Garden of Serenity

by Nina Pierce

  “Once the digital feed loops,” Xylice continued. “It will cut out everything else to the cameras and the audio amplifiers. You’ll be able to speak freely at that time and move about without detection. Nothing new will be picked up on the cameras.”

  “You’re sure they’ll see only the two of us in the bedroom?” Jahara asked.

  Xylice covered her hand. “Jahara, editing a digital image is easy.” Her cheeks turned crimson as her gaze dropped. “I know your lovemaking is private, but I had to watch it several times to edit some of the more touching aspects. There was a little too much emotion. It wouldn’t be a good idea for them to hear you speak of love.” Shyly, she lifted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Anyway, with the sex and the sleep tape, you’ll have about two hours from the time the program begins until it ends. But you must be in the bed when the loop is finished.”

  Jahara rolled her eyes. “I don’t see how this can work.”

  “Jahara, you need to trust. At the foot of the bed to begin. In the bed before the loop finishes. It’s only a small thing, but it may give you some much-needed privacy.” Xylice squeezed Jahara’s hand. “Obviously your relationship is making them nervous. They’re growing increasingly skeptical.” She looked at her sibling. “I fear for your safety, but I don’t know how else I can help.”

  Brenimyn covered their joined hands. “We’ve known for a long time this change would not come about easily. But the time’s right. Everything’s falling into place.”

  Xylice’s communicator buzzed at her hip. “They’re becoming impatient. I’ve held them off as long as possible. I need to program the frequencies. Just remember—don’t rely on the looping too often or they’ll become suspicious.” Her personal communicator toned again. “I have to take this.” She inhaled. “There are many who will protect you, but just as many who will betray you at the first opportunity. Take care.”

  Standing up, Xylice walked away from them. “Xylice LeMoine here. Everything’s set.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jahara let the hot water of the shower massage her knotted shoulders.

  It had been a long, difficult week.

  Bresilee had called Jahara into her office and officially reprimanded her for saving Lukiam. She’d been consigned to two months at the well-check—as if that were some horrible punishment Jahara had to suffer through. Just as well. At this point, she’d rather be with the male breeders than have to endure the reproachful looks of the caretakers in the clinic who’d felt she’d infected their sacred healing space. Whatever.

  Nazaret had suffered no repercussions. Lukiam had been snuck out of the clinic in the dead of night, before the security detail could arrest him and now was well cared for by apprentice male healers somewhere in the ramblings of the agricultural section. Bren brought news daily on his recovery. It seemed the only positive thing coming out of the chaos.

  Merenith had cancelled her scheduled visit, but continued to call for updates on the movement. Their conversations on the vid-com had been coded and awkward and Jahara worried every time they spoke that she’d slip and give away information to those watching.

  Though Xylice had done what she could to allow her and Bren privacy, neither of them felt comfortable testing the limits of the video loop. Without the safety of the bathrooms, there was no way for them to talk of plans for the movement—or their love. Her growing concern over the impending revolution and her part in bringing about the new world order made their conversations strained and unnatural.

  At night, she sought Bren’s comforting embrace, drifting into a dream world high atop a mountain or lounging in the serenity of a summer meadow. Even in their protected world, apart from everything else, Brenimyn seemed purposefully vague about her role in the vision. Jahara had spent precious few hours in restless sleep, exhaustion and worry mixing to create an endless string of meaningless dreams.

  During the day, Brenimyn slipped away from the constant surveillance and spent his time in secrecy, meeting with breeders for the cause. If Bresilee granted his request to stand before the Governmental Body, there was much preparation work still to be done on the presentation.

  And Bresilee’s demands on her kept Jahara from accompanying him. Obviously, the medical director was doing anything she could to keep them apart. It was just as well, a foreboding sense of danger hung over her like a storm cloud ready to release a deluge of evil and Jahara needed to maintain some semblance of routine in a life suddenly out of her control.

  Bren had left their bed hours ago, encouraging her to rest, but sleep had been elusive. In the pre-dawn hours she’d finally given up and now stood under the steamy water, trying desperately to rein in the nervousness skittering over her trembling muscles. Jahara willed herself not to stare into the camera hidden in the tiles of the shower. There was another in the handle of the bathroom cabinet. Xylice had walked them through the whole apartment, meticulously showing them every hidden camera and audio amplifier. There wasn’t a shadowed corner anywhere in her residence to hide.

  Bresilee could be watching her right now. That thought soured in her stomach, causing her to dry-heave. The stress was making her increasingly ill. Enough. She was a grown woman. Her Dame had not reared her to back down from a fight.

  Humming a Chinigan lullaby, Jahara focused on her knotted muscles and willed the tension to slip away with the water swirling down the drain. She was strong enough to accept whatever came about. She lathered soap in her hands, briskly washing her body. The electrical jolt that ran up her arms, took her by surprise and she yelped at the unexpected sensation. Not wanting to alert anyone watching, she turned her back to the camera. With trembling fingers, she made slow, methodical circles on her belly just below her navel.

  There was no mistaking the thrum of life pulsing beneath her palm.

  Barely discernable among the normal gastric rhythms, the new life just beginning within her announced its presence. She felt the embryo dividing and growing and knew, with absolute certainty, it had been their lovemaking in the pool that had created this precious life.

  She wanted to yelp for joy, to run out in the street and announce to everyone she met that the love she shared with Bren had gifted her with a child. But knowing Bresilee and her cronies would likely use the baby as a way of controlling her, Jahara forced herself to remain calm.

  Rinsing off, she quickly toweled dry, her feet barely skimming the floor. She felt as if she’d sprouted wings as she rushed into the bedroom, hastily pulling on her blue tunic and skirt.

  They were going to be a family, in the way of the ancients—man, woman and child.

  * * * *

  “It’s all right, tell me.” Jahara could only see the thick lashes flutter, but the young man she spoke to would not look into her eyes.

  “Honorable healer, there is nothing wrong.” She watched his gaze flick to the red door.

  She stepped to the side, blocking his view of the end of the room. “And this doesn’t hurt?” She pushed gently on the protruding collarbone, feeling a twinge of guilt.

  He hissed through his teeth, dropping his shoulder from her touch. “It’s nothing.”

  “Then I don’t need to repair the damage.” Briskly clapping her hands together, Jahara made to move to the next man.

  “But …” His uninjured hand shot out, stopping her. He flushed, pulling it quickly back. “Forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” She bent to look at his face. He was no more than a boy. “Have you heard other breeders speak of me?”

  He nodded.

  “Then you should trust in what they say. I’ll heal only if you tell me you’re hurt.” She didn’t know why, but Jahara felt it was imperative these men believe in her.

  “I fell on the rocks while swimming at the lake.”

  She put her hands on him as he talked, her palms glowing with the power she’d been gifted.

  “The rocks were slippery and I came down hard on my shoulder.”

  “How many days ago?�
�� Jahara kept the boy talking. She already knew the answers to her questions, but she wanted to put him at ease as the broken bone mended beneath her hands.

  “A week, maybe more.”

  “Next time, don’t wait so long to come to me. There’s no need to be in pain.” Her hands heated and his skin glowed with the light of her power. The break mended and the awkward lump at the base of his neck disappeared. It hardly took any energy.

  She pulled her hands from his skin and his face split into a handsome smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes staring into hers. “Thank you.” He rotated his shoulder. “You’re all they say you are, most honorable Jahara.” He continued rolling his shoulder, laughing and shaking his head as he walked out of the well-check.

  There’d been nothing unusual about the morning, but she was bone-weary nonetheless. Before coming to the well-check, Jahara had contacted Nazaret on the vid-com, speaking in cloaked sentences about her horses, but actually inquiring about Lukiam. He limped weakly just within the camera’s range, but just as quickly ducked from sight. In that brief look, Jahara had seen the smile brightening the face that only days earlier had portended death.

  His body needed nothing more now than rest, good food and Nazaret’s love. Nazaret had promised to keep him in bed for another week until his body completely healed. Jahara laughed, knowing the woman didn’t intend to let Lukiam get much rest, despite his healer’s orders. If all went well, she and Nazaret would deliver their babies around the same time. She hadn’t said those words out loud. No one else would know until Brenimyn heard the news.

  Her hand absently rested on her belly as she moved to the next curtain and found the cubicle empty. She moved down the row, finding no one behind the curtains.

  “Collin, where are the men?” she asked, walking into the waiting area. Collin had made many changes in the last month. He’d found portable holograms and hung them about the walls. Decorative tables had been brought in, their surfaces covered with colorful plants and artful light fixtures that brightened the formerly dreary space. Even the walls and carpets had been cleaned and the putrid stench had dissipated with the gloomy atmosphere.

  “It’s the noon hour already. You have some time. I hope you don’t mind, but I had some food sent up from the dining common.” Collin walked over to her, his breeches flapping with his quick, little steps. She was grateful the men were now covering themselves. The nudity had been another way to degrade the breeders and in her well-check, it was unnecessary. Unless they required healing, she had no desire to see any man naked except Brenimyn.

  Collin took her by the elbow, guiding her to the new wooden reception desk that had replaced the battered metal furniture. “If I may say so myself, you’re not looking at all well. I think some food will do you good.” For all his feminine qualities, the hands on her shoulders pushing her into the plush chair at his desk were strong and firm. “I insist you eat. You need to keep your strength up.” He set a plate of fresh fruit and vegetables in front of her.

  “You eating?” She filled her fork, not realizing how hungry she was until her stomach grumbled protests.

  “Already ate.” He pulled up a chair and couched his chin in his hands. “Everything all right with you?”

  With her mouth full, all she could do is smile and nod.

  “You seem distracted this morning and a little more than tired.”

  The man was perceptive. “It’s been a long week. Brenimyn’s out again today. I’m worried for him.” She spoke around the food she shoveled into her mouth.

  “You’re not worried for your own safety in all that’s to come? It seems to me you have a big role to play in all of this.”

  Her head shot up in surprise.

  His smile was slow. “I may not be a breeder, but I am a man, Jahara. I know about the prophecy and the new world order. I’ve heard Brenimyn speak. There’s very little happening here in the Garden that doesn’t get spread through this office. It seems even male breeders think my brain was lopped off with my testicles. They don’t realize I hear everything.”

  They’d become good friends over the past weeks, but she’d never inquired about his upbringing. “Collin, how did you … I mean … your situation … who makes that decision?” She gestured at his lap, unable to ask about the castration.

  “Do you know nothing of the fate of the babies born here?”

  “Females, yes. My birth-sister is raising her daughter and my partner …” That’s not who Merenith was to her anymore. “I mean my friend, was raised in a school. But I’ve never thought about male babies.” Her heart twisted in her chest. She set down her fork, her hands covering her fragile fetus. Male or female, this child would be hers to love and raise with Bren by her side.

  “Male offspring are a whole different breed of animal.” He settled back in his chair and crossed his legs at the knee. “In the past, no female wanted their male infants,” he said quietly. “They were discarded like tainted food. When boys are born, they’re taken from their Dames. No questions asked. It’s not a choice.” He smiled at her. “Brenimyn’s kidnapping is legendary among the breeders. There have been other Dames who’ve done the same over the years, I’m sure, but none of the men ended up back here at the Garden. He was fortunate to have his freedom for so long.” Collin’s smile faded.

  “Most infant males are kept in a special place here in the Garden for less than a month. Even as a eunuch, I don’t know the location. We surmise it’s a nursery somewhere in the underground catacombs running beneath the Garden. Eventually, they’re all dispersed out to farms in the surrounding lands. They’re not enclosed like the Garden, but they’re isolated from other villages. The government fears another plague.” Collin’s eyes focused on a faraway memory.

  “We’re all raised together until the age of ten. The breeding stock is chosen early. The weak are sent away to a separate village and castrated.” He let out a derisive laugh. “They wouldn’t want poor quality genes to go into the next generation. Forget about intelligence or personality.” Batting his lashes, Collin splayed his fingers across his narrow chest.

  Jahara couldn’t help but smile at him. For all he’d been through, it amazed her that Collin had kept his sense of humor.

  “The breeders are raised by the Ginia clan, the same brawny women who work as guards here at the Garden. They beat the young ones into submission. No one is allowed to utter an opinion different from those drilled into them by the government. There’s always the threat of bodily harm if one tries to defy the laws or exert their independence. If they can’t be retrained, they’re punished, castrated and sent to cities as laborers. After the women demean the renegades and make examples of them, few dare to rebel. That’s why women don’t fear a revolt here at the Garden. They believe men would never disobey a woman.”

  Collin smoothed some wrinkles on his breeches before continuing. “Female breeding instructors go to the villages once a year to train those who have gone through puberty. They school them in the art of seduction and copulation. Before they’re ready they’re sent here to the Garden to join the breeding stock. Some who arrive are still boys.”

  Jahara hated to ask the question—wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer—but it would be unfair not to acknowledge her friend’s misfortune and everything the government had put him through over the years. “What about you, Collin, and the others they castrate?”

  “The eunuchs? Not many people, male or female, care about our fate. When we’re young, the women raising us beat and humiliate us, make us feel worthless. At a very young age they train us to do demeaning work. Wash and clean. Service to others is our only lot in life. We’re lower even than the laborers. I have brooding brothers who work as servants at the villages of the young breeders. It’s how I know what transpires there.” He shrugged, his half-smile sad and apologetic for knowing the information. “Some of us are fortunate to be assigned here at the Garden to work with the male breeders. We do the jobs the females couldn’t lower t
hemselves to do.” He spoke the facts with icy repugnance. “It’s still going on. Children suffering every day just because they had the misfortune of being born male.”

  A hot lump of emotion clogged her throat and tears burned in her eyes. “I had no idea. No one’s ever spoken of that fate of male children.” She leaned over and kissed his soft cheek. “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through. It’s all so … wrong.”

  Collin brushed a tear from her cheek. “You truly are an honorable woman among women, Jahara. There is no doubt in anyone’s mind that you have been sent to save us all from the government’s tyranny.”

  * * * *

  Mikalyn wanted to be anywhere, but stuck in Gabriella’s office here at the hospital, watching the woman come apart at the seams.

  “It’s imperative we completely sever the bond between these two as soon as possible.” Bresilee’s hands stirred the air as she continued to rant, her restless feet wearing a pattern in the thick rug. “That healer has been nothing but trouble since she entered the Garden and her breeder makes my skin crawl. We need to show these cretins who’s in control. Getting that good-for-nothing male out of the Garden will be the first step in crushing this foolishness.”

  Mikalyn’s stomach flipped. After she’d witnessed Jahara’s unselfish efforts to save Lukiam, she was sure she didn’t want any part of a plan that would harm the healer or her mate.

  “That computer person, Xylani, Xykile, or whatever her name is,” Bresilee impatiently brushed the name from her mouth, “has the feed from their apartment going to monitors in this office, security headquarters and my home. If Brenimyn and Jahara are planning some kind of coup we should be alerted in plenty of time.” Gabriella stopped pacing and focused all her anger toward her. “Mikalyn, did you hear me?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I was thinking of one of my patients.” She didn’t feel any compunction about lying to the woman who seemed to have taken complete leave of her senses in the last forty-eight hours.