Eve of Man

by Giovanna Fletcher

  Frost is their leader, a man as harsh as the world he lives in. Saunders, ex-EPO, has knowledge that is invaluable. Chubs, Johnny, Nix, and many more names I’m yet to commit to memory, make up Frost’s army, the Freevers.

  I take a moment to scan the room, watching the ten or so Freevers eat, whispering secrets, sharing information. Eve’s name is audible every few seconds and catches my ear, like someone calling my own name.

  “Bram?” A woman’s voice startles me.

  “Yeah, sorry…Helena, isn’t it? I was just…”

  “Daydreaming? Don’t blame you. Any chance you get to be somewhere other than this is worth slipping away for,” she says, tapping the side of her creased, freckled head.

  She lifts the toughened plastic container that’s overflowing with at least a hundred used tins and mugs. I see the veins in her arms pulse as she relocates it to the other side of the room they’re using as a kitchen. She’s physically strong for someone in her early seventies.

  “Ain’t you ever seen a woman lift?” she jokes, flexing her biceps before leaving the room.

  I follow her out, heading back to what has become my room for the foreseeable future.

  As I navigate the seemingly endless corridors, avoiding the drips of floodwater falling from the ceiling at each intersection, I realize I’ve taken a wrong turn.

  “Hello?” I call. My voice is dead in the heavy air.

  Shit. This is all I need. Such a noob.

  “Hey?” a small voice says.

  I turn on the spot to find a head poking out of a doorway about ten meters ahead of me. “Oh, it’s you! The pilot!” he says, lifting the tinted goggles from his eyes.

  “Hi, Johnny.” My heart sinks. He’s the youngest person in the Deep, one of the youngest on the planet even. My guess is that he’s around fourteen, and he’s not left me alone since I arrived, like some sort of Eve fanboy, obsessed with hearing every bit of info, every detail on Eve, Holly, and my father’s inventions.

  “You lost?” he asks.

  No use hiding it, and it’s better bumping into Johnny than Frost! I nod.

  “Come in—you can help me, actually.” His head suddenly disappears inside the room, and the door stays open as he waits for me to follow.

  I sigh and walk in.

  My eyes narrow and I raise my hand to shield them from the light as I enter.

  “Oh, sorry!” he mumbles. “Here, use these!”

  He shoves at me a pair of tinted goggles, like the ones he’s wearing, and I place them over my eyes before the light melts my retinas.

  “Better?” he asks.

  I nod as the light is blocked and I can finally see where I am.

  My heart stops. Standing there in front of me…

  “Eve?” I whisper, ripping off the goggles.

  “Put them back on!” Johnny shouts as I’m blinded again by the intense white light.

  I snap them over my head and blink. Eve reappears. It’s her, standing in the center of the room, staring at the wall.

  “She’s not real, you idiot. I thought you of all people would be able to spot a hologram when you see one.”

  Suddenly I see the light-throws from the holo-projectors rigged up to the corners of the room.

  “B-but how are you doing this?” I stutter, more at seeing the perfection of Eve’s face again than anything else.

  “Don’t you recognize your own father’s invention?” Johnny says, picking up the illuminated keypad from the floor.

  He types a few things in and Eve suddenly turns to me.

  “Hello, Bram. I’ve missed you.” She winks.

  “Stop,” I say, placing my hand over Johnny’s to stop him from typing.

  “Okay, okay.”

  I step to the corner of the room and take a close look at the small projectors blasting Eve’s image into Johnny’s damp room in the Deep. I read Wells Innovations embossed on the side of the matte-black outer casing. “How did you get this?” I ask.

  He turns to me. “These? Oh, they’re everywhere in Central, just standard holo-projectors.”

  I stare back at him and wait. That’s a lie, and he knows I know it is. Of course there are holo-projectors inside and outside every building in Central—there have been for years, installed as part of my father’s Projectant Program with the intention of using them to allow Projectants to walk freely among society. When his program was scrapped the projectors remained, taking on a new role throwing advertisements and EPO propaganda into the streets, projecting the latest-model boats and floating homes onto the river.

  But these are not standard holo-projectors.

  “Okay.” Johnny smiles. “I knew you’d spot it.”

  He’s referring to the small letter H embossed after Wells Innovations.

  Holly.

  “Those are my projectors,” I say. “They’re only used in one place.”

  “The Dome.” Johnny raises his eyebrows.

  “How did you…”

  “Some good men gave their lives to get these,” he says, his expression suddenly changing.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I place my hand on his shoulder.

  “Nah, it’s okay. It’s what we sign up for.” He shrugs. “I just gotta get this damn thing to work.”

  I glance at Eve, now standing as though she’s in a moment of deep thought. Then I glance around Johnny’s room. Wires, circuit boards, screens, computers, keyboards. His role down here is pretty obvious.

  “What the hell are you planning to use this for anyway?” I ask, trying to choose from the endless possibilities.

  “Well, that’s classified.” He smirks. “But between you and me, let’s just say that if Eve ever made it outside that place, a decoy might not be the worst idea in the world.” He winks.

  I nod, lifting my goggles slightly and squinting at the mess of light splashing around the small room. “Well, she’s far from perfect at the moment.” I chuckle.

  “You think you could help?” He can’t contain the hopeful grin on his face. “If anyone’s going to be able to get this working, it’s you!”

  Of all the definitive moments in the last few days, of all the life-changing decisions I’ve made, this feels top of the list. The ultimate betrayal of my father. My heart leaps at the idea of helping the Freevers to use his own tech against him. “Yeah, I’ll help,” I say, taking a seat on the floor next to him. “But I warn you: I’m not my father.”

  “From what I hear, that’s probably a good thing,” Johnny says. “But you must have learned a thing or two from working with him all these years.”

  “With?” I chuckle. “No one works with Dr. Wells. You work for him.”

  “Jeez, and I thought I had it bad,” Johnny replies.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding his remark.

  “Frost. Dad. My dad!” Johnny explains.

  “Frost is your father?” I say, maybe a little too shocked.

  “Yeah. The apple fell a long way from that tree, all right!” He laughs. “Much to Dad’s disappointment.”

  I spend the next few hours sharing my limited knowledge of holography with Johnny. He laps up every word, fills in the blanks. By the time we remove our goggles, the blinding lights have been tamed, the exposure corrected, the focus calibrated—and standing before us is a perfect replication of Eve.

  Johnny sighs at her beauty.

  “You should see the real thing,” I reply.

  “With you on our side, maybe I will.” He smiles.

  He might just be right.

  44

  BRAM

  “Rise and shine, young Bram,” she rasps through the thin crack of my door.

  My tired mind takes a few moments to remember her name. “Morning, Helena.” I yawn.

  “Actually, it’s afternoon
,” she replies, stepping in and handing me a tin mug.

  The hours pass quicker in the Deep. Sunlight barely breaks the storm clouds, let alone reaches the catacombs of this Freever hive far below the rivers of Central.

  “It’s impossible to tell when day ends and night begins down here,” I say, sipping the water, using my lips to filter the few petals they add for flavor.

  “Day, night, it doesn’t matter here, my boy. Someone’s always awake and someone’s always asleep,” she says, rapping her fist on the wall dividing me from the next room, where Chubs is undoubtedly still snoozing.

  “I’m up!” his muffled voice moans.

  I like Helena. She’s made my time in the Deep a little easier, her quick mind and sharp tongue putting me in my place, and others too. They all respect her here.

  “On your feet then, Tower Boy. Frost doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” she says, watching me as I stand and pull my damp jumpsuit up over my naked torso.

  “Getting a good look?” I tease.

  “Cheeky bugger! I’m old enough to be your grandmother,” she jokes, picking up my mug, finishing my water, and disappearing into the hall.

  I drop to the floor and start my new ritual of a hundred push-ups. Being down here makes you feel unfit, out of shape. I can’t afford to be either of those. I feel the oxygen flooding my muscles and the adrenaline waking my senses. I need to be alert if I’m being summoned by Frost.

  One. Two. Three. Four…Frost, Chubs, Helena, Saunders…I start listing the names, trying to remember the new family I’ve fallen into. Quite literally, in some cases. There are entire families living down here. Fathers, mothers, and sons, all united in the fight to free Eve from the clutches of the EPO.

  “Bram?” Johnny whispers through my door.

  “Come in,” I grunt as I push up. The door opens and in he comes, his goggles dangling around his neck.

  “Hi, erm…It’s Frost. He’s sent me to get you.”

  “Jeez, must be fairly urgent. Helena’s only just left.”

  Johnny widens his eyes.

  “It’s about me and Eve, right?” I ask, already guessing.

  He nods. “Did you actually kiss?” He runs his hands through his hair in excited anticipation of my reply.

  “Yes and no. It’s complicated,” I say, standing up and squeezing past him through the door.

  “So, like, your lips actually…I can’t even…How did you…”

  “Okay, chill, Johnny, chill. There’s a lot more to it,” I say, trying to speed up our walk. I already hear the crowd in the main chamber, the largest one. It’s where they hold all their meetings.

  I turn the corner and Helena’s figure fills the open doorway. “Good luck,” she whispers, giving me a little pat on my butt as Johnny and I pass her to enter the lion’s den.

  She follows us as we walk into the long, dimly lit hall, every head turning in our direction.

  The room falls silent.

  All eyes are on me.

  Now I see why. A small old-fashioned projector sits on the central table, casting its light toward the largest wall. The beam is interrupted by a jet of fine mist, pouring from a pipe in the ceiling. The projection on the mist acts like a makeshift hologram, showing everyone in the room the photograph sitting on top of the projector. The photo of the kiss. Our kiss.

  The reaction is mixed. Some of the Freevers spit on the ground at my feet. Others laugh and give me congratulatory nudges in jest. I see the scattering of women gather around Helena. She continues to walk behind me as she hears whisper after whisper. I glance back for some reassurance as she waves them away like annoying flies buzzing around her head, and nods for me to keep moving.

  “Calm yourselves, please.” Frost calls the rabble to order. “Obviously, you’ve seen we have breaking news fresh from the Dome about our guest of honor and newest recruit, Mr. Bram Wells.”

  The room half applauds. I don’t know how to react. This is weird. Awkward. I stare at the floor, trying not to make eye contact with anyone around me. I sense the trust I’ve been trying to build hanging by a thread.

  As I do my best not to look at anyone, I find myself facing a scattering of photographs on the long table in front of me while Frost addresses the crowd.

  “Leaked EPO images,” Helena whispers from behind, sensing my interest.

  “What are you looking for?” I mutter back, our voices lost under the constant Freever babble.

  “Ernie Warren,” she replies. Eve’s father.

  I raise my eyebrows in response, looking at the haystack of images for a needle that might not even exist. I scan the photographs, from dilapidated cloudscrapers to family photos of EPO personnel outside their homes. How have the Freevers gotten their hands on these?

  Suddenly something catches my eye.

  A small speck of color on the corner of a photograph sticks out from underneath the pile. I recognize the deep green of the few leaves visible at this edge of the picture.

  While the noisy room surrounding me is preoccupied with Frost’s speech, I lean forward casually and subtly slip the photo out so I can see the whole thing. My heart is racing as I stare at the photo, the one I’ve had as the home screen of my holo-display since I was a boy: the large, beautiful tree.

  Suddenly an impossible thought streaks across my mind, like a news flash. Why else would my dad have had that exact photo in his office all those years ago?

  This place has to be significant.

  I run my hands across the photo, as if my fingers are touching the leaves, and I stop them at the bottom, at the thing that has been staring me in the face my whole life.

  This isn’t a photo of a tree at all. It’s a photo of the building behind it. My youthful mind was blinded by nature’s beauty, disguising the small brick building in the background. It’s been there all this time, sitting at the end of a gravel driveway, sheltered from the sun by the gracious tree.

  My father is not a sentimental man. He has no family portraits or photos of his past. Everything has a purpose; everything has a use. My father would only have had this photo for a specific reason, and if he was in on some cover-up, if he was part of Ernie’s disappearance…

  My brain is spinning.

  I suddenly realize that I know more than any of the men in the room. I know where Eve’s father is.

  “So, Mr. Wells,” says Frost.

  “It’s just Bram.”

  “Very well, Bram.”

  “And I’m not down here to join you,” I say to them all as I stare into Frost’s eyes. My heart pounds. I’ve not thought any of this through, but somehow I know it’s right.

  “Oh, really?” Frost says, digging his dirty fingers into the arm of his chair.

  “I’m here to lead you.”

  45

  EVE

  “Eve.” I hear my name while a hand gently shakes me awake.

  “Hmm.” I stir, feeling groggy. My head seems heavy as I lift it. Mother Kadi is gazing down at me with a concerned look on her face.

  “We need to go to the doctor. For retraction,” she adds with a sad smile.

  It comforts me.

  That face.

  That compassion for the situation I’m in purely because I was born.

  I’ve barely slept. I felt so energized last night that I simply couldn’t sleep. The black of night seemed to go on forever as I watched it linger from my sofa. I must’ve dozed off at some point and my body aches because I didn’t get into bed.

  “Come on. Let’s get you ready,” Mother Kadi says softly.

  “Will you stay with me?” I ask. “Retraction is nothing new, I know that. But this is different. This time I’m saying goodbye to my eggs, knowing they may find their way back to me.”

  “And that’s a good thing,” she says encouragingly.

  �
�Obviously.” I decide not to add that the thought of them gluing those fertilized eggs into me makes me feel physically sick.

  “I can stay.” Mother Kadi extends a hand for me to take. She helps me to my feet and follows me through to the bathroom. While I’m undressing she turns on the shower, checking the temperature, then picks up the dirty clothes I’ve been wearing and puts them into the laundry bin. I didn’t shower last night. When we first left the safe room I was intending to, but those plans vanished once I found my mother’s note.

  I walk into the shower, closing my eyes as the hot water hammers at my body, waking me fully. I keep my eyes closed as Mother Kadi applies shampoo to my hair while sitting on the ledge above me, massaging it into my scalp. She rinses it, then smooths on the conditioner.

  She is about to climb down and leave me to wash it out myself, but I sense her hovering next to me, as though she’s waiting for something.

  I open my eyes as she reaches out to cradle my cheek.

  “You’re stronger than you know, Eve,” she whispers. “And your mother was too. Trust your instincts. Follow them.”

  My eyes squint at her through the water running over my face.

  She glances at the shower, then at one of the microphones hanging above us. It can’t hear us over the noise of running water, and we can’t be seen, thanks to the steam on the glass. Not if we’re careful. Yet before I have a chance to say or ask anything in return, she’s gone to fetch a towel from the heated rack. The moment is gone.

  I search her face when I get out of the shower, but there is nothing to read. It’s as though I imagined the exchange.

  46

  BRAM

  Once the laughter dies down, the Freevers look at me with the strangest mixture of expressions—some confused, others angry—but Frost’s face is unreadable. He keeps his cards close to his chest.

  He raises a hand and the whispers hush. “Lead us?” he says calmly. “Where exactly are you planning to lead us, Bram?”