by Lisa Lee
After I was done, I noticed there was a full-length mirror on the back of the washroom door. My light-brown complexion stared back at me, the bruises from yesterday clearly visible. I had round cheeks that dimpled when I smiled, but I wasn’t smiling. My eyes were slightly almond-shaped and dark, with flecks of amber that were only visible in good light. My blondish-brown, kinky-curly hair needed a good comb through, but I didn’t have the energy for it. I was a little taller than average, and my chest was no longer pancake flat. My size 32B bra felt constricting.
I wanted to squeeze into a little genie bottle and go back in time. Everything seemed too disturbing. Why was I favored to live in the Jade Vine House when other girls weren’t? I knew from overheard whispered conversations that companions were considered little better than dirt and that the stain was permanent. No girl could better herself after being a companion. Without my aunt’s money—or rather, her dead husband’s money—would I be just like them? The firm ground I was used to standing on now felt like quicksand. Unmotivated to face the other girls at lunch, I went upstairs to my assigned room.
Looking out the window, I could see some of the girls from the other houses. They wore the same uniforms and polished veneer as the girls in the Jade Vine House, my house. But even from the fifth floor, I could see that they carried themselves with more tension. I remembered going with my mom once to donate clothes to a homeless shelter and noticing the wiry thinness on some of the women. It was less dieting and exercise and more living a hard life with no room for extras or dreaming. These girls had that sort of hardness. They were diamond-hard beautiful.
I had decided to lie down for a little while longer, when my eye spotted my jean fabric purse under the bed. I hadn’t realized I still had it. Maybe that was what Mrs. Stout had glimpsed when her eyes got that unholy gleam.
I rummaged through it, trying to find vestiges of my old life. I found lip moisturizers, clear nail polish, items for monthly use, and a small envelope. I opened the envelope, to find a note. “We’re so sorry. There was no other way. Pray and live well.” The note was in my mother’s handwriting. The envelope included her favorite necklace, which had a small golden cross embedded with diamond chips. I remembered my mother taking my purse briefly at Sunny City Gardens. I was glad for a note from her and put the necklace on under my shirt. I didn’t want it to get taken away.
But what else had she said? She had put pocket money in my purse. I looked and just saw the usual assortment of coins. I shrugged to myself, put the note back, and started to close the purse, when I saw that I had lipstick in my purse as well. Ruby Blush #12, my mom’s favorite lipstick that she only used on special occasions since the color had been discontinued. I wondered why it was in my purse as I opened it up. Even though it was an extra-large tube for lipstick, there was so little left that I would’ve had to use a finger or a Q-tip to dig out enough to apply to my lips.
I twisted the bottom a little, and that’s when I heard the slight crinkly sound of paper. I felt a shiver run through me as I continued to turn the bottom and revealed hidden cash. I hurriedly turned the knob the other way and put the top back on the lipstick. I closed my purse and put it on the top shelf in the closet. At least I wasn’t in the middle of nowhere without funds. But, come to think of it, I really didn’t know where the Joseph Hyde School for Exceptional Girls was located. There was no address or phone number on any of the school material Mrs. Grey had given me. There was just the school name.
Frustrated, I fell back on the bed. My mother had always advised me to live well. How could I live well when others were in situations that were shameful? If I had been used by Inspector Brown, I wouldn’t have been able to recover and move on, even though it wouldn’t have been my fault. This new arrangement, however, still made me feel dirty in some inexplicable way. I felt ashamed of my good fortune but relief that I wasn’t in one of the other houses.
My feeling of relief made me feel ashamed again, and my head spun in a circle of relief and shame the rest of the day. That night, I dreamed I was at a great feast at my new house, the Jade Vine House. None of the girls wore uniforms but instead wore expensive sparkly jewelry and beautiful expensive gowns. I could smell the scent of lighted vanilla candles. The smoke from the candles twirled lazily upward. The men were in black tuxedos and their faces shadowed, but I could feel their maleness, even in the dream. Their delighted male laughter was interspersed with softer, lighter feminine laughter.
The dinner bell rang, and everyone moved to the crystal-and-linen-topped table. On top of the table lay a female form, covered mostly with a white sheet and surrounded by flowers. I looked at her face, and that was when I realized I was not a horrified guest at the party. I was the meal.
I woke up, sweating and gasping for air, the sheets twisted and damp. My heart was galloping so fast I put my hands over my chest as if to keep my heart from running away.
FOUR
Gideon, The Fruit of Sin
“I deeply regret to inform you that your son has tested positive for the Denique sperma virus.”
Gideon watched his mother gasp and fall gracelessly back onto the padded bench. His father swayed as though hit by a strong wind.
“How is this possible?” the king asked as he looked at Gideon. “We never cut any corners while trying to keep that virus out.”
The Denique sperma virus owed its nefarious existence to a bioterrorist named Dr. John Spike. Dr. Spike was a soft-spoken, mild-mannered madman. He thought most of the world’s population should be wiped out, except for a select few who would represent a new world order based on reason.
To achieve such an inhuman goal, Mr. Spike bred mosquitoes in his private Peruvian lab to see if they could carry certain deadly strains of viruses. After years of soul-crushing failure, Dr. Spike believed he would never achieve his goal and burned down his lab. Unfortunately, a few of his lab mosquitoes got out of the burning toxic mass. Those mosquitoes carried a virus strain that induced high fevers, tremors, and vomiting. Those symptoms, however, while severe, were only temporary. The virus also caused severe and permanent impact to the reproductive health of those it infected. They either became sterile or had a ninety-nine percent chance of having offspring with severe birth defects.
As a result, most countries—if not all—made it a serious criminal offense for those affected by the virus to procreate. Parents had to have a reproductive license before they could procreate. Many women with licenses were also carriers for families impacted by the virus. The virus infested not just the usual suspects—tropical and subtropical areas—but even managed to thrive in some cold weather climates.
Seahorse Island had never encountered the virus. The island ran a highly aggressive mosquito abatement program. Some environmentalists and watchdog groups complained about the chemicals used by the island, claiming they were more toxic than the mosquitoes they were trying to wipe out. The spokesperson for the royal family noted that Seahorse Island was one of only seven places in the world where the Denique sperma virus had not taken root. Even Saved America was not spared by the virus. These factors doused water on the fire the complainants were trying to flame.
To be told on a day meant for celebration that the dreaded virus was now on Seahorse Island and had infected the royal family was horrific for Gideon. It was his job to oversee the mosquito abatement program. He had failed not just his family but his country as well.
For a long minute, Gideon tried to process this catastrophic turn of events as knife-like feelings of shame and fear bludgeoned through his normal sense of self. No wonder the chief physician appeared on the screen. The medical staff was now in quarantine. While the virus was primarily transmitted by mosquitoes, it could also be spread through contact with an infected person’s blood.
Gideon felt sweat bead on his forehead as he looked at the stricken faces of his parents and thought about Gabe’s grayish-blue face at their fight. He thought of Lily, the person who shared the most intimate contact with Gabe, and felt
nauseous.
“Father, I’m not sure how the virus got on the island. After I check on Gabe, I will speak with the minister of health and follow the emergency plan for this event.”
“Your mother and I will check on Gabe. You should go talk to the minister of health now. Consider this matter your most urgent priority,” the king ordered Gideon with a hard stare before turning to speak to the chief physician.
Gideon clinched his jaw, nodding tightly, and left to follow his father’s instructions.
* * *
“What! The Denique sperma virus!” The minister of health’s hands shook slightly before he placed them on his lap. They were sitting in a small conference room to the side of Gideon’s office. The minister had apparently been about to bed down for the night when he was summoned to the palace. Gideon knew from experience that Minister Kang was a conscientious and detail-oriented minister. But still, the virus had made its way to the island, and they needed to take immediate action to stop it.
“Yes, we have a confirmed case, so we need to follow the emergency procedures. We need to take all available measures—no shortcuts—to stop the spread. How it got onto the island, who has it or had it, and how to stop its spread. We need all of that information ASAP,” Gideon replied without his usual politeness when speaking with the minister.
“I will pull my team together tonight and staff this matter on a twenty-four-hour basis per the emergency procedure. We will need to get in contact with the confirmed case right away. I am surprised my office was not informed. Where is the patient?” the minister asked.
Here Gideon paused. He wasn’t sure that information should get out.
“Your Royal Highness, it is very important that we place Patient Zero in isolation, as well as anyone who may have had contact with the patient. We need to target around his or her communal home to kill any hidden pockets of mosquitoes.” Here Minister Kang paused with a grimace. “We will also need to determine how this information should be communicated so as not to cause panic.”
Gideon responded, “Communicate that the virus may—emphasis on may—have reached the island. Request that folks with any medical symptoms call in. All events should be canceled, and all businesses and schools are to be closed for the next few days. I will speak to my father about rescheduling the celebration for the fight.”
Minister Kang opened his mouth and then closed it, but Gideon could almost hear the objections running through his mind.
“Do you have any members of your staff who are exceptional workers and discreet?” Gideon asked.
“What?” Minister Kang responded in a surprised voice, sitting up even straighter. “Yes, of course I do. Why do you ask?”
“I need a team assigned to The Red Palace.” Gideon looked away. The minister of health did not readily respond, and the silence stretched out.
“I saw the match today with my daughter, Angel,” the minister eventually spoke. “I suspected your brother was not well after the fight. How long has he been sick?”
“Three weeks,” Gideon replied, wondering if the minister knew about his relationship with Angel. For such a conscientious professional, Minister Kang missed much as a father.
Minister Kang nodded his head as though confirming something and then stood up.
“I will follow your plan, Prince Gideon. Expect a team at the palace within an hour. The medical staff from the infirmary should stay in the infirmary until we can test them.”
Gideon nodded and walked back over to his desk. He reached for his journal to write down his thoughts for all the avenues he would need to address with the virus situation. His assistants hated the habit, preferring that he use an electronic notepad. Writing helped him better remember his thoughts. However, before he could write, he needed the minister to leave. The minister had followed him and was standing in front of the desk with an uncomfortable look on his face.
“What is it?” Gideon asked impatiently.
“Has your brother been out of the country recently?” Minister Kang asked.
“No, he hasn’t,” replied Gideon. “The last time he left the island was a couple of months ago.”
Minister Kang looked embarrassed and said, “Sir, it is unexpected that in three weeks no other cases have become known. Mosquitoes are rapid reproducers.”
Gideon must have looked puzzled because Minister Kang abandoned the hints. “Sir, is it possible that your brother did not get the virus from a mosquito?”
“But how else would he get the virus?” Gideon asked, still confused.
“If he is the only one with symptoms after three weeks, it may be that he doesn’t have the virus and was incorrectly diagnosed. Considering the quality of the palace medical staff, I think that option is unlikely. What is more likely on the probability scale is that the prince has the virus, but he didn’t get it from a mosquito. Someone could have delivered it by placing it in hot liquid given to the prince or through an injection through his skin.”
Gideon stood up in alarm. “But I thought it had to be blood-to-blood transmission if not directly from the mosquito.”
“This is not well-known, but it is possible to make a dry version of the virus in a lab. Putting the dry version in liquid and heating it to a certain temperature would activate the virus, albeit for only a limited time—no longer than thirty minutes.”
* * *
Gideon sat and watched his brother sleeping, his own eyes heavy with the need to sleep. His hair needed a trim and his clothes, usually immaculate, were rumpled. Gideon could smell that he needed a shower.
Minister Kang had confirmed that there were no other cases of the virus since Gabe had fallen ill. The only conclusion drawn for how Gabe had acquired the virus was that the transfer had been deliberately done by human hands. The frustrating thing for Gideon was that no one knew by whose hands the deed had been done. He wanted to scream and yell and hit something when both the minister of defense and the minister of health told him his brother’s situation was a clear case of biowarfare. Gideon felt the desire boiling in himself to avenge the harm that had been done to his brother. He knew other countries frowned upon the island’s liberal use of capital punishment, but Gideon knew he would recommend no less once this enemy was found.
Gideon ran his hand through his hair again. He replayed the weeks before his brother fell sick over and over in his mind. Earlier, he had looked through Gabe’s calendar and tried to think of any persons he might have overlooked. The weeks leading up to the fight had been the slowest of the year for administrative and royal duties, but there were still quite a few meetings the brothers had to attend. Eventually, in frustration, Gideon had asked the defense ministry to follow up on every point of contact for both him and Gabe during the month before the fight. Nothing untoward was found.
Gideon clenched his fists together and rested his forehead on them. He felt wetness on his hands, and as he lifted his head, a single tear drop fell and splattered on his clenched fist. Shaking his head, he quite firmly wiped his hand down his face. He needed to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, worries over the situation with his brother would cause his mind to spiral in an endless cycle of unanswerable questions. Maybe if he meditated, his mind and body would finally rest.
“Gideon.” His brother spoke his name quietly, his eyes closed.
“How did you know it was me?” Gideon asked.
“Who else could it be? You smell like shit,” his twin replied as he tried to lift himself up.
“Oh, look, the sick man talking big,” Gideon replied as he helped Gabe sit up. “You are supposed to be lying down, resting.”
Gabe looked at him like he wanted to refute his statement but then closed his eyes again as he asked, “What is happening?”
Gideon hesitated in answering. His brother was very ill. In just ten days, his body was noticeably thinner. The doctor said the recovery process would be slow. Until a day ago, Gabe had been in quarantine, as had all the medical staff who treated him. He decided to sti
ck to safe conversations.
“Lily is fine. I actually think her stomach has gotten bigger.” Gideon paused before continuing. “Other parts of her have gotten impressively larger as well.”
“You are a complete ass,” Gabe replied. “Once I recover from this virus, you know I will still be a better fighter than you.”
“Seriously,” Gideon retorted. “You want to go with that theory? If I hadn’t gone easy on you, you would be . . .” Horrified that he had been about to say the word “dead,” Gideon blanked on trying to come up with a more appropriate word.
“Look, I know I don’t have just a regular virus. What’s the impact on the island?” Gabe sounded worried. “They took away all my devices and my access to the net. All I can do is re-watch cartoons that weren’t funny the first time we saw them as kids.”
“The island is fine. You got the virus through biowarfare.”
Gabe turned his head sharply to look at Gideon and then winced.
Gideon stood up. “Do you need me to get the nurse?”
“No, just tell me who did it,” his brother croaked out.
Instead of immediately answering, Gideon poured a glass of water from the carafe on the table next to him and handed it to Gabe. “We don’t know who did, but I’m working on it.”
Gabe said nothing in response to this news. He took one sip of water before handing the glass back to Gideon and closing his eyes. He was quiet for so long that Gideon thought he had fallen asleep. He wanted to ask his brother about any unusual occurrences over the last few weeks that could explain how the virus was administered. He would have to wait.
As Gideon walked silently out of the large infirmary room, Gabe said, “I’m sorry, brother.”
Thinking his brother was talking about falling asleep, Gideon said, “It’s ok.” He closed the door quietly and left. It would be two years before he understood his brother’s apology.
As Gideon left the infirmary, he ran into his grandmother. Her long white hair was loose instead of being pulled back into a bun, and she was dressed in a white cotton nightgown.
