by Nina Pierce
“The greeters on the platform will separate you into groups of twenty and escort you to your temporary housing. The first living area is where your families, friends or partners will visit you.” The steady hum of a motor could be heard. “You will spend only one night there, going through the purification.” The wall behind Kylie receded, revealing an open-air foyer with large trees and flowering shrubs. “In the morning, you will enter the heart of the Garden where we hope to make your stay as enjoyable and comfortable as possible.”
Kylie lifted her hand gracefully in the air. “Welcome one and all to your new home. Please, enter and make yourselves comfortable.”
Jahara moved with the rest of her breeding sisters, feeling very much as if she were walking straight into the den of a lion. The wall slid closed behind them, sealing out the rest of the world and trapping Jahara within its confines.
Had she not seen it happen, Jahara would have believed they were still outside. A gentle breeze lifted her hair and the bluest sky she’d ever seen arced over them, complete with billowing white clouds. Though the false sunlight heated her skin, Jahara rubbed her hands vigorously over her biceps, trying to ward off the inexplicable chill coursing through her veins.
Chapter Two
Jahara dropped into the overstuffed armchair, exhaustion and bitterness weighing on her body in equal measure. The last eighteen hours had been pure hell. The Garden had worked to strip her of every shred of dignity, but she’d be damned if they would break her spirit.
The moment she was ushered through the dome doors, they lined them up and offered each woman an opportunity to use a video-communicator. But Merenith hadn’t answered her call. There hadn’t been time to contact someone else and certainly no time for the tears she’d wanted to shed before the connection dropped and she was escorted from the room and another woman allowed to say her final good-byes to friends or family.
Last evening they’d served them a lavish meal on elegant tables set in an “outdoor” restaurant. It was supposed to be her opportunity to bond with her breeding sisters. But her frustration sat like an unwelcome guest at the table and made her terrible company. Answering polite inquiries about her personal life with minimal information at best, monosyllabic responses at worst, Jahara had bored everyone at the table. Eventually even Attika had given up and directed her ramblings at others.
Kylie had circulated around the tables in a flowing white chiffon dress that swirled about as if she radiated the false moonlight itself. Conversing with the women in overly cheery tones, she worked to keep their minds off the obligation they were brought here to fulfill.
Jahara had washed down her spicy meal with copious amounts of wine, listening to the young girls giggle and prattle on about men and sex. Though their furtive glances were aimed her way, no one asked about copulation. No doubt they assumed, like Attika, that she’d been mated before. That thought had just pissed her off more.
She’d returned to her room, wanting only to fall into bed and mourn the loss of her life as she knew it. But her body had had other plans. Painful cramping had been followed by waves of vomiting and loose bowels. Everything she’d consumed began purging itself from her body. Not just the meager supper she’d picked at—but from the number of hours the retching had continued—likely everything she’d eaten in the last few days.
Jahara could hear Attika, who had asked to room with her, vomiting in the adjoining bathroom. Spent and weak, they’d crawled into their beds, shortly after the midnight hour, moaning in pain and discomfort. She’d chastised herself for not recognizing the ancient herb that had been mixed in her food. It was once widely used to cleanse sickness from anyone who consumed it. She knew it from her training as a healer. It had been years since she’d prescribed it to any of her patients. There were other less foul ways to cure an ailing body.
Only hours after she’d slipped into a restless sleep, two women entered their room. Their jovial voices as they pulled them from their beds, grated across the fine hairs on the back of her neck. With military precision, they stripped Attika and Jahara and led them back into their separate bathrooms.
Closing her in a cubicle, the woman sprayed her with pungent chemicals that blistered her skin and filled her lungs with noxious fumes. The resulting coughing fit lasted only a couple of minutes, but cleared everything from her bronchial tubes. By the time Jahara stepped from the intense green lights that dried and prickled her skin, she was weak as a kitten. Her attendant led her back to the shower and scrubbed every part of her body under a scalding cascade of water until her skin burned from the sharp bristles of the brush and harsh soap.
She and Attika returned to their beds, remade with a fresh set of linens. Their attendants massaged every inch of their bodies with sweet-smelling lotion that soothed their sensitive skin. Antibiotics were inserted in her body, but Jahara was too wrung out to care about the humiliating invasion of privacy. Only pride kept the tears burning in her eyes from running unchecked down her cheeks.
The woman massaged her sensitive skin, masterfully stroking and comforting even as she apologized for the difficult purification. Jahara listened to Attika’s muffled moans across the room, but had no problem ignoring the intimate caresses on her own body. No one here could ever satisfy her.
She drifted off to sleep, dreaming of Merenith’s gentle touch.
This morning, fresh fruit, nuts and coconut milk had been left in their room. Jahara ate cautiously, unsure whether the food would stay down. Their traveling garments had been replaced with flimsy tunics and pants made of nearly transparent gossamer fabric. Her black triangle of hair was as obvious as Attika’s bright red curls and their areolas visible through the low cut-tunic that exposed a good portion of their cleavage.
As a healer, Jahara had seen naked women of all sizes and shapes. This attempt to strip away any sense of modesty was just another strike against the government. It didn’t matter. She’d resolved to do her time here, endure whatever the administration of the Garden saw fit to put her through, birth two babies for the good of womankind and leave with her sanity intact.
She and Attika had left their room nearly an hour ago through a hermetically sealed door and followed their breeding sisters through the streets to another building. Women in yellow separated the crowd into smaller clusters and sorted them into various meeting rooms. Jahara now sat next to Attika in the brightly lit room, feeling very apprehensive about what this day would bring.
Looking around, she noted the stunned expressions of the nineteen other women and knew they had endured the same humiliation the night before. The plush, faux leather chairs were arranged in a semicircular fashion, facing a wall that projected the hologram of a tropical garden. The birds chirping in the background were no doubt being piped in through some hidden speaker system. She hadn’t been here twenty-four hours and Jahara wanted nothing more than to run back home. If last night was any indication of the trials ahead, her life was about to become a living underworld of misery. Not that she expected anything different.
Kylie strode into the room, her shoulders thrown back, exposing her perky breasts. A white skirt wrapped low around her hips, billowed down in soft waves to brush along her ankles adorned with gold jeweled bands, matching the rings on her toes.
“Good morning.” She stretched the words out in a long singsong tone that grated uncomfortably along her nerves. “I trust you all slept well?” A graceful hand adorned with many rings brushed back her sweeping mane of hair. “We do apologize for the cleansing, but it is a necessary step all women must endure before entering the Garden proper.” She cupped the face of the woman closest to her, a plastic smile conveying an empathy Jahara didn’t feel.
“Men are such weak creatures,” she continued. “We fuss continually about their immune systems. We can’t be too cautious about outside spores, bacteria or viruses.” Kylie strutted to the center of the hologram. “That’s the only time you have to go through that unless you have visitors. Then you must leave here and
go through it again before reentering the Garden.”
“Doesn’t look like my family will be visiting,” Attika whispered. “I have no intention of enduring that torture again.” She shot Jahara a tremulous smile. “The only comfort was the wonderful massage. I haven’t slept that well in months.”
Kylie paraded in front of the women, her hands fluttering over her flat abdomen as she preened for the new breeders. “Today you will hear a brief history of the Garden of Serenity, learn about our laws and,” she paused for effect, “meet a male breeder.” Murmurs rolled through the group, and Kylie’s synthetic smile of satisfaction flashed again. Jahara wanted to scream. The other young women might be buying Kylie’s sincerity, but she knew it was as false as the golden mass of hair. Kylie wasn’t Olakuma, her eye lashes and brows were much too dark.
“The law enacted by the ancients guaranteed the human population would continue to grow,” Kylie said as the hologram of the Garden behind her melted away. The chirping of the birds seamlessly moved into muted strains of classical music. The picture was replaced by video of men lying in beds, three rows deep, their papery skin covering nothing but bone. A gasp rose from the group. Jahara had seen pictures like this before, but the suffering always made her ache.
“This is the plague that happened in the late twenty-first century, infecting women and decimating the male population. As you know, there are less than one million people in the Eastern Territory, by last census. Ninety-five percent are female.”
The old video slid flawlessly into a series of pictures depicting small groups of women standing with young children.
“In order to preserve their futures, young women isolated themselves in communal clans. They castrated their male young, ensuring them life, but stripping them of their ability to procreate. The government, fearing human extinction, inseminated clusters of women. Frozen stores of healthy sperm collected before the plague were distributed throughout the regions, hence, the small pockets of clans that have survived the generations.” A video of ancient healers covered in blue environ-suits replaced the women.
“Unfortunately, despite every effort to impregnate only healthy females, some women who had not suffered the effects of the virus were still carriers. The male fetuses were spontaneously aborted and few female children survived beyond the first month.”
The healers faded away and a graph appeared.
“When sperm supplies ran out, Congress decided they needed to reestablish a more heterogeneous gene pool and enacted the procreation law requiring all healthy women birth two children. Though our population has slowly grown, it has not reached the projected level the government had hoped to achieve by this century.” She motioned to the nearly level line beside her. “So, we continue to uphold the decree enacted nearly one hundred and fifty years ago. Some of you are third generation coming to the Garden to procreate.”
Jahara found Kylie’s bored voice and phony smile nauseating. Stewing in bitterness, she wondered for whom the woman before her preened. But the rapt fascination on her breeding sisters’ faces gave her the answer.
The graph became a hologram of a woman in what must have been her last trimester of pregnancy. Though she’d seen images of pregnant women in medical school, she’d never treated one. The woman’s breasts were heavy and enlarged, her abdomen swollen in disproportion to her small stature.
A gasp of surprise rippled through the room. Jahara’s stomach roiled at the thought of what a child would do to her body. No doubt Merenith would be repulsed by her body bulging out of proportion. A wave of disgust rolled over her, leaving goose-pimpled flesh in its wake.
“Birthing is a privilege few will accomplish. Our conception rate is high, but many fetuses, for medical reasons still unknown, are lost within the first trimester.” The woman in the hologram lay down on a bed. “Now don’t be alarmed by what you see next.” Healers moved in with scalpels, cutting the skin on her abdomen and removing a baby from her uterus. All the while, the birth mother kept her smile firmly in place. “As you can see, skilled healers will assist in the delivery, you will be fully conscious, but without pain.” One healer whisked the baby from the frame while the other moved in to heal the wound.
“That’s the birthing process. Simple and easy.” Kylie’s acidic words rode on a thick syrup of sweetness. “Our ancestors suffered many hours to bring forth their offspring, but that is no longer the case. You may be awake or in a hypnotized state so you don’t remember, the choice will be yours. You will notice,” the hologram showed the same woman post birth, “child bearing leaves no aftereffects on your body. Our healers take great care not to leave any scars.” Kylie slowly untied the bands of her skirt, letting it float to the floor. Though her mons was free of hair, the soft wisps covering her extremities offered more proof of her false clan representation. Jahara wondered about her reasons for hiding her clan origin.
“I am proud to say I have birthed two offspring and my partner still finds me as desirable as the first time I met her.” Applause broke out. There was no denying Kylie was a beautiful woman. Merenith showed no signs of the horrors Jahara had just witnessed. Of course the healers would not let patients leave their care with scars. She prided herself on leaving the wounds of her patients in a healthier state than they had been before an accident.
The hologram of the Garden returned and Kylie continued, unfazed by her complete nakedness in front of strangers. “The plague was horrible for the human population and it changed our ancestors forever. Over the generations, the virus that killed so many reconfigured the female DNA, giving many of us great gifts. Though I have the gift of instruction, some of you, the gift of machines, visions and prophecy or numbers.” Her mouth curved in a smile, but the emotion didn’t soften the hard look in her eyes. “But there is no gift bestowed upon any woman greater than the gift of healing. I know you don’t realize it, but you have among your breeding sisters one of the most talented healers of our time.”
Jahara swiveled her head, searching for one of her more-famous colleagues.
“Dr. Jahara Khateri, please, don’t be shy. Won’t you please stand?” Kylie waved her hand in her direction as applause once again broke out in the room.
Shaking her head, Jahara put her hand to her chest, unable to catch her breath. Heat rose in her face until she was sure the crimson flush on her cheeks was apparent even to those across the room.
Walking over to her, Kylie pulled her up by the elbow. “This is Dr. Jahara Khateri, birth child to the Honorable Ryniah Khateri, Chief Administrator of the Eastern Territory. We’ve been waiting a long time for her to arrive. This is her first breeding season.” Kylie emphasized the number with smug superiority. “You should be honored to call her sister.” The clapping and whispers rang unnaturally loud in Jahara’s ears.
“She’s not only here to breed, but she’s agreed to work in our healing facility. She may help deliver your offspring.” The applause grew louder.
Watching Kylie’s firm bottom retreat, Jahara dropped back into the chair, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Mortified by both the revelation that this was her first visit to the Garden and that she would be working in the birthing clinic was almost too much for her to bear. When she’d made arrangements to work in the hospital, no one had mentioned her responsibilities.
“You never said anything.” Attika spoke over the clapping. “Healers from my village talk about you all the time.” Attika rose to her feet, her hands slapping together with such enthusiasm the others couldn’t help but rise until everyone stood in the room, save for Jahara.
“Thank you.” Jahara waved them off. Her embarrassment now burned her ears. The clapping finally subsided and the women settled back into their seats. She had not expected such adulation.
“There is much to learn today, my sisters. This next part is my favorite.” Kylie rubbed her hands together with obvious glee. “The moment you all have been anticipating and probably secretly fearing for a long time. Your first look a
t an adult male breeder.” Stepping back, the hologram parted. “Please meet my current breeding partner Brenimyn.”
After the loud clapping, the silence reverberated throughout the room like a gong.
Chapter Three
The man walking through the holographic garden was just about the most perfect specimen of a human male Jahara had ever seen. The sleeveless, pale jade tunic was cut with a V that plunged just below his navel. The deep bronze of his skin glowed copper in the false sunlight pouring through the overhead windows of the low ceiling. His chest and arms were sculpted with muscles Jahara had only seen on the physiques of the trainers they used at the university where she’d honed her healing talents.
As he rotated for the women, the loose-fitting pants could not disguise the narrow hips or the tight, chiseled roundness of his backside. He walked to the center of the room and continued to model for them. The heavy set of his genitals swayed with each step of his bare feet.
The thick mop of blond waves on his head belied his ancestry. Unlike Kylie, he was true Olakuma. Only his eyes were different. They weren’t the deep blue of a raging river like Merenith’s, but the color of liquid ice. The irises were rimmed with a deep black ring that accented the pupil. Either his Dame or her male breeder had come from the Chinigan clan, like Jahara’s ancestors.
No doubt this male was the reason Kylie faked her ancestry. As the woman walked up behind him, Jahara couldn’t deny they made a striking couple. Kylie’s pride in her breeding partner was obvious in the possessive way she ran one hand up his torso, the other squeezing the firm curve of his buttocks. The male crossed his arms over his chest and smiled down at Kylie. With his feet spread nearly shoulder’s width, Brenimyn still towered over the instructor, and Jahara was once again drawn to the top of his thighs. The light from the holograph shown through the fabric, highlighting the heavy set of his masculinity.
