by Megan Hart
Tobin felt a stirring of pity for the old man before him, but he fought it. “I do understand, Reb Ephraim. I can’t even imagine what two thousand people must be like. I grew up in a tiny town. There was only me, Old Ma and Old Pa and my aunts Heather and Francie. They were all really old, even when I was young. And they all died, one by one.”
Tobin was embarrassed to hear his own voice turn raspy with emotion. “I was alone for almost a year before a peddler came to Eastport. He told me about California. He said there were babies being born there. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I wanted to find…someone. Anyone, really, but I also wanted to find someone for me. I want to have a family. I want to see babies. I want to have children, if I can.”
“But Tobin,” Reb Ephraim said with the first genuine smile Tobin had seen from him. “You can have that here.
”
−12-
This was the man Chedva had thought was so cute, Elanna thought. She looked carefully at him sleeping, his dark lashes casting sooty shadows on golden cheeks. He’d been in the sun. Not many people in the Tribe had that glow, unless they worked on the rooftops, in the gardens. Even those whose ancestors had been brown-skinned were dark from heritage, not time in the sun.
Purple bruises, some already fading to yellow and green, marred the smoothness of his skin in many places. His right cheek was heavily scratched, the wound scabbed and ugly. She found herself hoping it wouldn’t leave a scar.
His hair was dark, too, and sleek against his head. A little longish, perhaps, falling over his eyes, but that could be cut. His brows were fine and dark, his cheeks high, and his nose was not too thin or too broad. He was cute. She wished she knew what color his eyes were.
She’d know as soon as he woke up, but Elanna didn’t want to shake him just yet. For now it was enough to watch him sleep, his chest rising and falling regularly, his lips parted slightly. He was handsome, and she would have to have his hands on her soon, but she just wasn’t ready.
She’d never minded having appointments with travelers before. Even the ugliest ones served a purpose, and most were so grateful to be allowed access to her bed they treated her like a queen. They gave good gifts, too, items that were scarce around here. It was a good bargain; her body for a few minutes of disinterested grappling in return for a new pair of socks or even something special like a candy bar. Some of the peddlers and passers-through were handsome and talented lovers and so she got even more out of the deal.
Something had changed within herself, she thought, preparing the needle and syringe by rubbing them thoroughly with alcohol. She laid them on the clean white cloth still smelling of bleach and picked up the Geneto-Tester, its casing so worn she could no longer see the numbers on the dials. It didn’t matter. She’d used it often enough that she could tell by feel what settings to use.
Her thoughts of running away had faded with the past two days. Replacing them was a subtle sort of despair that left her tired and disinterested in everything. She didn’t know what she was going to do, and she felt more on edge than ever.
For now, though, she’d been ordered to keep an appointment with this newcomer. It was the Reb’s way of rewarding him and convincing him to help the Tribe. It was also just a standard procedure to try and get fresh bloodlines started within the Tribe.
She finished with the Geneto-Tester and readied the Communicable Diseases Monitor. She didn’t need the first one, since she was already pregnant, but she still had to test him for the records. If she didn’t, someone would ask why. Both machines were worn and worked only erratically, but she tapped the CDM lightly with one finger until the LED screen flickered. Someday it would stop working all together, just like everything else. And there would be no more. What would they do then?
“What are you doing?”
Startled, she nearly dropped the palm-sized machine. It clattered against the side of the table, the screen going black. Elanna mumbled a curse, aware that her hands were shaking.
“You’re awake!” She let the CDM rest alongside her other tools.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” He stretched, revealing bare arms finely etched with muscle. He scratched his fingers through his hair, rumpling it.
“Did you sleep well?” Elanna asked. His eyes were dark, like his hair. When they met hers, the hair on the back of her neck rose, making her shiver. Feigning disinterest, she fussed with the tray.
“Better. The aspirin helped.”
She looked at him again, her eyebrows raised. “They gave you aspirin?”
He smiled, a slow grin that lit his eyes and gave them a glow like sun through honey. Her mouth dried. Elanna took an inadvertent step back, as though his smile could burn her.
“I must be special, huh?”
“We don’t have much aspirin left. Your injuries must have been severe.”
He touched his face. “They’re not so bad.”
They just looked at each other, him with a puzzled look in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine her expression. She could only hope it didn’t look as hungry as she suddenly felt.
Heart pounding, she turned back to her tray. She’d had hundreds of appointments with men handsomer than this one. What was so special about him?
Was it because of what he knew? What he could do for the Tribe? She forced her fingers to stay steady as she prepared the alcohol swab she’d need to clean the needle when she was done. Reb Ephraim had told her Tobin knew nothing of their customs. That he came from someplace far away, and that he’d been alone for a long time. Was it because he seemed so…innocent?
“What’s your name?” Tobin asked.
“Elanna.”
“That’s pretty.”
She surprised herself by smiling. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing, Elanna?”
Of course, she thought. He didn’t know.
“I’m preparing the Geneto-Tester and the CDM – The Communicable Diseases Monitor.”
She showed him the tray and the white cloth, the needle and syringe, the shot glass of alcohol and the two small machines. His brow furrowed, creasing some of the small scratches there. He frowned, looking at the tray and then back to her with a wariness that hadn’t been there before. She couldn’t pretend that seeing it didn’t make her uncomfortable, but why should it bother him? Even if he was unused to the Tribe’s ways, certainly he couldn’t argue with the tests’ necessity?
“You’ll need to be tested,” she said. “Before we have our appointment, I mean. I need to make sure you’re clean and that we’re compatible.”
His mouth worked for a moment before he spoke. “Clean, how? What do you mean, compatible?”
She shook her head uncertainly. How could he not know? Even the most widely traveled peddlers knew about the tests. Where had he come from that people didn’t need to worry about such things?
“Your blood,” she said, and watched his expression slam further shut. He looked like he was going to start yelling, or bolt from the bed, so she talked faster to soothe him. “I have to test it for disease, make sure you don’t have anything that could be passed along. And the same with the Geneto-Tester – it types you out. To see if you have any genetic defects that could be inherited, or any anomalies that might cause problems when matched with my geno-makeup…”
“Wait, wait, wait.” He shook his head and glared at her. She took another step back. “For what? Why do you need to know this stuff?”
She looked at him blankly. “There’s no sense in having an appointment if the baby will inherit a faulty geno-structure, or if you give me some disease…”
“Stop.” He held up his hands as if warding off a blow, and then looked at her intensely. Though his gaze was no longer warm, it still made her tingle. Uncomfortably, but unavoidably. “Go back. What did you just say?”
Was he hard of hearing? Deafness would only be a problem if it were genetic and not resulting from an accident or disease. “We don’t need to waste an appointment if the baby would inherit…”
<
br /> “Baby?” He broke in. A light of understanding glimmered in the dark eyes that were mesmerizing her. “You mean…an appointment is…?”
She waited for him to finished, but he didn’t. “I’m a hopemother, Tobin.”
Now it was his turn to stare at her blankly. Could he really not know? She felt a warmth in her belly that she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to. He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. And why did that make this seem so much more special?
“A hopemother can have babies. It’s my job to have babies,” she told him proudly. “I’m the best here.”
The change in his eyes was subtle, but she saw it. She couldn’t quite identify it, though. He looked away before she had the chance to figure it out.
“You mean you want to…to have sex with me?” His voice cracked. She thought she saw his hands shaking before he slipped them back beneath the sheet.
“Well, yes,” Elanna said matter of factly. “How else do you expect me to get pregnant?”
“But I don’t even know you,” Tobin whispered as though he meant to speak louder but wasn’t able to.
Before she could stop it, the laugh burst out. She didn’t mean to make fun of him, she really didn’t. She just had never heard such an absurd statement before.
“What difference does that make?”
“It makes a difference to me,” Tobin muttered, and she instantly felt sorry she had laughed at him.
“Well, it doesn’t have to,” she said, trying to make him feel better. “I’ll take care of you, Tobin. I know what I’m doing.”
He looked as though she’d poked him in the eye unexpectedly. Blinking, Tobin shook his head as though in disbelief. Uncertainly, still wanting to reassure him, Elanna continued.
“I really am the best. I’ve caught pregnant twenty times.” Elanna couldn’t keep the pride from her voice. “I’ve had thirteen children. Eleven lived. That’s some kind of record, you know. I --”
“Get out.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. “What?”
“I said,” Tobin repeated deliberately, “get out.”
“What?” Elanna repeated, knowing she sounded stupid but completely confused. She took a step toward him, but the look on his face forced her to stop. He stared at her like he was looking at something that had died and been left to rot in the sun. He was looking at her with disgust.
“Get out!”
The shout followed her as she fled the room, echoing even after she’d slammed the door behind her. Tears scalded her eyes, and she thought for one crazy moment she might vomit. She sagged against the wall, trying to catch her breath and calm herself down.
Nobody had ever rejected her before. No one.
−13-
In the three days since he’d ordered the girl from his room, Tobin had been lost about a dozen times. And he hadn’t yet ventured out of the main complex! It was huge, a veritable warren of rooms for washing, eating and eliminating, other rooms for sleeping and gathering and entertaining, more rooms for functions he didn’t even know. All of this on merely the first two floors of a building Reb Ephraim had told him once housed the city’s largest department store.
The Tribe had additional holdings outside the main complex, places for people to live and work and go to school, but most of the main living was done inside. Even those people who made their homes in apartments around the Main Hall came there for most meals, and to visit with friends.
Now Tobin needed to find Reb Ephraim and the Beit Din’s office. It was supposed to be down this hall and to the left, past the kitchen. There were at least five doors, though, none of them marked. He’d knocked on one and interrupted an appointment. He didn’t want to knock again until he was sure he had the right place.
He still wasn’t used to seeing so many people, though he’d gotten better at hiding his astonishment. He didn’t want to keep walking around all the time with his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He stood out enough as it was. He couldn’t walk into a room without a dozen voices calling out greetings to him, and he was lucky if he’d even met half of the people saying hello. Luckier if he could remember their names.
He didn’t have trouble remembering the girl’s name. Elanna. He’d seen her around, mostly from across the room, but she’d never come over to him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. He’d only been with the Tribe for a week, but he’d learned enough of their ways to know he’d badly insulted her.
He winced inwardly, even now, thinking about it. He’d been an imbecile to react the way he’d had, but just hearing her rattle off the statistics as though she had something to brag about had turned his stomach. Except now, knowing how the Tribe lived, he knew Elanna did have something to brag about.
“Tobin! Come on in. I’ve been waiting for you.” The door at the end of the hall opened, and Reb Ephraim peered out.
Once inside, Tobin refused the Reb’s offer of a seat. The room was small but clean, lit only by one dim lantern and a series of flickering candles that smelled like cooking oil. It was dominated by a large desk and chair, with several smaller chairs arranged in a semi-circle around the front of the desk.
“Books,” Tobin said, ignoring everything else in favor of the floor-to ceiling shelves that lined the back wall. They were filled with rows of books.
Reb Ephraim looked over his shoulder as he sat down behind the desk. “Yes.”
Tobin hadn’t seen anyone with books since he’d been here. He hadn’t been allowed access to his pack, so he hadn’t even been able to read the ones he’d brought from home. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed them.
“I haven’t seen any other books around here.”
The Reb looked at the wall. “That’s because we don’t have many books. They’re special and precious.”
Tobin didn’t disagree. “But people can read. Can’t they?”
The Reb laughed heartily. “Of course we can read, Tobin. We’re not Savages or Bridgers. We have textbooks. We have our Torah, our Tanach, our holy books. What you see here are the last books, anyway, unless the gatherers bring in more. And those are immediately used in ways that better benefit the Tribe.”
“What can you do with a book besides read it?”
“The Tribe has been through some dark times,” Reb Ephraim said. “Before we managed to find a way to hold ourselves together, lots of things were destroyed. When winter came and people had no heat, or any way to cook their food, what did they use? Anything they could burn. Books are scarce around here, and if there are any found, they’re usually broken down and used to make paper. We have a wonderful recycling program. We need to.”
Tobin thought about the hours he’d spent with a book as his only companion. After Old Pa’s eTablet had run out of batteries with none to replace them, books were all that was left. He’d made friends with Huckleberry Finn and Harry Potter. He’d fallen in love with Scarlett O’Hara and Clarice Starling. Even in the coldest Maine winters, it would never have occurred to any of them to burn books.
Reb steepled his fingers on the desk, looking grave. “Tobin, I know that your greeting wasn’t the best representation of life here, but you’ve been here for a week now. Our gatherers have been preparing to make the trip to the warehouse. Have you changed your mind about staying?”
Tobin hadn’t actually made up his mind. He liked the meals. He liked the soft bed. He liked the company...and the babies. Of course, there were babies here. He just didn’t really like how they were made.
“We’re a thriving community, Tobin. We have limited resources. Each and every person in the Tribe performs a function valid and necessary for the survival of the whole tribe. Can we expect you to contribute?”
“If life’s so tough here -- ” And he knew it was, for despite the many luxuries he’d lacked in Eastport they at least hadn’t been forced to live in darkness, piled on top of each other, “why don’t people ever just light out on their own? Don’t people ever just want to leave? Or don’t they ask questi
ons from people who are passing through? Don’t any of you people wonder what’s out there besides this place?”
Reb Ephraim looked hesitant. “We don’t force them to stay if they want to go, but very few people want to leave. Certainly, some of them ask questions of the few peddlers we get through here, but Tobin, you have to remember something. Even those peddlers are from no farther away than perhaps a week’s travel. As far as I know, we’ve never had anyone from as far away as you’ve come. Our people don’t ask questions simply because they’re not aware that there are any questions to ask.”
“But they know about California,” Tobin said. “At least Ari does, and Asaph.”
