Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles)

by La Porta, Monica

  Marie hurried to give her the cloth, which Rane used to dab the man’s forehead where blood oozed from a neat cut.

  “The report says it was accidental.” Rane cleaned the blood and then reached toward the tray for gauze. “Hold here with two fingers, but be careful not to put too much pressure.”

  Marie put her hand over the wound and then gingerly lowered it to keep the cloth in place. “Like this?”

  “Yes, like that.” Rane gave her a reassuring nod without looking at her, her eyes on the tray. “Must ask Madame Lana to give me more first aid supplies.” She cut a piece of skin-colored tape. “Thank you, now you can remove the cloth. Throw it in the garbage can that says ‘hazardous materials’ and then come back here.”

  “Hazardous material?” Marie didn’t like the sound of it and looked at the gloves she was wearing.

  “Anything that touches a man is considered potentially infective. Higher directives. We must follow protocol. You’re safe. The only thing those men carry is their unlucky genes.”

  Marie disposed of the bloodied cloth in the special bin and then returned to Rane’s side, waiting for instruction. Her eyes darted right and left when she thought the doctor wasn’t minding her.

  “Looking for something?” Rane hadn’t moved from her position, bent over the unconscious man, closely checking that the wound was cleaned. “Someone?”

  “I see there’re fewer patients today.” Marie hoped the doctor didn’t turn and see the crimson rapidly coloring her fair skin. Sometimes, like now, she wished to have the same dark complexion as Rane or Verena.

  “A good day. We have some of them once in a while. But they’re rare. Don’t get used to this peace. It normally doesn’t last long.” Rane showed her a needle and a thread. “Come closer and look. You need to learn fast here. As you can see, we’re kind of short on personnel.”

  Marie observed as the woman closed the wound on the man’s forehead by putting together the edges of the slash between the fingers of her left hand and passing the thread in and out of his skin with her right hand. The doctor worked with slow and methodic gestures, breathing evenly through the process. When the gash was completely sutured, she finally turned and smiled at Marie.

  “Good job,” Rane said to her.

  “Well, thanks, but for what?” Marie cleaned the tray and threw the used material away.

  “You just passed an important test.” Rane went to the closed cabinet by the entry door and retrieved something from it.

  “Did I?”

  “Congrats, you’re officially my new training nurse.” The doctor offered her the folded green scrub she was holding. “Unless you aren’t interested anymore. Then you’re free to leave now,” she added when Marie didn’t make a move to accept her gift.

  “No second thoughts, I want to do this.” Marie just realized that she had passed a test indeed. Until a few minutes ago, she had always fantasized about becoming a doctor someday, and as a fathered woman, her chances were slim. But thanks to Rane, she now knew she wanted to help people, and it didn’t matter if she would ever be a doctor as long as she was working in a medical facility. And the part she would’ve never imagined was that the gender of the patient didn’t matter to her. She hadn’t thought for a moment that Rane was working on a man while the doctor carefully stitched his wound. It hadn’t mattered in the least. She had focused on the part to be treated and forgot the rest of the world existed. “I can do this.”

  “I can see that.” Rane’s eyes shone bright and Marie felt proud of herself.

  The rest of the day passed in relative tranquility. She wondered how Grant was, and her eyes darted once or twice to the bed where he had lain the day before, but she was careful not to let the doctor see her. Two workers were brought in at the end of Marie’s shift and she offered to stay. Both men had light injuries on their arms and torsos. When asked what had happened, they refused to say a word. Dinnertime came and went, but she helped Rane until none of the men were left to tend to.

  “All in all, it was a great day.” The doctor stretched her arms and tilted her head first toward her right shoulder and then the left, finally forward and backward with a big, contented sigh. “Tonight I can go to bed in my room.”

  “Do you sleep here sometimes?” Marie massaged her arms up and down. Now that they had stopped working, she felt cold.

  “Most of the time. It’s so early in the morning when I finish with my patients that I’m too tired to haul my butt five floors up, so I just lie on one of the beds and nap before morning comes and everything starts again.” Rane went to restock the first aid packages and lined them up on one of carts. “Go, get some rest. Tomorrow could be a different day.”

  “Have a good night’s sleep, Doctor.” Marie doffed and folded the scrubs, then put it in the small cubicle Rane had freed for her. She was already opening the door to leave, when the doctor called her. “Yes?”

  “You didn’t ask about your patient from yesterday.” Rane’s dark eyes held a mischievous light.

  Marie felt the urge to lower hers. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, I released him early in the morning. He was feeling much better and the guards needed him to finish some maintenance job.” Rane kept looking at her.

  “Good… See you tomorrow, then.” Marie wanted to run away, but the doctor’s stare was pinning her to the spot.

  “See you tomorrow, Marie.” A smile curved Rane’s mouth.

  After a solitary dinner, Marie went straight to shower and then to her room. Verena was out and she was happy to have the place for herself. One of the few things she had come to appreciate at Redfarm was the privacy one could have. She put on her nightgown, softly combed her hair, and then went to lie on her bed only to have her routine disturbed by an intermittent light illuminating the room. “What…?” When the phenomenon didn’t cease, she went to the window to see what was causing it. After a moment of blindly staring at the glass panel without being able to see anything, she noticed a pattern in the length of the light and following darkness. It kept repeating in a loop, until she understood someone was sending a message of sort in Morse code. “What is it?”

  When nothing more than little girls, Marie and Idra had spent whole afternoons playing spies with the other girls, happily dreaming of adventures and exotic places they had read about in the magazines they stole from Madame Carla’s closet. The rector had a penchant for gossip tableaux, but must have been ashamed of it because she took great care in hiding the proof of her vice inside a box stashed under blankets in her closet. Discovering such treasure had been the pinnacle of their spying agency. Unfortunately, they had been eager to share their success and Madame Carla had shut down their operation with a stern rebuke before the whole Institute. The memory stole a smile from her, but Marie’s knowledge of Morse code was rusty at best. Not enough mysteries to solve or exotic places to go if you were a fathered woman.

  T… H… A… what else? Marie squinted at the window as if it helped deciphering the letters. N… K… S… Long pause. M… A… R…I…

  “What are you doing?” Verena asked, tapping on Marie’s back and making her jump out of her skin.

  “What the heck, Verena!” One hand on her chest to silence her galloping heart, Marie sat on the edge of the desk. “At least make some noise.”

  “I called you.” Verena stepped back and went to her bed.

  “Did you?” Marie saw the intervals of light and darkness dancing on the walls, but refrained from looking at the window.

  “I did. What’s this, anyway?” Verena gestured toward the window and back to the display taking place.

  “I have no clue.” Thanks, Marie. She shrugged, feeling like the worst of liars. Then, thinking that she would’ve lied about this even to Idra, it made her feel terrible. What on Ginecea is happening to me?

  “Is someone using Morse code?” Verena opened the window and the light flickering stopped right away. “Hmmm, strange.” She turned to face Marie, who, at loss for words, shrugged
again. “How long did it last?”

  “Just started.” Marie tucked herself in her bed and pulled the sheets and quilt up to her chin.

  6

  “This was left for you.” Rane pointed at a small package lying on one of the infirmary’s carts. Marie had just entered the room. The doctor was taking a worker’s temperature and writing down notes on a pad, slightly swirling on her wheeled chair. “Aren’t you curious? I am.” She raised her eyes from the pad.

  Marie went to the cart and looked at the small package without daring to touch it; her name was on it, written in neat handwriting over a faded newspaper page used to wrap it, and a piece of rope closed it. “Who sent it?”

  “It was outside the door when I opened the infirmary two hours ago.”

  Marie leaned toward it and then stopped.

  “For Goddess’s sake! It isn’t going to bite you.” Rane wheeled her chair to the cart, took the package, and threw it at Marie, who, taken by surprise, almost missed it. “Good catch.”

  Marie looked at the small item and passed it from one hand to the other, trying to understand what it could be.

  “Open it.” Rane sighed. “Or I’ll do it for you.” She reached out to take the package from Marie’s hand.

  “Gimme a second!” Marie tore the paper away before Rane could get hold of it. “Oh…”

  “What is it?”

  Marie stared at the gift she had just unwrapped. “A piece of marzipan.” No point in hiding it.

  “We have an admirer, don’t we? How romantic.” Rane smiled at her. “Do you know who could it be?”

  “Not a clue.” Grant. Her heart had a strange reaction at the thought he had sent her the gift.

  “Well, she must know your tastes to send you marzipan of all things.” The doctor was back to her patient, giving Marie her back.

  “She must.” She went to her cubicle to pick up her scrubs and leave the gift she had already carefully rewrapped. Without being asked, she started sweeping the floor and then dusted the counters. A peculiar sense of happiness spread through her.

  During the day, the door of the infirmary opened several times for the guards escorting workers to be patched. Every time, Marie’s heart sped up, leaving her utterly confused when disappointment struck at the realization it was just the guards and some random man. At lunch break, she asked to be excused and left with the intention to eat with her friends. As soon as the infirmary door closed behind her, her legs, acting on their own will, brought her to the cellars’ entry. What am I doing? Her doubt was short lived because a moment later, she entered the cellars. Her eyes went to the far wall where she knew the little window was. From a distance, everything looked exactly as it should, but she walked directly to the wall and found the evidence the opening had been recently used and hastily closed. A fine dust had settled on the floor, and when she looked at the wall closely, it was possible to see light coming through cracks between the bricks. Whoever had used the passage hadn’t had time to patch the gaps in the wall.

  Acting on impulse, she tapped on one of the bricks. “Is there anybody there?” she asked in her smallest voice. When nobody answered, she pulled one of the corners of a brick toward her, repeated the question, obtained no answer, and finally removed the brick from the wall. She peeked at the other side and was disappointed with the view. The room seemed uninteresting, just a large storage closet with brooms and buckets. She stood before the opening she had just made, hoping for… She didn’t even know what exactly, and then put the brick back where it belonged.

  She was leaving when the sound of steps coming from the other side made her stop. As before, curiosity won and she stood still instead of walking back to the infirmary, or better yet, showing her face in the cafeteria where she was supposed to be eating.

  “Do you reckon it’s true, then?” A mature voice Marie recognized.

  “It must be.” Grant.

  She felt that little whoosh in her stomach she was starting to associate with him.

  “I think you risked too much…”

  “I can’t live what’s left of my life without hope. It must be true. I need something to live for. I can’t go through another day hoping the captain isn’t going to look my way.” Grant sounded sad, tired.

  Marie was deeply touched by his words.

  “And you think I like it? Of course not, but what would happen if we finally manage to escape and this City of Men doesn’t exist? Assuming we leave and we’re not caught by Callista’s guards, like you were three times already. Assuming we don’t die outside in the desert. Assuming we ever reach this place—”

  “I don’t want to think of all the things that could go wrong. I just want to leave this place and never come back.”

  Marie could imagine Grant’s motions by the vehemence of his voice.

  “I wish for all of us you’re right and this fabled place exists. We sure could use some hope. Anyway, let’s get some rice. We’ve lingered enough already.” The older man finished his speech and the steps sounded closer to the wall.

  Marie was at the end of the cellars before the brick was removed once again.

  “Eat well?” Rane asked a few seconds after Marie silently entered the infirmary.

  She looked at the doctor, confused by her question, the conversation between the older man and Grant still playing in her mind. She blurted out one barely audible “yes.”

  “Glad to hear that.” Rane showed her a tray on the cart by her side. “I’ve been informed by her highness, Captain Callista herself, that there’s some kind of virus spreading among the workers. Wear the mask and wash your hands frequently.”

  True to her words, not even an hour later, annoyed guards started bringing men to the infirmary. Almost every one of them presented the same symptoms. When the sixth man came down with severe dehydration due to a stomach bug, the doctor asked what they had to eat for breakfast. Then when the answers she obtained didn’t convince her, she started uncovering them, looking for something. Marie looked at her, Rane carefully passing her hands over some of the men’s arms and backsides. Rane bared more than Marie was ready to look at and she busied herself with something else. Suddenly Marie’s skin was too warm and she went to refresh herself in the bathroom.

  Marie returned a few minutes later. “What kind of virus is it?” She affected a detachment she didn’t feel and her whole front wet due to a vigorous encounter with the water.

  “Virus my butt.” Rane gestured for her to come close to one of the men she was sponging with a soft cloth. “Look. What do you see?”

  That he’s almost completely naked? Somehow, she knew that wasn’t the correct answer. “His skin looks… reddish?” It was the only thing she had noticed.

  “Yes, and what else?” Rane made space for her to step even closer and her eyes went to the man’s arm.

  Marie diligently followed her gaze and saw a small red dot at the center of a small swollen circle on his skin. “He got a shot?”

  “They all got shots this morning.” Rane’s eyes encompassed the rest of the room, where some of her patients were still sick after hours of continuously emptying their stomachs.

  “Are they vaccinating them or what?” Marie looked too. They’d had to ask for additional buckets. The ones they had were not enough.

  “Who knows?” Rane looked like a person who indeed would know, but Marie didn’t press the matter.

  She realized something. “None of them were here in the past three days.”

  “What?” It was Rane’s turn to look surprised.

  “None of these men, not even one, have visited the infirmary since I started working here.”

  “You’re right.” Rane smacked her forehead, then looked at her with renewed respect. “You’re absolutely right. This means the women are experimenting with healthy specimens.”

  “Experimenting?” Marie looked at the workers and shivered at the notion of experimenting on human beings. Yes, they were men. But still. They felt pain as women did. She had p
lenty of evidence before her eyes. “What kind of experiments?”

  “New vaccines and experimental drugs are tested on workers…” Rane’s voice faded as her eyes seemed to focus on something that eluded Marie. Then the doctor’s attention was snatched back into the room and she gave Marie a startling look. “I don’t understand… There’re sementals among these men. Normally sementals are left alone.”

  Marie winced. “Do they have… those here? Why?” Although she wanted to become a nurse and she had accepted that she had to train on men first, the mention of sementals still stirred her sensibility. She wasn’t as offended as she would have been a few weeks ago, but years of Madame Carla’s teaching had shaped her to be the fathered woman she was and talking of sementals was improper. “Redfarm isn’t a—”

  “Redfarm isn’t a semen factory, but we still keep track of good specimens that could be better employed. We test them before sending them to their final destination,” Rane answered, oblivious to Marie’s embarrassment. “But what kind of drugs could they be testing?” She paused a moment, as if collecting her thoughts, then sighed. “They must be playing with the semen enhancers again. Can’t believe after they lost so many workers last time, they’re still pushing—”

  Marie had reached her limit. “Who are they, exactly?”

  “The Temple’s doctors.” Rane started pacing back and forth from one wall of the infirmary to the other.

  “What temple’s doctors?” Marie saw Rane’s raised eyebrow and gasped. “The Priestess’s Temple?”

  “What else? The Temple’s doctors go from facility to facility, looking for fresh subjects to experiment on.”

  “But—” Marie was confused. The Temple was the holy place where pure breeds went to have their daughters. Fathered women held the place in high esteem—probably higher than the pure breeds themselves did—because they rarely put foot inside of it. In fact, the few of them who had were treated like royalty. Hearing Rane talking about the Temple in association with sementals and what they were bred for was blasphemy. She was so shocked she couldn’t say all the things a good fathered woman should’ve said in such circumstance.