by Corrie Wang
But I only have eyes for Majesty.
“Glori,” Majesty presses, then gestures at Sway. “You think you want this because you don’t know what you are taking us back to. We have been bred to be subservient. Did you know that when beasts and fees were in a car together, the beasts always drove? That we were called the weaker sex? That when an older fee dated a younger beast she was demeaned for it? They called us hysterical in our anger. Aggressive in our firmness. And no matter how ‘honorable’ a beast was, when it got together with its friends, they spoke about and looked at us like we were meat. All the while in our homes we were expected to take on the bulk of the housework and the child-rearing and offer our bodies up at their will without complaint or question and be derided as low performing when we chose not to.
“All that vague waste Matricula spewed about our power being our own? What power? We never had any. We have been in servitude since the dawn of time. And as long as we exist alongside beasts, no matter how much you delete them from our culture or teach young fees effective takedown moves, we always will be. On that, at least, your grand and I agreed.”
Sway holds up his hand. “For the record, I would never compare a fee to meat. I mean, a complicated board game, maybe.”
“A pair of high-heeled shoes,” Comma calls out from the foot of the slide.
“Shut it, beasts,” Majesty says.
“Grand never wanted this,” I say.
“Your grand was the most consistent human I’ve ever met. Even now, you love these beasts, but I’m sure you feel guilt for it. I felt guilt for it when I was on the other side and in a moment of weakness ravaged that beast with the gorgeous red beard.”
“Quarry?” Sway spits. “That’s your type?”
She ignores him. “But not Matricula. She knew what she wanted to do, she knew why, and she went about it without guilt, never losing sight of the goal. Until Two Five came along.”
Majesty glares at him now. I have never seen such hate.
“I told her to send it across. But she insisted on keeping it. Not for me. For you. And the longer Two Five stayed with us, the vaguer Matricula’s waste became. Reading to you both every night…”
“Told you, Glori,” Mouse sniffs. “Every night.”
“Instead of backup plans that involved erasing the beasts, she began talking about relocating them. I decided that to truly start over, we needed a plan that rebooted the entire system.” She rolls her eyes at my confused expression and quickly says, “‘Reboot’ is terminology that related to computers, the internet, and streaming services when the Wi-Fi went down. Just think, Glori, of how lovely it will be to walk alone, at night, in the pitch-black without an ounce of fear. Maybe I will be seen as a villain in all this…”
“Oh, that is certain,” Sway says.
“But I was never meant to be a mother. I was an experiment right from the beginning. I was meant to be the reboot. I am our future. The first child of the god that was Matricula Rhodes. I am the new Adam, and I’m not sharing my rib with anyone.”
“The only problem is,” I press on, “the males you’re killing are not all the same as the males you escaped from all those years ago. You must know that.” I look to all the mercenaries and then to Mouse. “I know you all do.”
“Oh, Glori,” she says softly. “You’re only proving my point as to why your Grand and her court had to go. The beasts are all exactly the same. Ladies, do you mind showing Glori what these males we deemed good did?”
As one, the mercenaries peel off their balaclavas.
“Oh my.” Comma gasps.
Misère’s curls are cropped close to her head in a tight Afro, which does little to hide that she’s missing an eye. The skin around Muerte’s cheek has been badly scarred, not from radiation, but like someone held a flame to her face. But Itami is the worst. Lovely, smooth black hair hangs over the right half of her face, only partially hiding what looks like badly healed, smashed bones. The damage starts from her right cheek, goes over her nose, up to her forehead.
No wonder they so readily embraced becoming killing machines. They were the fees that I’ve heard about my whole life. The ones attacked by the males Matricula allowed onto our island on the night that no fee speaks about because it was too horrific.
“The night we got to the island,” Itami says, “Rabbit said, ‘Let’s play Truth or Dare.’”
“Gorilla brought beers,” Muerte adds. “Made out with Ann, while Pig locked the doors.”
Majesty nods and continues, “Bear’s first question—Bear, whom you know as the illustrious Mayor Chia—Bear’s first question was who shot Fortitude. I told him the truth. It was me. I killed that son of a bitch.”
“Oh my honey-hued horn,” Comma whispers.
“And then they beat you,” I finish.
“Beat us?” Majesty laughs and twirls the katana in her hand. “No. Then they began executing us. Wolf decapitated Hope and Merry with a tomahawk. And no, tomahawks do not make clean cuts. Rabbit carved up Niraasha and Misère. Pig burned Muerte and Ann. Gorilla beat Itami. We fought them off, but we weren’t strong then like we are now. Bear ran. He claimed he was going for help. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Regardless, as of this evening, with Chia gone, they are finally all dead.
“I know we have lost a lot. Maybe our own humanity in the mix. But I am doing this for Chardonnay and AC and Cookie. For all the fees who will come after and who will never, ever have to be held back or held down by beasts.”
“Maj,” Misère murmurs, “you’re getting upset.”
“What happens now?” I ask.
Majesty’s eyes flash with emotion.
“I can’t let you go, little fee. I’m sorry. This is war, and anyone who sides with the beasts must lose. I know I have not been a good mother, but I can make the end quick for you. I can at least do that.”
“Majesty, that is enough,” Itami says, then sends Mouse down the slide to Comma. “Our mission has always been to protect our own at all costs. Glori is our own. That little one”—she points at Mouse—“is our own. I’ve watched him grow. We’ve all raised him. He is no different than a fee.”
“Itami is right. What is the point of all this sacrifice,” Muerte adds, “if we end up here? Murdering our loved ones? There has been enough death today.”
Now they approach her. Not to hurt her but to stop her nonetheless. Faster than a termite infestation, Majesty swings her katana and cuts Muerte across her chest. As Mouse shouts for her not to, Itami advances. Majesty throws the katana away, reaches behind her, and pulls a gun from a holster behind her lower back.
“If you’re not with us, you’re against us.”
But she doesn’t aim for the mercenaries.
Instead she points the gun at my heart and fires.
Like Mouse rolling into a ball whenever we ran defensive drills, instead of being useful and trying to dodge the bullet, I close my eyes and brace for death. The billy club clatters to my feet. But I do not feel any pain. I do hear a wet rasping sound. When I open my eyes, Sway is at my feet frantically clutching at his abdomen, blood oozing between his fingers. He leapt in front of the bullet.
“No!” Comma screams.
He races up the stairs. Majesty looks at the gun in her hands. Then at Sway. I roar. She trains the gun back on me. Before she can fire, she is falling backward off the slide. Her arms pinwheeling frantically in the air. Liyan has crawled up behind her and swiped her ankles out from beneath her.
“Waaaaste… !” Majesty shouts, then drops from sight.
A moment later, there is the horrible thump of a body hitting the ground.
Then there is nothing.
As Liyan collapses, I sink down to Sway. Comma already has his head in his lap. Itami is rocking Mouse at the foot of the slide.
“Someone go for help!” I scream.
“Glori.” Sway looks down at his belly, then up at me, and gives me a wobbly smile. “I met my mom.”
I get it then. Exactly what life i
s. It is nothing. We are here and then we are gone. And all the drama we get into, the passions we fall in and out of, the friendships we make and break, they are supposed to impart significance. But there is no significance. Life is lovely, awful, and fleeting. The only power we truly have is how we choose to face it.
“At least now I won’t steal your snapbacks anymore, Com,” he says.
“You can have them all, you silly goit,” Comma murmurs, stroking his hair. “Don’t you dare leave me, or I swear I will bury you in a polo shirt and khaki pants.”
Sway clutches my hand. I kiss it. Then I kiss his thin lips. His smooth forehead. Then I finally, finally, kiss the freckle that is right below his eye. When I do, he whispers something so quiet, I wouldn’t have heard him if my ear hadn’t been right next to his mouth.
“Glori, I don’t regret a second of knowing you…” He gulps air; it is meant to be laughter. “Okay… maybe this part. You are very everything.”
And then his eyes flutter closed.
When you don’t know what to do or where to go, you go home.
Only I didn’t know where that was anymore.
While Eugenie, Breaker, and Su dispensed the vaccine at the bridge, Reason rode through the city in the ambulance, distributing it to anyone left alive. But Buffalo is a large city and males didn’t believe in habitation zones and Rage wasn’t able to prevent all the mob from attacking norms. Or vice versa.
When he was out of vaccine, Reason went to Quarry and tried to convince him not to retaliate. But in this critical moment, the Influencer had no influence. Two days after we escaped from the Fortress, Quarry and a small group of surviving norms arrived in armored Humvees at the remaining Grand Island Bridge with rocket launchers, grenades, and assault rifles looking to avenge the deaths of their families and friends.
“You will pay for this,” Mouse’s father shouted through a bullhorn.
And then they all drove forward.
Fees blew the bridge when the males were halfway across.
Thanks to the Rinspeed and multiple trips, our small group had fled the island the day before. We watched the bridge explode from the rooftop of the steam station. Shortly after, in the faint morning sun, there were bright bursts of colorful lights. Fireworks, Liyan said. I couldn’t help wondering which fee had stashed them away all these years just waiting for the downfall of men.
That was many days ago now. I haven’t been down on the ground since. Part of me wants to go home. We’ve heard Grand Island is primarily empty. It turns out we weren’t the only family that had an emergency boat stashed at the shore. Eugenie is governing now, and she’s relocated most of the fee families to the exact same mansions that Chia had cleared for us. They are ideally located, spacious, and well preserved. Just as with the divide, not all fees went with her. A few defected, choosing to take their chances out in the wild world rather than stay in a city that reeked of fresh death, and live with fees who might or might not be complicit murderers.
I am vaguely curious to see what the fees plan to do with Buffalo, how well this new society works. How much power they allow the few surviving males. But for now, pulling up the ladders is all I can stand. I want nothing more than to sit on this roof as I am now, with my glass of sun tea, remembering the dead and being thankful for the living.
Mending, Liyan calls it.
Honestly, there isn’t a lot of time for even that.
Living with three children makes thinking about anything other than feeding, clothing, and reprimanding them a luxury. I see now why fees set up cohabitation families. It takes at least four adults to maintain any semblance of sanity around little ones. From what I hear, the fees don’t have their hands any less full having absorbed the Littles, the Fortress males, and soon the newborns from the labs. I like to pretend I can hear all those young voices on the wind, that they mean we have a new happy future ahead of us. I can’t say it always works.
Even as I have the thought, the roof door crashes open.
I reach for Baby Bear, the only knife I have left, but then a wiggly black blur with four white paws shoots out and runs straight to me. A male comes out behind him, sitting on his hover board. I wonder if there will ever be a day when I do not reach for Baby Bear at the sound of a loud noise or when I step into a dark room.
Probably not. And I’m okay with that.
There’s so much to protect now.
“Don’t go getting all stabby,” the male says. “It’s only us.”
As Lucky sprawls at my feet, imploring me to rub his belly, the male scoots from the hover board to my bench. A long time ago, someone carved JB Loves LB into the wood seat. He runs his fingers over the lettering. The first night we were back, Reason and I moved the bench away from the edge of the building and placed it at the heart of the orchard instead. The fruit trees had begun to shoot out bright green leaf clusters. It was going to be a magnificent show. Plus, I think we all needed to be a little more inward facing. Literally. No one wanted to look out on the city now. So much of it had been destroyed.
“Breaker’s here.”
“Visiting the puppies?” I ask.
“Yeah. Rage dropped him off. He said the fees got the solar fields at the farms back up and running.”
I shrug. “Good for them.”
“You can’t be mad forever. What happened wasn’t any of their faults. And they took in all those Littles and Fortress males like it was nothing. Besides, we still have so much.”
Except I was so close to having nothing.
He holds his arm out to me, and I curl into the warmth and safety of it.
Grand always told me that there was passion and there was love. And the two things should not be confused, though they often were, to disastrous consequences. Passion, Grand said, was sensational, like a burst of lightning. Gorgeous, vibrant, but fleeting. She said it could strike interchangeably among any number of people. Whether they liked it or not. Beasts craved the heat of passion and often were blinded by the brightness of it. It was what made them so unreliable, so fickle.
Love, on the other hand, was like a stream. It was tricky and complicated, winding this way and that. It ebbed and flowed depending on the season. It was entirely possible to hate a person you loved—Grand especially told me this whenever Su and I fought—because love changed with time, but regardless, it would always be there, a current that never ran dry.
I hardly know anything anymore about how the world works, but I know I love this boy.
“I love you, Shui.”
It’s been about a month, and not one single day has passed that I’m not still surprised he’s alive. He kisses the top of my head. “And I love you, Gloria. Still. Now. Always. Even though it’s only been a whole five minutes since the last time you told me.”
He can tease me all he wants.
I will never waste the chance to tell someone I love them ever again.
We have Motor to thank for the fact that Sway is alive. When I walked up the slide to square off against the mercenaries, Motor told Mouse to stay put, then, like the hero he was born to be, he raced back to the Mustang and drove it through the remaining front windows of the labs, where he told the first techs he saw to grab emergency medical supplies. That I was fighting the ones in the red and was definitely going to die.
Luckily, his utter lack of confidence in me meant that when Majesty shot Sway, Amelia and Frida were already running toward us with bandages and a blood transfusion kit.
“Sooo,” Sway says, “what would you say if I asked you to close your eyes and come with me and not ask why, because we might have a surprise for you?”
“I’d say I knew it was too quiet.”
Sway’s kid sister, Su, still PTTs her friends daily. She says now that fees have access to the males’ broadcasting tower, Eugenie has already picked up signals from other cities. Faraway places, with strange-sounding names like Omaha and Minneapolis. Su says that Eugenie is worried people will come looking for us, that she and her common council
are discussing continuing Rugged’s weapons program. Su says this to Comma mostly. She and I are still a little wary around each other. Though I understand why she kept so many things from me, I can’t quite accept it. But we’ll get back to where we were. Life’s too short not to.
Comma says there’s enough supplies on the rooftop to last us at least a year. Reason says we should try somewhere new. “The Magic Kingdom,” Motor always interjects. “It’s the most magical place on earth and Mickey lives there.”
“Lived,” we all correct.
Regardless, Reason says, we should find a place that doesn’t have our history. But then Liyan reminds us that wherever we go, whomever we meet, they’ll simply have a different history and that it will most likely be equally unpleasant.
After the Night, even okay people did bad things.
Now Sway gently knocks on my temple with his fist.
“You’re stuck in there again,” he says.
Before I can reply, he struggles to his feet. Behind him, a partially blue sky is visible through the haze. This morning the thermometer outside the kitchen window said it was already eighty-seven degrees outside.
“Come on, this is a good surprise. I promise.”
With Lucky in the lead, we cut through the wheat field on the hidden path but then veer in the opposite direction of the garage with all the cars and motorbikes.
“Coming in hot,” Sway calls out.
In reply, there is giggling and Comma shushing everyone. Sway tells me to close my eyes and then pulls me from the wheat.
“Surprise!” my family shouts.
“You can open your eyes now,” Motor says, sounding like he’s eating. “Duh.”
Motor is always eating. Since we crossed the river, he’s already gained ten pounds. I open my eyes and immediately look at Sway.
“Is this real?”
He nods, then lightly tugs on my chin. “There it is.”
He means my smile. I never thought I’d find it again. But there is no not smiling at the spectacle in front of me. We’re standing on a part of the roof I have never seen. All my mees—Mouse, Motor, Hercules, Reason, even Breaker—are standing in a line in their underwear, giggling. Comma has on a robe, which he now drops, to reveal bright blue chest hair and tight matching blue swim trunks with sparkly silver stars on them.
