Promised

by O'Brien, Caragh M.

  “What?” Gaia asked, looking down at her red dress.

  “It’s a formal invitation. They’ll be dressed up,” Myrna said.

  Gaia laughed for the first time in ages. “I’m not going to socialize,” she said.

  “You’re not going to serve them either, which is how it will look if you go to the Bastion dressed like that,” Myrna stressed. “And you don’t arrive at seven. You go at seven thirty or later if you’re important.”

  These were niceties that wouldn’t have occurred to Gaia. “You should come with me.”

  Myrna lifted her eyebrows. “I wasn’t invited.”

  “So crash. You have influence with people, Myrna,” Gaia said. “It’s time to speak up. You should be at the Bastion.”

  “I need to still be here after the dust settles,” Myrna said. “I’ll stay out of it until the wounded need me. I assure you, the time will come.”

  “I’m not leading us towards violence.” Gaia said.

  “No? Don’t deceive yourself,” Myrna said. “And get yourself out of that red. You’re no servant.”

  * * *

  Gaia entered the Enclave for the third time since returning from the wasteland, this time by invitation, and escorted by Peter and a dozen scouts. The guards at the south gate stepped back respectfully.

  “We’ve been expecting you, Masister Stone,” one of them said, tipping his hat.

  Behind him, Sergeant Burke was talking into a device, regarding Gaia with watchful eyes.

  “It’s still a trap,” Peter said.

  It didn’t matter if was a trap. She had to go.

  “You look very nice,” Peter added.

  She let out a laugh. She’d conceded to Myrna’s advice by taking off Rita’s red dress and donning clean clothes she’d worn as Matrarc in Sylum: brown trousers and a white blouse. Josephine had insisted on loaning her a lightweight jacket of very soft leather, which hugged her slender arms and figure. What Gaia appreciated most, however, was a spare dagger Norris had given her for her boot. She knew she didn’t look particularly dainty or nice, but with her clean face and freshly brushed hair, her necklace and Leon’s bracelet, she felt like herself.

  “Thanks,” she said to Peter.

  “No return compliment for me?” he asked.

  She didn’t bother to look at him. Peter looked good no matter what he did. It was a freakish fact of nature.

  “No. Don’t be annoying.”

  The rest of the escort was a couple paces behind, and Gaia glanced back to see they were looking around the city with interest.

  “I can’t help wondering,” Peter said. “Do you enjoy having backups?

  “What do you mean?”

  “If anything ever happened to your fiancé, do you think you’d pine away for him forever, or do you think you’d call up one of your spares?”

  “Don’t even think that,” she said. “What an awful thing to say. That’s sick.”

  “It’s just honest.”

  “It’s just sick.”

  “I guess that’s an answer,” he said.

  She turned. “Malachai. Come up here with me,” she said, and waited for the big man to step forward and walk between her and Peter.

  “I get the point,” Peter said dryly. “I apologize. Most sincerely.”

  You’re supposed to be over me by now, she thought. He was finally making it easier for her to dislike him, especially considering how worried she already was about Leon. She had to get him free from his father, and she had no idea where he even was. She refused to think he could be back in V cell.

  Peter leaned around Malachai. “I said I’m sorry,” he said once more.

  “Fine.”

  They progressed steadily through the Enclave, up the main road, until they reached the terrace of the Bastion. Light streamed through the windows, and white-clad guests were passing in, bringing brightly wrapped gifts. Gaia could hear laughter and distant music.

  When she moved toward the door, the butler Wilson greeted her and ushered her in with Peter and Malachai. The rest of her scouts filed in behind.

  Ahead, guests were mingling in the great hall between the sweeping, curved double staircases. More were visible in the solarium beyond, and the music, nearer now, was a lively swing melody. Gaia spotted one of the pregnant women of the Vessel Institute in a white gown, her glimmering bracelet distinguishing her like a badge of honor among the other elegant, white-clad guests. Children in white party clothes and polished shoes were playing with a kitten at the base of the stairs. Two young women dressed in red cradled babies in their arms, and waiters in black were circulating with trays of drinks.

  Wilson extended his arm toward a pair of footman. “Your guards might be more comfortable in the billiard parlor,” he said.

  Gaia’s scouts were staring in open amazement. Nothing in their lives in Sylum had prepared them for the majestic scale and bright lights of the Bastion, and they were clearly dazzled. She’d felt something similar once.

  “Peter and Malachai, stay with me,” Gaia said. She spoke in a low voice to Peter. “They’re not going to physically attack us among all their friends.”

  “You can go,” Peter said, quietly gesturing the other scouts towards the footmen. They headed for an arched opening on the right,

  “Gaia, you’ve arrived!” Genevieve said, coming forward with a broad smile. She passed her glass to Wilson and took both of Gaia’s hands in her own. “Do come in. We have so many people who are anxious to meet you.”

  “Where’s Leon?” Gaia asked.

  “He’s here somewhere,” Genevieve said airily. Her golden curls were toppled on her head in an artful hairdo, and her white dress shimmered with a delicate design of gold. “You should have told us you were engaged! What a wonderful surprise.”

  “Did Evelyn tell you?” Gaia asked.

  “No, Leon did himself. We wanted to wait until you were here with him so you could announce it together, but I’m afraid some little bird let it out of the bag and the gossip’s already circulating,” Genevieve said. “You’ve brought your friends?” she smiled pleasantly, turning to Peter and Malachai.

  Gaia introduced them, and was impressed by Genevieve’s cordial welcome.

  “So handsome, my goodness,” Genevieve said as she released Peter’s hand. “Would you care for some punch or wine? Our chef makes a wonderfully festive punch with sorbet in it. You’d like it.”

  “I just want to see Leon,” Gaia said.

  “He was just here. Let me introduce you to some of our friends while we look for him.” Genevieve drew Gaia toward the solarium, leaving Peter and Malachai to trail behind. “The Goades and the Rhodeskis are becoming grandparents tonight and they are thrilled. Such generous people, too. All the donors to the Vessel Institute are. They’re wealthy beyond anything you can imagine and they’ve given countless sums to our latest new civic projects. As a matter of fact, they’ve taken a great interest in providing a pipeline for New Sylum. Here we are!”

  Genevieve led them to the solarium, where Gaia paused on the threshold. On all four sides, every French door was open now, affording glimpses of more rooms beyond, and Gaia could see the farthest doors led into a larger room where the music originated. Ferns grew in lush fans around her, and palms reached high toward the glass panels of the ceiling above. Lovely as the interior garden was, Gaia was struck by how pitifully tame it was compared to the wild, teaming expanse of the Dead Forest and the marsh she’d left behind in Sylum.

  Guests strolled through the verdant, inviting space in an ever-changing array of faces, including Masister Kohl, Tom and Dora Maulhardt, and others she recalled from before.

  A strange thought hit her. Leon had grown up in this wealthy milieu, among these people. When he was disowned at sixteen, he’d left his family bitter and angry, but this was still his heritage. Civilized, elegant parties like this one had to be a formative part of his childhood, yet he almost never mentioned this part of his life. She could easily picture him here,
but she couldn’t find him.

  A waiter offered her a small cup of a frothy, amber-colored drink. She took one from the tray, and Peter and Malachai followed her example. Her first cold sip was of tang and foam, and it slid down her throat like pure luxury.

  “Do come,” Genevieve said, drawing Gaia forward. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Gaia glanced back. A middle-aged, short man had paused to talk to Peter, and Malachai lingered with him, looking rather awkward. He looked questioningly at Gaia, but she nodded for him to stay there.

  Genevieve guided Gaia to an elderly man in a white jacket who was passing out lollipops to a couple of children. More of the candies bulged in his jacket pocket.

  “Mabrother Rhodeski’s about to become a grandfather,” Genevieve said. “Isn’t that marvelous?”

  Mabrother Rhodeski straightened from the children and held out a hand to Gaia. His gaze flicked briefly over her scar, and when he smiled, his deeply set eyes gave the impression of both pleasure and ages of sadness. “I can’t tell you how excited I am to meet you, Masister Stone,” he said in a smooth bass voice.

  “Mabrother Rhodeski’s the heart and soul of the Vessel Institute,” Genevieve added. “This is a very big day for him and his family. Congratulations again, Mabrother.”

  Gaia found it hard to believe this soft-spoken, kind-eyed man was the mastermind behind a heartless system, but then, she knew appearances could deceive. She wondered if he had any idea Sasha had defected and was living alone in a tunnel.

  “Give us a few minutes,” Mabrother Rhodeski said, his gaze never leaving Gaia.

  “Of course! Take all the time you need,” Genevieve said. “Where’s your son?”

  “Matt’s with Vicki. Try in the ballroom,” he said.

  Gaia looked around again for Leon, wondering where he could be. Peter and Malachai were still in conversation near the door, and a waiter was passing them more punch.

  “Please tell Leon I’m here,” Gaia said to Genevieve.

  “Of course,” Genevieve said, heading in the direction of the music.

  “I don’t supposed you’d care for a lollipop,” Mabrother Rhodeski asked Gaia, offering.

  “How can you support the Vessel Institute?” Gaia asked in a low, urgent voice. “Are you aware of what it’s doing to some of the pregnant girls? Do you realize where Sasha is at this very moment?”

  “This is a bit awkward, actually,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. The elusive sadness in his eyes deepened further. “I’d hoped to have time to explain things for you very carefully and give you all sorts of back story, but as things have developed, with the baby being born today, we’ll need to capitalize on the publicity.”

  “Is that right? Does Sasha’s scandal merit some publicity?”

  “Please,” he said simply.

  The man took her elbow, turning her toward a trickling fountain. Votive candles had been spaced along the stone path, and a dense patch of irises grew in a raised bed, their delicate blossoms deeply purple. She glanced back to see Peter and Malachai were still clearly in sight and atuned to her movement.

  “You look like you’re about the same age my daughter Nicole was when she died,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “She had hemophilia. Are you seventeen?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry about your daughter,” Gaia said.

  “She was a gift, every single minute of her life.” He tilted his face slightly. “My daughter died ten months ago. I often wonder what she would think of all the changes that have happened since then.”

  Even as she was wary of being manipulated, Gaia couldn’t help but be sorry for him. She guessed, from his age, that he must have had his daughter quite late in life. “Did you try Myrna’s blood bank for her?”

  He nodded. “We did. We’re very grateful to Myrna. But something went wrong with bleeding during Nicole’s menstrual cycle. We could do very little besides keep her from feeling too much pain near the end.” He smiled briefly, shaking his head. “She was such a forward-looking person. She would be so happy about this day.”

  “When you become grandparents,” Gaia said.

  “Yes, you see, Nicole married her childhood sweetheart,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “Matt’s like a son to us now. He was the one who first came up with the idea of keeping part of her alive. After Nicole died, we had her eggs harvested.”

  Gaia couldn’t hide her surprise, and then she started putting together his information with what Emily had told her. “That’s how you had eggs to implant in the surrogate mothers,” she said. She hadn’t considered that aspect before.

  Mabrother Rhodeski nodded. “They’re Nicole’s eggs. We were able to save only a dozen. We’d never done anything like it before, but we fertilized them with Matt’s sperm. Tonight, we’re getting Nicole and Matt’s biological child, our very own granddaughter. Can you imagine what this means to us?”

  It was no less than getting a baby out of a grave. “It must change your lives,” she said.

  His smile was radiant with pleasure. “It’s like getting a piece of Nicole back, but new. A new life. I can’t describe it. It’s unbelievable.”

  Gaia looked down at the lollipops the man still held in his fingers. He’d had to invent the Vessel Institute to make it possible. “Was it worth it?” she asked.

  “The cost? Of course it was, but please don’t misunderstand,” he said. “The Vessel Institute isn’t only for my family. There are hundreds of parents all over the Enclave who long desperately to have their own children. Infertility is a problem that breaks hearts here, month after month, every time a couple tries to conceive and can’t. We’ve finally found a way to do something about it.” He paused. “You don’t look very happy.”

  “It’s wrong,” Gaia said, thinking of Sasha. “The pilot program is nothing more than a whitewashed prison full of brainwashed prisoners.”

  “It’s life,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “We’re paying for life.”

  “You’re buying life. It’s different. And what about Sasha?”

  Mabrother’s eyes deepened once more with sadness. “I’m sorry for Sasha. If you know where she is, I hope you’ll urge her to come into the open. She needs care. She’s very confused.”

  Gaia let out a short laugh. “She doesn’t want to give up her baby. She’s very clear about that.”

  “You know this? You’ve actually spoken to her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell her the parents of her promised baby will do anything to have her safely deliver their child,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “They’ll give up custody, they’ll pay for the child’s upkeep and education. They’ll do anything if only their child can live.”

  Gaia stared at him, amazed. “She thinks she’ll be killed if she’s found,” she said.

  Mabrother Rhodeski shook his head. “We’re about life, Masister Stone. Not killing.”

  Gaia glanced around to see much of the solarium had emptied out and the music had stopped. She looked past Mabrother Rhodeski’s shoulder for Peter, who was still talking to another guest by the doorway. She couldn’t see Malachai.

  “It’s time for the ceremony!” a young boy called, running past the fountain with two little girls in tow.

  “We’re coming,” Mabrother Rhodeski said.

  Gaia was unable to reconcile Mabrother Rhodeski’s version of the truth with Sasha’s. “Someone’s lying,” she said.

  “Or someone’s mistaken and confused,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “It’s understandable, but we can find solutions if we talk to each other.”

  “Talking is what I’ve been trying to do. It hasn’t worked so far,” she said.

  Mabrother Rhodeski looked concerned. “I understand that the Protectorat has not treated your people the way he should. I’d like to change that for you. I’d prefer to avoid problems like this morning’s disruption of the city’s water, too. I can arrange a pipeline for New Sylum, but more than that, I’d like to build you a waterworks system of your own outside the wall. Then you w
on’t be dependent on the Enclave for water.”

  Gaia’s was surprised. The cost of such a project would be astronomical. “I already told the Protectorat I’m not interested in being a vessel mother,” she said. “I don’t want any part of the Vessel Institute.”

  “I’m not asking you to be a vessel mother,” Mabrother Rhodeski said. “That’s not what this is about.”

  A voice called to him from the ballroom.

  “Then what?” Gaia asked.

  Mabrother Rhodeski held up a hand apologetically. “I won’t rush this. I’m terribly sorry. I need to join my family now. But I’m delighted to know you’re open to talking. Shall we?” He gestured toward the ballroom.

  Gaia looked back over her shoulder uneasily. Peter nodded as she caught his eye. “Go ahead,” she said to Mabrother Rhodeski. “Please.”

  Mabrother Rhodeski smiled again, leaving as Peter came forward to join her.

  “Malachai’s looking for Leon and checking on the others,” Peter said.

  “I don’t think Leon’s here,” Gaia said.

  All the guests were moving to the next room, and with a last hope of finding Leon in the crowd, she followed along.

  The center of the ballroom had been cleared, and people stood in a loosely formed circle. In the middle, a young woman sat in a wheelchair, holding a baby. Her cheeks were delicately pink, her hair was neatly parted, and she was dressed in a soft white gown. When she reached nervously to tuck a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, the gesture highlighted her bracelet, which glowed blue and glittered with hints of gold.

  The other vessel mothers were gathered around, conspicuous with their rotund bellies and matching bracelets. They were smiling with different degrees of serenity and pleasure, beautifully dressed, radiating health. Emily stood among them, an infant in her arms and a toddler at her feet. If Gaia hadn’t seen Sasha with her own eyes and spoken to her, she would never guess that at least half of the vessel mothers secretly regretted joining the Vessel Institute.

  Behind the wheelchair stood a calm, smiling woman in pale blue, and Gaia took a moment to recognize Sephie Frank, one of the doctors she’d first met in Q cell. To Sephie’s left, Mabrother Rhodeski held hands with a woman about his own age, and beside them, the Protectorat was making a speech. It struck Gaia that he never mentioned the vessel mother’s name, calling her instead “Our little vessel mother” with great warmth. A young man, apparently Mabrother Rhodeski’s son-in-law Matt, leaned over the mother’s wrist, and with a golden scissors, he clipped her bracelet free and lifted it high. The crowd applauded.