by Corrie Wang
Is my Grand Mati’s solution to the divide.
“You’re saying that we don’t need males anymore?”
In spite of everything, Grand laughs. “Some would argue we barely needed them in the first place. But yes. That’s correct. At least in the macro scheme of evolution, males have officially outlived their usefulness.”
“Majesty was never snatched, was she?”
“No,” Grand says quietly. “She came to the beasts’ side willingly, albeit against my wishes. This was six years ago. Six years before the truce expired. The males were going into yet another election. Over the previous decade they’d had a new mayor nearly every two years. The other elders and I felt it was only a matter of time before one of them got it in their head that they wanted us back. Altering them wasn’t working. Removing a male’s testosterone and libido didn’t make less beastly beasts. It made sickly, depressed ones. We needed a new plan.
“As you remember, when you were growing up, Majesty was our fiercest fighter. When I suggested we infiltrate the males, she volunteered to do the reconnaissance. I protested, but she went regardless. Thanks to her PTTs, we found out about the cameras, that the beasts still used a cash-based economy, and that they hadn’t moved on from the Night the same way we had. She’s the one who told us the mob was the alliance we needed.”
“The mob? Rage has been trying to kill me the whole time I’ve been here.”
“From what I understand, he tried to capture you—a few times—to send you home. How do you think I even knew you were missing?” Her eyes tear up. “First Twofer, then I came back to an empty house… I thought they took you, too.”
“No,” I say, surprised. “I left a note.”
“Where?” I tell her, but she shakes her head. “No. It wasn’t there. Thankfully, Rage messaged the second he realized it was you in the tunnel. But you escaped. He tried to bring you in at the steam station. But you escaped. He almost grabbed you at the mayor’s office when he went to find out if Chia hired mobsters to murder our fees…”
“And we escaped,” I finish for her.
She nods. “Rage is the only reason the Fortress has been possible all these years. He’s found us trustworthy guards. He offered to take our graduating males, protect them after they left here. He also found Majesty after she went missing.”
I suddenly feel sick. “Please tell me Rage isn’t Twofer’s father.”
“Two Five should be so lucky, but no.” She plays with her braid. “Rage is gay. Maj was supposed to be gone for only a week. Two, tops. But then all her PTTs stopped. We lost her for three months. I thought she was dead. Rage found her beaten up and knocked out in a back alley downtown. He nursed her back to health, or some semblance of it, and delivered her to us at the bridge.”
“What happened to her?” I ask, enthralled.
I’ve never heard any of this.
“She’s never said.”
“And the labs. All those baby fees…”
It was one of the things that hadn’t made sense to me. If fees thought the labs were destroyed, how come all the Miracles and every year above us were still learning the science behind ex-utero births and CRISPRing? Now I knew. We learned the science because Grand was confident that one day we’d put it to use.
She nods. “We’d never have the level of weaponry the males have. Even if the mercenaries scavenged towns miles away, I refused to be a gun-based society again. So we used our intellect instead. Fortitude’s crew didn’t torch the labs. We did. In ways that wouldn’t matter. On buildings that had no use. We wanted everyone to think the labs were gone. To give us time and space to breathe, to assess. We took the girls in gestation and gave the boys to the men we trusted. Ansel. Sarge. Zeno. Chia…”
“Chia?” I sit up straighter. Reason. “If you trusted Chia enough to give him a child, why not ask him for your labs back? Why all this secrecy?”
“Ask Chia to return our labs?” She snorts. “Just as he is ‘asking’ us to move into internment camps? Nope. I am done asking beasts for permission. For the first time in the entire history of the world, our power is our own. We decide where we live. We decide whether or not to procreate and in what manner. We are done giving up everything for nothing in return. Glori, this is bigger than the labs or the divide. It’s not about gender for me. At least not anymore. It’s about freedom. Power. Our entire future.”
As she talks, she grips my hands imploringly. I’ve forgotten how intense her gaze is. How vivid and bright that gaze sees our world. Everything is possible to her. It’s infuriating. Sensing my displeasure, she releases my hands and takes a thermos from her bag.
“He¯ cha,” she says in Mandarin.
It’s our family’s joke. What Liyan always says, regardless of the malady. Drink tea. Tea makes everything better. Maybe it does. What she pours smells like herbs and strength and home.
“What now?” I ask tightly, even as I gratefully take the cup she offers and drink the whole thing down despite the scorching temperature.
“Simple. I’m going to take over the city and insist Chia and the other beasts leave.”
I laugh, but she’s serious. “Do fees know about this?”
“Of course. With the exception of you and the Miracles and a few others of our youngest generations. We didn’t think it was a healthy way for you to live with a potential war looming on the horizon. Although we prepared you all as best we could.”
“And what does all of this mean for Mouse?”
“Mouse?” Her brow furrows.
“Twofer.”
“Glori.” Her lower lip trembles. “I didn’t tell you on the island, because I didn’t know how. Of course, if I knew you’d chase after him, I would have immediately, but Spark Plug… Twofer is dead. The mercenaries found his body on the beasts’ shore. The beasts killed him.”
I let out a shocked laugh. “No, they didn’t. He’s here.”
Her entire body quakes like someone shook her. “What?”
“Yes. Why else would I be here?”
“I haven’t had a chance to ask.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Glori… you’ve actually seen him?”
“Yes, and talked to him and hugged him. He’s here and he’s fine. He even…” My voice breaks. Wiping at my eyes, I take a deep breath and continue, “He even gave himself a name. Mouse Scooter. And he’s made friends.”
Holding a trembling hand to her lips, she clears her throat and in a raised voice says, “Doctor, I’d like a word.”
A moment later, there’s a gentle knock. The door pops open.
“Ma’am?”
It’s Doctor, but not the neat, blue-suited male from the screens. This doctor is wearing the same sweat suit the wards wear. His hair is long and gray and sits messily on top of his head in a wild knot. He is openly sweating, and red dots pepper his hands and face. No wonder he chose to appear as the blue-suited version of himself. This male is a slob. He blows his nose into a rumpled handkerchief. Grand doesn’t try to hide her shudder of disgust.
“What do you know about a child being dropped off here a few days ago?” she asks.
He nods. “Yes. That happened. It must have slipped my mind, getting all the Sixteens ready as we have been. Why?” he asks innocently. “Is he of interest to you?”
“A young child that we did not birth? Of course he is of interest to me. I want him brought here. Immediately.”
“Also, my friend Sway,” I quickly add.
Grand looks to the doctor expectantly. What passes for mild shock crosses his features but evaporates as a violent, phlegmy cough wracks his body.
He dabs at his forehead with his dirty handkerchief. “Beg your pardon. I haven’t been feeling well, except if my recollection serves, Sway was released. Same day Glori came in.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s lying. Breaker heard him. Downstairs. Screaming.”
The doctor calmly gestures to the room around us.
“We are downstairs. Do you hear screaming?” He presses a fing
er to his ear. “Ma’am, my brother informs me that the mayor and his patrol have passed the tollbooths. It is time. Perhaps for now, the little one should be left where he is? He is sleeping, after all.”
“Fine,” Grand replies, even as I protest.
She gives a curt nod of dismissal. With a flat smile, Doctor makes a faint bow. When the door closes behind him, I scoot closer to my grand and clutch her arm.
“Grand, something isn’t right,” I whisper urgently. “I don’t think everything is working the way you think it is. He is absolutely lying. Plus, the mercenaries lied to you about Twofer and I saw Misère and Muerte kill Rauha.”
Her shock is so great, it brings her to her feet.
“Rauha?” she asks softly. “When?”
I swivel to look at the wall for Motor’s timer. I have no idea how long ago it was.
“On my transport ride out here. They were with mob that were dressed as patrol soldiers when they did it.”
I move to stand, but the motion makes me woozy. I immediately sit back down. My eyelids suddenly feel heavy but not naturally. Like I’ve been drugged. I look at the empty cup in my hand. He¯ cha. When would I learn that my grand was a master of sedation?
“Oh, Grand,” I say quietly.
“I’m sorry, Spark Plug. I didn’t know Twofer… Forgive me”—she smiles—“Mouse was here. But now at least when you both wake up this will all be over. I’ll leave word for him to be brought to you as soon as he stirs. And I’ll look into your friend as well.”
I frantically grip her hand. “Fees think Reason told the males we had Mouse in the first place. No. That’s not right. I have to warn you to watch out.”
My words aren’t working. Grand is in danger. But all I want is to lie down.
“You don’t need to warn me about anything,” she says, laying me back and tucking me in. “You need to rest. When I return and you’ve had some sleep, we can go around and around on all of this. As many times as you need to. Now please don’t worry. I’m not so foolish as to think I’m the only one with backup plans. I’m well prepared.” She smooths back my nonexistent hair, then kisses my forehead. “I hope one day you’ll know just how much I love you.”
This is my chance. To tell her that I love her, too. Even through all the lies and deceit. Because even though I am furious and disgusted and betrayed, this is my Grand Mati. She has stood by me my whole life. Loved me, tucked me in, made me laugh, made me me. Grand because she simply is. Every single thing about her.
What is love, if it is not stronger and deeper than anything else?
She pauses by the door to give me one last look. I want to say that I love her, too. In spite of everything. Regardless.
Always.
But I don’t. So she leaves.
I wake to silence. When I swing myself out of bed, my head pounds a hundred times worse than it did from drinking with Sway. The floor is cold on my bare feet. On my grand’s chair there are now freshly folded clothes. I hurriedly put on the sweatshirt and leggings, then notice a pair of boots beneath the chair. Non-ridiculous, low-heeled, synth-leather boots that actually fit me. I now totally get what Comma meant about happy crying. When I stick my hands in the pocket of the hoodie, I touch plastic.
My grand gave me a keycard.
Even better is what she left hanging on the doorknob.
My pack.
Grand said it would all be over when I woke. Angry as I am, I hate how ominous that sounds. I also hate that I have no idea if a few minutes, hours, or days have passed since she said it. Regardless, Mouse has definitely been waiting longer than we planned. If we even still had a plan. Or needed one. My Grand Mati ran this place. For a moment, I feel tremendous relief. My role here is done. She’ll fix everything.
And then I swipe my card and step out into the hall.
It is sterile, white-tiled, and so perfectly silent that I immediately have flashes of my childhood nightmare. The Night has happened again and I’m the only remaining survivor.
“Grand?” I call out.
Nothing. The Butler system must not function down here, because the walls stay wall-like. Regardless of my situation, I can’t help but give a silent thanks be that I am alive post-Night and my home will never talk to me. As I move down the long white hall, slipping my knives into place, a faint beeping sound grows louder.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
Up on my right, there are two identical doors, both with frosted glass windows. One bears a picture of a fee in pants. The other a fee in a dress. The beeping comes from behind the door with the pants fee. The Room with the Pants, just like Breaker said.
I push on the door. I don’t need my keycard. It isn’t locked. As if whatever’s inside is no longer a threat, or won’t be escaping. I both desperately do and do not want to see what’s on the other side.
At one time, it was a bathroom. The toilet now has a tray of equipment resting on it. Dirty scalpels and rods, and the same pre-Night pastry torch that our library loaned out even though the butane canister stopped working ages ago. Power tools and a tattoo gun hang along one wall. Branding irons another. The garbage can next to the sink is filled with bloody rags. But these are all quick, fleeting observations because my eyes are instantly drawn to the gurney that’s pushed into the corner of the room and the body that lies on it.
“Oh my mother,” I whisper.
It’s Sway; dressed in hospital scrubs. His head is tilted back on the pillow, his mouth hangs slack. One arm flops off the gurney. I rush over and shake him. He doesn’t respond.
I’m too late. A sob burbles up in my chest.
“No, no, no,” I murmur.
I cup his cheeks in my hands.
Suddenly, his eyes fly open.
“Staring,” he bursts out.
I shriek and leap away from him. His eyes gleam brightly, and then he grins at me.
“Were you faking being dead?” I whisper, horrified.
“I figured I’d never get a more perfect chance.” His grin has the audacity to widen. “I had to.”
I leap at him, pounding on his chest. “I am going to murder you.”
“Boop!” he cries out defensively, shielding himself from my blows. “Boop. Boop. Boop.”
Managing to grab my wrists, he pulls me to him, and next second, I’m curled into his lap. He hugs me tightly, rocking us back and forth as we both do some version of relieved crying.
“Someone told me you were screaming,” I whisper into his chest.
I feel him shake his head. “No. They gave me some kind of shot when I first got here, but other than that and a wicked chipped tooth from when they darted me, I’ve been left alone. No food. No visitors. Nothing. So I tried that thing Su said, about making a terrifying situation less terrifying by doing something ridiculous. I’ve been singing.”
“Singing.” I laugh. “Not screaming.”
“Show tunes, nineties punk rock, and Korean rap. Now I kind of feel insulted actually.”
I push away from him. “You’re telling me you’ve been sitting in an unlocked room with access to scalpels…”
“Gruesome bloody scalpels,” he corrects.
“And it never occurred to you to escape?”
“Sure it did. It also occurred to me that I am a terrible fighter. Did you find Twofer?”
I nod. He lets out a whoop of excitement.
“He goes by ‘Mouse’ now.”
“Mouse? That is not a male name.”
“I know, isn’t it great? Sway, my grand’s here. This whole place is hers, but she said she’d send Mouse to me and he isn’t here and I think Chia is coming and there’s so much I have to tell you. But first we have to go get Mouse. Unless of course you’d like to stay here?”
“Nah, the bloody scalpels and I will always have our fond memories.” He grabs my hand as I untangle from him. “Glori, promise me something?”
“Yes. Anything.”
He leans his forehead against mine but gently this time.
Like we do back home.
“Promise me we’ll never leave each other ever again.”
I smile and quick-brush my nose against his, and just as I’m about to tell him that I do—I promise—all the lights shut off.
There is no ambient or emergency lighting. We are in utter darkness. In a basement.
“At least we’re together now,” I say.
Which is when the voice begins to shout: “LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN.”
“I wonder what mode this is,” Sway shouts.
“LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN.”
He holds on to my shirt as we edge out into the hall. There is a door at the end of this corridor. Hopefully it leads somewhere that goes up. As we inch along, I hold my keycard out in front of me and blindly wave it in the air. A few steps farther, there is a hiss. The door pops open. Beyond it are red emergency lights and a stairwell.
“Thanks be,” I holler.
“Yes, thank you, Glori,” he shouts back. “Geez, you are such a praise seeker.”
I am too grateful to be back around his idiocy to correct him. We take the stairs two at a time back up to the cafeteria floor. Breaker’s maps showed that the apartments on each floor fanned out around a central hub on each level. The yard was the hub on the second floor. The cafeteria was on the third. The theater on the fourth. And so on. The halls leading to the cafeteria are all thoroughly deserted. And in almost every hallway, all the apartment doors are open. All the rooms are empty.
“Glori, I don’t think anyone is here.”
That had been the plan. But Grand had also said no one would be here much longer. I start to run.
Please let them be there, I think. Please.
“LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN. LOCKDOWN.”
When we get to the cafeteria it’s as empty as the rest of the building.
“Mouse!” I yell.
No reply.
“Motor!”
Same.
“No. No, no, no.”
I pick up a chair and lob it across the room. It crashes against the wall. What was I expecting? That Mouse would use his little five-year-old male brain to figure out a way to hide this whole time? That Motor wouldn’t quit on him and that he would figure something out? Well, yes, that’s exactly what I wanted them to do.
