas. She said it was a problem even in Roman times.”
“Well,” Mary murmured, “That’s depressing.”
Dante smiled faintly.
“So, tell me about growing up then, instead,” Mary suggested.
He glanced from the rear camera view to the road and shrugged. “What do you want to know?”
Mary considered the question. She almost asked what it was like being a twin, but didn’t want to make him think of his missing brother, so instead asked, “Did you like school growing up?”
“Tomasso and I were homeschooled,” Dante said sadly.
So much for not making him think of his brother, Mary thought wryly.
“Most born immortals are,” he added. “It is safer.”
“Safer how?” she asked curiously.
“Well, children are not known for their self-control or consideration of consequences,” he pointed out.
“And they might fang out and attack another student in a school?” she suggested, trying to follow his reasoning.
“They might,” Dante acknowledged. “Or they might get injured on the playground, which could be equally dangerous. A serious injury could land them at a hospital before adult immortals could get there to prevent it, which might lead to blood tests or something else that might reveal the nanos in their blood,” he pointed out, and then added, “But even small injuries could cause problems because they would heal so quickly, which would draw attention.”
“Yeah, I guess it would,” Mary agreed thoughtfully.
“And then there is the risk of a young immortal sharing the knowledge of what they are with a mortal friend, thinking they may never betray them,” Dante went on. “Unfortunately, friendships do not always last a lifetime, and even if they do, friends have falling-outs and the mortal might reveal that secret in a moment of spite.”
“So, basically immortal children are . . . what?” she asked. “They keep you only among other immortal children?”
Dante shook his head. “Usually immortal children lead very solitary lives. At least, in regard to other children. They have their families of course, but in the past, immortals were very spread out and they rarely had friends their own age. Unless they were lucky and had a twin like I did,” he added quietly.
“Like you do,” Mary said firmly, afraid he was giving up on his brother. To get his mind off Tomasso, she asked, “Why were immortals spread out?”
“Having too many hunters in the same area was risky.”
“How?” she asked at once.
Dante hesitated, and then said, “Life for us was different before blood banks were started. We had to hunt.”
“Humans you mean,” Mary tried not to sound too angry as she said it, but knew some of her disgust at the thought of her fellow humans being hunted like animals showed in her voice.
“We need blood to survive,” he reminded her gently. “But we did not hunt willy-nilly. It was not necessary to take so much blood we killed the human, and immortals have been careful from the beginning not to do so.”
“Don’t kill the cow that supplies the milk?” she suggested dryly.
“Just so,” Dante agreed calmly. “However, just taking blood from too many people in the same area can cause problems. It raises the possibility of discovery of our kind. We lived very carefully throughout history, everything we did meant to keep knowledge of our kind hidden.”
“So you basically wanted a big herd to feed from, like a whole city to one family?” Mary said, and then sighed to herself as she realized how bitchy that had come out when she hadn’t really meant it to. She did understand their need to feed, and knew it wasn’t even their fault that they had to. It was a matter of survival. Still, that didn’t make it any easier to accept that she and every other human on the planet were basically cattle to them.
Dante didn’t react to her attitude. He merely said, “We did what we could to minimize our need for blood. In an effort to reduce the amount of blood we needed, immortals took to keeping mostly night hours and sleeping during the day to avoid sunlight and the extra damage. Most were careful about their diets and eschewed drinking as well. And despite the fact that we could easily win any battle, engaging in one was always a last resort, to avoid injuries that would need extra blood for repair.”
“So your people were a bunch of vegetarian pacifist night owls?” Mary asked dubiously.