How many lives had she ruined so that she could have this child? Too many to count.
“So why aren’t they scouring the wilderness to find you two traitors?” I asked. There were so many questions.
“Apella and I are inconsequential to the project now. They have everything they need to continue. My guess is, they don’t believe us to be alive. Clara was on her fourth pregnancy, she was to be disposed of after this child and you…well.”
I never got used to it. The way the Superiors treated us like we were nothing. Vessels to be used and disposed of. What was the purpose of all of this? Where was it leading?
“What about me?” I was afraid to ask.
His pale face twisted, his nose wiggling like a mouse. He ran his hand through his fair hair, coming up with a handful of flowers. Shaking them off, he told me, “Well, you were always considered slightly defective because of your extraordinary eyes. You were an experiment. The babies they are aiming for are more like Hessa, an interesting combination of characteristics, blue eyes, light brown skin. If your eye colors were passed to your child, you would no longer be useful.” He put his head down, ashamed, as he should be.
I was defective, in the Superiors’ minds. I stood taller. Out here, those things didn’t matter. I searched myself. Letting my eyes follow one blossom, drowsily wandering to the earth, picking up minute winds and changing direction. I think I liked being defective.
“What about Joseph and Deshi? Won’t they be looking for them?” I asked, thinking they must be missing us by now.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
I only had one more question. “What exactly is the Project?”
“The Project is the Woodlands way to become as they have always wanted,” he wheezed. “To be All Kind. They use the samples to create the perfect race, a raceless race where every child will look almost the same. They have around four-hundred girls at the moment. Each girl can produce an indefinite amount of children.”
I gulped. My mind was spinning.
“Do you remember when they took all the eldest children about eight or nine years ago?” I nodded. Of course I remembered. I drew a breath, which cut my lungs sharply.
“Well, that’s where it started. Those children were the first test subjects.”
I couldn’t believe it. A lot of those kids were only well, kids.
“Apella worked very hard perfecting her methods. Her technology is flawless,” he said. I tried to control my rolling stomach at the thought of what ‘perfecting her methods’ may have actually involved for those poor children. “And Este has taken that technology to another, dreadful level. There will be no need to continue interracial marriage or breeding. No need for breeding at all.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, feeling like I was drowning in this information. I shook the droplets of horrible revelations from my hair. “What about the children in towns now?” I thought of my mother and her baby.
Alexei, the bearer of bad tidings said, “They will be fine. But it is the end of families. Soon, they will announce no children can be conceived after a certain date. The one-child law was a way to wind things down and get the first test subjects. Now they will stop women having any babies outside of the Project.” He paused, speculating, “Something in the water maybe…” His eyes wandered.
I guess they could. They had enough girls to produce the children required to make this work and they were always going to have a fresh supply.
I was reeling. Feeling faint. I dropped the apples and the nuts I’d collected. They fell with a dull thud in the dirt. I stepped off Alexei and he breathed a sigh of relief. I felt myself being sucked into a black hole, pulled backwards in time and space. Angered and frightened. The arrogance of the Superiors. It was insane. It was as I had always suspected. We were not protected—we were controlled. I felt a cloud of nausea hit me and I fell. Joseph caught me under my arms and sat me down on the ground.
They had come to find me.
I turned and vomited, physically purging myself of the information I had just heard. I wiped my mouth inelegantly.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.
“Long enough,” Deshi replied, glaring in Alexei’s direction. Joseph looked sympathetic, like he could see the two sides, his brows pulling together in consternation. So many lies. Part of me wished I hadn’t heard the story. The thought of all those girls, walking in line like zombies. What a miserable future they had in front of them. I couldn’t bear it.
“Where’s Hessa?” I asked.
“He’s with Apella,” Deshi said.
My feelings for her were confused. She was weak and selfish, yes. But she was just a pawn in a much bigger and disturbing plan. I was not able to forgive her, I’m not sure I ever would, but I understood her better.
I said plainly, “I will think about what you asked.”
Joseph handed Alexei his glasses, which he put on, dirt still clinging to the thin wire frames. He walked past me, without saying a word. I was tempted to say boo to his back, to see if he would scamper away.
Joseph lugged me to my feet. “I think you scared him,” he said, lips crooked to the side, a wicked glint in his eye.
“Good.”
I started to think that Joseph, Deshi, and I needed to make a plan—one that didn’t involve Apella or Alexei.
Lying with Joseph by the fire, it was hard to concentrate. I needed to ask him a question, but I kept forgetting my words. His lips on my neck, his hand running up and down my forearm, the gold took over and I lost my place. I grabbed his hand and stopped him, difficult as it was.
“I want to talk to you and Deshi.” My eyes looked to Deshi and Hessa, sleeping peacefully, light snuffly snoring coming from the beautiful baby.
“Uhuh…” he managed, as he ran the tip of his nose along my earlobe, I shivered. “Stop it!” I whispered harshly, squeezing his wrist. He stopped.
“What is it?” he asked, unapologetic.
I looked over to make sure Apella and Alexei were asleep and whispered, “I think we should leave them.”
I could feel him shaking his head behind me. “No, we can’t. I know you don’t like to think about it, but that baby is coming. We will need Apella’s help when the day comes.”
I thought about it. “But she pretty much left Clara to die. What makes you think she wouldn’t let me die too?” If it came to that. I felt my body tensing.
Joseph loosened his hold on me and whispered, “You’re not remembering things clearly. You were in shock. Think back to that morning.” His voice was steady.
I didn’t want to.
“I can’t,” I said, feeling my breathing getting quicker. It was a strangling feeling. The idea of remembering that day squeezed the air out of me.
He pulled me closer, warm arms encircling me, lulling me into a false sense of security. “I think you need to.”
I closed my eyes. Memories of the darkness, the fire, the noise, filtered in. I remembered voices. They came back to me in snippets, pieces of time cut out and brought back to me, frayed and dirty.
“Come on, breathe.”
Muffled thuds, compressions.
“What can I do?” A calm voice, strong. Joseph.
“Put your hand there,” she said.
“Where?”
“Yes, there, push down. Hard. Harder than that. We need to slow the bleeding. Rub while you compress. There may be a clot.”
“Thump, thump, thump.”
The memory floated away, as did the voices, flying out the tunnel, softer and softer until there was silence.