by T. C. Edge
“Brie, you’ve been to Inner Haven before. So, up you come. Show these girls how to walk.”
Well played, Sophie. Clear revenge for my slouching and unpleasant table manners.
With a hint of crimson dancing on my cheeks, I stand and walk to the front. Up and down I go, attempting to move with a grace and elegance that’s so alien to me, while putting on an artificial smile that would make the occupants of this room proud.
I think I do a rather good job, all things considered. Still, Sophie sees fit to offer an array of hints and tips until I get it right, bringing sniggers from the audience. Eventually, after what seems like a hundred or so laps of the room, I appear to have won her over.
The other ladies have less trouble. A quick circuit and they’re all back in their seats.
The afternoon of humiliation continues with further role-plays and little enactments. We’re all forced to come back to the front and act out little scenarios, such as how to behave when meeting certain classes of Enhanced, or how certain behaviours should be modified depending on where in Inner Haven we are.
Naturally, the closer you get to the centre of the Spiral, the more important it is to uphold the strictest of etiquettes. This one I pay closer attention to. If I’m to infiltrate the High Tower, I’m going to need to know precisely how to conduct myself.
Still, it’s a torturous and uncomfortable afternoon, and by the time evening dawns, I’m itching to go back to the academy.
Sophie stops me as I gravitate towards the exit to the building.
“And where do you think you’re going?” she asks.
“Home. I can’t stand it here any longer.”
I’m nothing if not honest.
“Oh no, Brie, you must have misunderstood. You’ll be staying here tonight. As I said, this is a training house for ladies seeking to marry up. Some of these girls have been living here for days, or even weeks now.”
“Well…good for them. I’m going home. You can pick me up at the academy tomorrow,” I say dismissively.
I turn to the door and feel a whoosh of air as she swoops in to stop me. Jeez, what is she, some kind of Dasher?!
Her hand grips my wrist as it hovers over the door handle.
“Brie, you’re NOT going home,” she simmers. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me with such disdain. You seem to think yourself superior to me, and all these girls here. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re no better than any of us.”
She glares at me through glowing red slits. I’m forced to recoil.
“Alright, alright…I’ll stay,” I say. “Wow, Sophie, I didn’t know you had it in you. I’m impressed.”
“Well,” she says, righting herself and easing back. “Sometimes you need to put the hammer down. I know you’ve hated today, Brie, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude. I’m only here to help you, and I’m only doing my job.”
I lower my gaze and bite my bottom lip.
“Sorry. You’re right, Sophie. I’m not usually like this. It’s just…I’ve been through a lot lately. And this is well outside my comfort zone.”
Her muted expression returns to life, a more natural smile creasing her lips.
“I understand. The transition isn’t easy, especially if you’re unprepared for it. All these girls have been working towards this their entire lives. You could even say they were bred for it. But you’ll get it eventually, Brie. I know you didn’t take the tests, but I can tell how smart you are. I’m sure you’ll make a fine wife to whoever picks you tomorrow night.”
“So…you think I’ll be picked?” I ask, forgetting myself for a second.
“I can all but guarantee it,” she smiles, scooping her arm around mine. “Now come on, let’s have some dinner, and talk some more. And don’t worry about the other girls. They’re just not used to a girl like you.”
She leads me from the door, from my escape from this place. I look upon it longingly for a few more moments, before turning my eyes back down the hall.
And back into the nest of snakes I go…
6
The next day I wake with a searing headache. It pulses from inside my skull and spreads to my eyes, which burn as the harsh lights of my room begin to glow.
Sophie appears in the doorway, her fingers on the light switch. At least I got a room to myself.
“Rise and shine, Brie,” comes her voice, bright and breezy and cutting into my head like daggers. “Today’s the big day!”
I squint through narrow slots and raise my head up from the pillow.
“Are you alright?” she asks, stepping in and shutting the door. “You look rather pale.”
“My head,” I mumble. “It’s killing me.”
“Ah, I see, a common problem on mornings like this. It’s the nerves. Here, take these.”
She moves in, pulling a little bottle of pills from her pocket. I’m passed two, and swallow them without water.
She performs a closer inspection of my face.
“Hmmm, perhaps a double dose for you.”
Another two journey down my throat.
“They should kick in over the next half hour. Have a shower and get dressed, and you’ll feel right as rain. If you need to, take breakfast to gather your senses. Don’t worry, it’s quite normal. Many girls lose their appetites the day of the bachelor ball.”
“And what’s happening after breakfast?” I groan.
“Fittings for your dresses. Then we’ll be running over everything one final time – don’t worry, it’s just a summary – before getting you all ready for the ball. It’s so exciting, isn’t it!” she squeaks. I grimace at the lofty pitch of her voice. “Oh…sorry. I’ll leave you alone, Brie. I’ll be back in an hour, OK.”
I nod and shut my eyes, pulling the blanket over my head and disappearing into the darkness. Moments later, the room plunges back into black, and the door shuts tight, cutting off all sound.
All, of course, except the heavy throbbing in my ears.
Mercifully, however, the double dose of painkillers does its job, partially at least. While a lingering headache remains, my brain begins to loosen up and the sensitivity of my eyes subsides as the drugs take effect.
By the time Sophie returns, I’ve managed to shower and dress and feel markedly better.
The next couple of hours are spent finding the perfect dress to fit our frames. We gather in a room filled with them, all lined up against the wall, and are asked one by one to give our dress sizes.
When it comes to me, I get ready to plead ignorance, and prepare for the inevitable round of sniggering from the girls.
Thankfully, Sophie is on hand to help me out.
“Brie, I already know your size, don’t worry,” she says. “I have a dress picked out that should fit you perfectly.”
She gives me a little smile, before moving onto the next girl.
Once she’s jotted down our measurements, she sets about distributing dresses. Most are very similar in size, given the slender shapes of the ladies here, but may need to be adjusted at certain points to ensure they fit just perfectly.
They are, however, all the same. The same light shade of blue that all Unenhanced wear in Inner Haven, and rather simple and yet elegant in design. No frills or unnecessary flourishes adorn them. They are very much in keeping with what I’ve come to expect from the world across the wall.
Once we’ve all been fully fitted, it’s back to the classroom for a summation of yesterday’s teachings. Looking around the room, I see the creeping tendrils of anxiety beginning to appear on otherwise excited faces. The atmosphere, too, begins to grow heavy with nerves as the hours pass by.
Following lunch – during which few consume more than a few bites – we’re taken outside and down the street to the same beauty parlour I visited before my first excursion to Inner Haven.
A flock of beauty technicians gather us in and set us on seats, before getting started on our hair and makeup. The latter is all the same, each of us p
ainted in precisely the same manner. Again, like with the dresses, the final product is simple and yet sophisticated.
Our hair, meanwhile, is presented as similarly as it can be. Mostly, the girls have shoulder length hair or thereabouts, although the colours vary from bright blonde to jet black, with most stuck somewhere in between.
The consistency, too, varies from girl to girl. Some have locks as straight as arrows, others with thick curls that flow like a waterfall. In the end, the beauticians do what they can to ensure we look as similar as possible, a frightening thing to witness when I turn to the mirror and see the faces looking back.
It’s like we’ve been turned into clones. An army of women set to go forth and procreate, to deliver fresh children to the ranks of the Enhanced.
My stomach churns at the sight and thought. And my headache, hovering in the background, begins to battle once more to the fore.
I feel sick to look at us.
Sophie, meanwhile, is of a totally different disposition. In fact, we all look just like her now.
She beams upon seeing us all, and cups her palms together.
“Oh, ladies, you look delicious. The finest batch I’ve ever cooked up, if I might say so myself!”
The other girls beam along with her, mimicking her smile. I can’t bring myself to do the same. Amid a bright blue sky of sunny faces, I must appear as a lonely black cloud.
And, like the rest, I begin to feel the nerves building as the day progresses and the afternoon shifts along at a quickening pace. Soon enough, we’re back at the training house and climbing into our dresses, readying ourselves for the short journey to the inner sanctum of the city.
Outside, a series of long vehicles line up, blacked out like Sophie’s car and waiting to transport us to the ball. After a final pep talk from Sophie in the hallway, we step onto the streets to something of a fanfare.
I’m shocked to find the roads filled with people, a sizeable host having gathered to see us off. I see some of the girls beaming at certain individuals, making me think that a large portion of them are family members and friends.
Instinctively, my eyes run over the faces to see if Tess or Mrs Carmichael are present. The mere fact that such a thought entered my mind is ludicrous. I chuckle to myself as I near the cars and prepare to step in.
Yet, one person does draw my eye. Hidden amid the throng, I note a cloaked figure watching me, eyes shining beneath his hood. He looks quite out of place among the well-manicured members of the southern quarter, but serves to draw the only natural smile to my face since I entered this part of town.
Zander and I share a quick look, and he offers the tiniest of nods, before disappearing into the sea of bodies once more.
I suppose Lady Orlando sent him to check up on me or something. After all, she did say they’d be keeping their eyes on me…
I’m rather happy for it, though. The mere sight of my brother sets my mind back to the task, reinforcing what I’m here to do. This is a mission, nothing more. And tonight I take my first step into the abyss.
And so, as the crowd cheer us off, we all enter the convoy of cars, and begin whirring away northwards towards the nearest gateway along the wall. Sat with another four girls, I turn my eyes to the window and do nothing but look out. At the neon lights drenching the streets. At the people, all of them different, all of them unique. At the vibrant, busy world I’ve inhabited all my life.
I flash my eyes to the girls, all chatting excitedly in a group and buoyed by the send-off, and find it hard to make out who’s who.
Over the last couple of days, I’ve heard all their names. A few have stuck – Amelie, Jasmine, Nadine, Bridgette. Yet looking upon them now, those names could belong to just about any of them.
They’re dressed the same. They look the same. They sound and act the same. Preparing for life among the Enhanced, it seems, comes down to a single thing: turning away from your own identity. Forging yourself into a clone.
And what troubles me the most, is that they all do it so willingly. For so many around here, this is the greatest of honours, the highest of callings. To join the superior race, and give life to superior children.
Slowly but surely, we’re being phased out. Marrying up. Reconditioning. Creating Con-Cops and other slaves. All methods by which the Consortium are reducing our numbers, and growing their own.
It’s all been before my eyes all along, I just didn’t see it. Incremental changes, performed over decades, designed to indoctrinate an entire people.
And if we don’t stop the rot, soon enough there’ll be no normal humans left. As it is when any superior species is born, those they left behind don’t last long.
And right here in Outer Haven, the Neanderthal dwells.
I turn back away from the girls. I can’t stand to look at them. My eyes drift to the looming wall as we approach and pass through, and the outer street of the Spiral as we join it, cruising around and circling the city as we edge closer to the core.
The girls gasp and glue their eyes to the windows, looking upon it all for the first time. Their chatter slows at first as they do nothing but gawp, before picking up again soon after as we venture deeper into the cold confines of Inner Haven.
They try to pick out people on the streets, wondering what sort of Enhanced they are. They look upon men, who themselves all dress and look so similar, and wonder who they’re set to meet this evening.
As we drift around the coiling street, and the buildings gets more grand and impressive, they begin to bicker, each suggesting that they’ll find the best husband, that they’ll live in the largest home, that they’ll breed the finest children.
Sophie said it wasn’t a competition, but these girls are most certainly competitive.
I don’t engage with them. I merely stare at the surroundings and think again of who I really am. When we reach the final leg of the Inner Spiral, the sight of Savants appears, flowing about with dull eyes and faces, an alien race that part of me is born from.
The girls ogle them in wonder; little knowing that one sits beside them. It’s a thought that would never compute in their minds, just as it doesn’t in mine.
I begin to wonder: when my gifts start to appear, and when my body starts to change, will I lose my emotions as they do? Will I become an empty vessel, lacking the emotions that make us human?
Were in not for my brother having walked this path before me, such concerns might be valid. As it is, they’re little more than bubbles on an otherwise flat lake, popping as they break the surface and disappearing for good.
And yet, somewhere at the bottom of that lake, a fissure is burning.
And those bubbles continue to rise…
7
Compton’s Hall is so named after the woman who devised the concept of the bachelor ball, Layla Compton.
According to Sophie, she was a Savant of some esteem, who made it her life’s duty to learn how to best integrate the Enhanced and Unenhanced, and ensure that the numbers of Enhanced didn’t dwindle.
As one of the founding members of the Council of Matrimony, she began the system of scouting and testing to find suitable Outer Haveners to promote. Among the Enhanced, she’s considered an important figure.
I don’t see her in the same light.
Of course, the hall that took her name is, like all Savants, a rather drab place. Gathering outside on the southern side of the Innermost Spiral, and with the High Tower looming above us, I look upon the square structure with a flat expression that would make any Savant proud.
If they could feel pride.
With white walls and not a hint of colour, it carries very few embellishments but for the pillars that line the entranceway. Beyond them, large doors of sleek metal offer passage into the foyer, and the main hall itself beyond.
I know all of this from Sophie’s teachings and the pictures of the hall she mounted on the slideshow. Seeing it in real life makes it no more interesting.
The other girls, on the other hand, are looki
ng around open-mouthed and wide-eyed. However, it’s not Compton’s Hall that’s attracting their attention, but the High Tower itself, soaring into the low clouds above.
That I can understand. The High Tower is a frankly magnificent structure, and while I’ve seen it before, it’s no less fascinating on second viewing. Its sheer scale is astonishing, and its circular shape and domed roof – invisible today with the low collection of clouds – are quite striking from an architectural standpoint.
As the girls gaze upon it, Sophie hovers over to me, and delivers a subtle little wink. I suppose, given how we’ve been here together before, it’s supposed to signify some sort of affinity or bond between us.
“How is it being back here, Brie?” she asks. “Excited?”
“I can barely contain myself,” I say flatly.
“Goodness me. If you can’t get excited about this, then I fear for you, I truly do.”
“Hard to get excited when you know the outcome,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ve just got a bad headache is all.”
“Still? Oh, I’m sorry, Brie, that’s terrible. Here, gulp these down and they’ll get you through. What a shame…usually these pills are enough to knock any ache on the head all day, if you’ll excuse the pun.”
She hands me a couple more pills. They’re speedily swallowed.
“Right, ladies,” calls Sophie, turning to the girls. “It’s time to go inside to the foyer. You’ll be addressed by Mrs Humbert and ticked off the list along with all the other entrants. You know the rest, we’ve been through it plenty of times. Now come on, follow me, the High Tower isn’t going anywhere.”
The girls reluctantly drag their eyes from the colossal structure and we begin moving towards the hall. Passing the pillars, other groups of girls join us, led by their own versions of Sophie.
The crowd gets bigger as we reach the doors and pass through into the lobby, the room filled with an endless stream of false smiles and blue dresses. I feel like little more than a bee in a hive, identical to the rest and buzzing about in little teams of twenty.
