The room quieted as dinner was eaten. The sudden silence provided fertile ground for anxiety and fear to flourish.
“Agathe, did you take your pill?” said Jox, breaking into the gloomy thoughts she sensed were filling everyone’s heads.
“Yes, dear. I’m not too uncomfortable. Don’t worry about me. Have you come up with a plan?”
“I think so. Ladies,” she continued, “the way I see it, we have two choices. We can sit here, dependent upon the charity and whims of others, or we can take our fate into our own hands and send a scouting mission down those tunnels.”
“Dependent upon the charity and whims of others…perhaps that’s how the citizens of the Western and Eastern Quadrants feel,” Zania said. “We’re lucky the rebellion has come from the men and not those people. Their grievances are valid and speak of existential distress rather than injured masculine feelings.”
Jox pondered the sentiment. She had always focused on keeping everyone’s bellies full, but she hadn’t given much thought to how Palantine’s largess might impact the self-esteem of its recipients.
She nodded. “Thanks to your clever observation, Zania, we cannot assume we are in the EQ. Terminals are chilly because they’re underground. Our salvation may well lie at the end of one of these passages.”
Most of the women agreed, but there were a few holdouts. There always were.
Zania was one of them. “Why do you suppose they didn’t post a guard here to ensure that we didn’t do the very thing we’re contemplating? Maybe they’ve set a trap for us.”
“Why would they do that?” Jox felt herself getting impatient now. “If they were going to kill us, they would have done so already.”
“Not if they didn’t want to turn us into martyrs.”
The woman was right. She promised herself never to lose patience with someone who so clearly deserved it.
“I’m at a loss then. What should we do? You seem to have all the answers.”
“No, I only have all the questions.” Zania gave her a shy smile. “You’re the answer woman. But I think the worst thing we could do is to rush into something. Perhaps we should sleep on it. We’ve been through a lot today.”
Jox took a deep breath. “You’re right. Again. You may have just saved us from making matters worse.” She reached over to pat the woman’s hand, trying to summon what she knew of her personal history. She drew a blank.
“Dirty trays go in that tunnel,” said Tova with her mouth full. “I’ll prepare the food, but I won’t clean up after you all.”
Jox smiled. “No one would expect you to.”
Tova snorted. “That one would.” She pointed to Nodine who sat alone, barely touching her meal.
Jox sighed, discarded her tray, and then approached her adversary.
“What’s wrong, dear?” she said in the kindest voice she could muster.
“What’s wrong? What do you think is wrong? We’ve been abducted. We’ll probably be tortured and killed. My husbands must be worried sick about me. And I’m missing a hair appointment!” The last words came out in a sob.
If there was one thing Nodine hated, it was displaying weakness. Jox knew she wasn’t concerned about spouses or hair appointments. Well...not overly concerned. She was just frightened to death and didn’t want to show it.
She lowered her voice so no one would hear. “You’re going to make it out of this.”
“How do you know that? You can’t know that, stupid woman.” Unshed tears glittered in the violet eyes.
It wasn’t easy showing love to someone so thoroughly unlovable. Jox did it anyway, wrapping her arm around the slender shoulders and squeezing them with genuine affection.
“I do know it. Here’s why.” She uncurled her fingers. The marble gave her comfort. Perhaps it would give Nodine some as well. “This tells me that there are people out there fighting for us. Lots of people, our sisters and brothers who aren’t part of this nonsense.”
Nodine stared at the obsidian orb like it was a life preserver bobbing on a storm-ravaged ocean. “Yes, yes. I bet you’re right. Of course people are fighting for us. Why wouldn’t they? We’re their superiors, and we’re rich. They know they’ll be rewarded.”
She bit back a tart response. “Quite right. Now finish your dinner and set your pallet up closer to the heater. You’ll freeze to death all the way over here. There’s room next to mine.”
She gave the shoulders another squeeze, then moved on. It took her an hour to work through the room, listening to everyone’s concerns and suggestions, giving solace when needed and her undivided attention always.
Finally, she sank down onto her own pallet between Agathe and Nodine. She slid a notebook and pen out of a hidden blouse pocket, scribbled a few sentences, tore off the sheet of paper, then tucked it all back in.
Then she closed her eyes, thinking she thought she might toss and turn. Instead, she fell asleep almost immediately.
***
“Jox, wake up.” Agathe was jostling her, cutting short a lovely dream about a dark-skinned woman with braided hair and a musical laugh. There had been some hilarious joke about a stick, but she couldn’t remember what was so funny.
“They’re back.”
She struggled to sit, her errant spine stiff from sleeping on the hard surface, then got to her feet. Most of the women were already awake. Everyone shivered. The ethane had run out during the night, and no simulated flames leapt inside the heater.
“How did you manage? Are you freezing?” Jox asked her friend.
“No. Ralork’s coat kept me warm enough. I suppose I should thank him for it, but I’d just as soon spit in his face.”
The hostility was an encouraging sign. Agathe must not be in too much pain or she would be quiet and withdrawn.
“Greetings, ladies,” the first guard said. There were only two of them this time, one pulling the cart and another carrying a blaster. She was relieved to hear the voice of Blue Eyes.
“I hope you are well today,” she said to him.
He gave her an indulgent smile. “Please, Jox. I know you’re wishing we’d all die of chime-Ra. There’s no need for false pleasantries.”
She found herself returning the smile with a genuine one of her own. She maneuvered as close to him as possible without looking suspicious.
“We’ve run out of ethane for the heater.”
“Yes, I’ve brought more. Enough to last twenty-four hours.” He looked at her intensely now.
“Twenty-four hours?” she parroted, picking up on some subtle message hidden in the last sentence.
“Precisely.” He gave her a curt nod and turned away to unload the wagon.
The other women moved about, getting their morning meals ready and taking turns in the privy. Jox waited for Blaster Man to look away. Finally Nodine’s imperious voice and beautiful face caught his attention. He pivoted. Jox pressed a note into the hand of Blue Eyes as he turned to face her. His expression gave away nothing.
She released a lungful of air she didn’t know she’d been holding in. He might well have made a scene, demanding to know what she was doing and letting his partner in on her transgression.
“Very good, ma’am. You have supplies for twenty-four hours this time. Make them count.”
The men were gone the next moment.
“What did you give him?” Zania said. She had witnessed the covert transfer.
“A missive to my husband. I feel that he is involved in some way because of the marble. He’s the smartest person I know. If he was able to get it to me, he’ll somehow send a reply as well.”
Zania nodded. “What do you suppose happens in a day – besides the ethane running out?”
“You noticed that, too?”
“Yes.”
“I think he wants us to give them twenty-four hours. Not to try any kind of escape or retaliation.”
“I think you’re right. My instinct is telling me the same thing.”
“I don’t know how I can sit here do
ing nothing for that long.”
“Patience may not be a choice.”
When she shared their theory with the rest of the women, for once everyone was in accord. They would wait, either because they believed there was significance to the subliminal message, or the notion of being chosen for a scouting mission down one of those eerie tunnels was too abhorrent to consider. Jox herself would have volunteered, despite the likelihood of spiders.
“There’s plenty of food and water,” Tova said.
“Too bad they didn’t include some cards or embroidery thread,” Agathe muttered, scrawling the new items onto her inventory list.
“We’ll just have to create our own diversions. Let’s take the opportunity to get to know one another better,” said Jox, with a glance toward Zania.
“Horrendous.” Nodine sniffed at her bowl and grimaced. “I know all I need to about the rest of you. And what’s in this? It smells like it’s been eaten and regurgitated.”
“Yes, I’m sure they put vomit in the porridge.” Tova rolled her eyes.
“She makes a point, though.” Zania eyed her own bowl now. “Perhaps they slipped something in our food to sicken us. Or some kind of drug to make us more compliant.”
“Did anyone suffer any ill effects from dinner last night?” Jox asked, alarmed now and also disappointed in herself. The notion of drugs or poison hadn’t occurred to her.
A round of shaking heads gave her some relief.
“I didn’t have a bowel movement this morning, but that’s nothing new,” Agathe offered with a smirk. “That’s your future, ladies. You pee when you don’t want to, and you can’t poop when you do want to.”
“Do we really have any alternative to eating and drinking the food and water they give us?” Tova said after the laughter faded away. “We could go without calories, but not without hydration. If they were going to poison or drug us, I think they would have added it to the water. Eat your porridge, Nodine. It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”
“Indeed? That’s interesting,” Jox said. “Tova, I know you’re an excellent cook, so whatever unappetizing food you ate must not have been prepared by your own hand.” It was a statement designed to get the conversation going. Eventually, she would work her way to the mysterious, clever Zania, but she would start somewhere else.
“I wasn’t born into affluence, like you all.” Tova’s thick plait of blond hair evoked images of Easterners, many of whom were fair-skinned and pale-eyed, as was Tova. But that was where the similarities ended. She was heavyset, enjoying her food more than most, whereas the citizens of the Eastern Quadrant tended to be thin. Quite thin.
“Indeed? How did you come to achieve your status, then?”
“It’s a tradition in my family for the women to marry only once, which limits income, as you may well imagine. My ancestors emigrated from the East before immigration became banned in the Zone. I worked my butt off through middle and upper school, then went even further to attain my accreditations. Academics, not a pedigree, is the reason I sit at the Table.” If it was meant to be a barb, it went unnoticed. Nodine was busy being disgusted with her food.
“How fascinating. I never knew that about you. Agathe, tell us about your childhood. How many siblings did you have?”
“I had two brothers. Didn’t we all have brothers?” she laughed. “I loved them so much. Like Tova and myself, they achieved advanced accreditations. One became a successful engineer, and the other a scientist. They both entered into civil partnerships and have never produced offspring of their own. We enjoyed those youthful, carefree years near the border of the Western Quadrant, where my ancestors originated. You could probably discern that from my dark skin. It was always the plan for me to become a member of the Table, coming from one of the Exalted Families, like Nodine’s. But I’ve always felt the position should be earned rather than bestowed. Well done to you, Tova. I admire your determination.”
No one made eye contact with Nodine. Most of the women at the Table felt the same way. Yes, their female birthright and familial connections opened the door, but recent generations of Table members were achieving educations conducive to leadership. It was easier to fill the twenty-five Chairs now that females were finally rebounding. The citizenry could be choosier these days, voting for women with skills and knowledge over heritage and fiscal assets.
“Yes, yes. I see where this is going,” Nodine said. “And I don’t care. I know plenty, even if I don’t have the accreditations. Now it’s my turn for the privy. Everyone stay out. I need at least thirty minutes.”
She turned her back on faces that weren’t looking at her anyway, squared her shoulders, and disappeared into the dark tunnel carrying one of the lume-tubes the guards had included with their supplies.
“That wasn’t very nice, Agathe,” Jox whispered.
“Too bad. She’s not very nice and utterly unworthy of her post, as well as our good will.”
Jox didn’t respond, turning to Zania now.
“Zania, what about you? You’re new to the Table, and we know very little of your background. Tell us about yourself.”
The woman looked to be the same age as Jox herself, still within childbearing years. Had she borne children? Jox felt her own biological clock ticking, and despite many attempts with all her husbands, she had yet to conceive. Perhaps that was for the best. In a world with so few women, society pressured every female to produce children, even less than perfect ones. Those women’s families who succeeded in delivering females became more Exalted with each one. It was the pathway to elevated status, and with it came opportunities and wealth. Just as obsidian was rare and sought after, so were baby girls.
There was nothing more precious in a world glutted with boys.
“I wish I had a fascinating story to tell,” Zania said with a level gaze. “My family is not Exalted, but there was money to send me to the best schools, and my brothers and I always had enough food. Our mother and fathers treated us well. It was a happy childhood. Praise Him,” she added, almost defiantly.
Those two simple words told a story of their own. The mystery of Zania was being revealed. No wonder she hadn’t been forthcoming. The archaic worship of deities was uncommon, and in cases where it still continued, it was generally scorned by the secular population.
“I had no idea you were a Divinist.”
“I realize that sort of thing is looked down upon in these days of existential enlightenment. But it gives me comfort to believe in a Divine Creator. Now that’s really all I have to say about it. Let someone else take a turn.” Zania stood, thrust her chin out, and walked away.
Jox exchanged raised eyebrows with Agathe.
The older woman whispered, “She seems so intelligent for a Divinist.”
“Oh, Agathe.” Jox was mortified by the narrow-minded comment. And yet, hadn’t her own internal reaction been one of surprise?
“I’ve never heard your story, Jox,” Tova said. It was a daring statement. Most people didn’t broach that subject with the one who currently occupied the Tallest Chair.
The women’s eyes looked everywhere but upon Jox’s physical defects.
She had come to terms with her appearance a long time ago. Others were curious – perhaps morbidly so – about why she looked the way she did, and that was normal. Humans love to witness horror from a safe distance.
“I suppose it’s only fair. Most of you have been forthcoming, and it will put some of the more outlandish rumors to rest. Although I have enjoyed some of the especially creative and bizarre explanations for my unfortunate physical state.” She took a deep breath. “No, I wasn’t burned in a kitchen fire or injured in a transport accident. And no, I wasn’t part of some genetic cross-breeding experiment gone awry. That one is my favorite. The truth, as is often the case, is rather boring. This,” she gestured with her good hand to the other claw-like one, “and this,” she touched the droopy, purplish side of her face, “are merely birth defects. There’s a reason you haven’t met my mother. She l
ooked just like me. Sadly, she never came to terms with it. But as all patriotic females on our planet, she understood the societal directive to procreate. I never met my grandmother, but she looked like us, too. It’s quite callous to expect a woman to risk giving birth to monsters like me. But that’s how a family becomes Exalted, after all. The face and limbs don’t matter. Only the reproductive organs.” She grinned, hoping to dispel any unintended bitterness attached to her speech.
“You’re not a monster, dear,” Agathe said. Unshed tears made the amber eyes more luminous than ever. Even an elderly Agathe was more beautiful than Jox would ever be.
And it didn’t bother her one iota.
“Thank you, my friend. I don’t mind, really. I know that’s difficult to believe, but it’s true. I was given gifts to compensate for my appearance. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
When she said the words, she acknowledged the utter truth of them. It was a self-revelation, and it felt joyous.
“Perhaps we’ve had enough conversation for this morning,” Tova said, filling the uncomfortable pause. “I don’t have cards or embroidery thread, but I can transform the cutlery into pieces for Fox and Hounds. Who’s up for a game?”
***
The hours passed slowly. Jox knew the time of day because an antique watch held a place next to the ever-present notepad and pen. She obsessively wrangled with the implications of their abduction.
What was going on in the outside world?
Just when she thought she might lose her mind from impatience, the doors to the terminal banged open. The women, many of whom had been napping out of boredom, jumped to their feet. It was late afternoon, exactly one day since arriving at their repurposed prison.
Something dire was about to happen.
Ralork charged into the chamber wearing an even grimmer expression than usual. “Anyone interested in getting some fresh air? I’ll take one volunteer.” He was alone this time, but he held a blaster.
The Sublime Seven Page 25
