Ethan sighed. “I was hoping we could put the past behind us and move on. The Solution is delicate and I really need you on my side.”
Margaret smiled at the words “need”. It gave her a sick sense of satisfaction to know that he needed her, even after everything she’d been through.
“I’m sorry about the things I said all those years ago.”
Margaret smiled. “No you aren’t. You’re not sorry for anything. You’re just glad that you never had to deal with any of it. You never had to bury your own baby.” Her voice cracked. “You never had to feel the pain.”
Ethan remained silent. The car turned towards the Ministry building, which hadn’t changed so much; there was even a crowd of protestors, just like the Fracture. The car negotiated this by using a back entrance which led to an underground car park accessible by fingerprint. The car pulled up. It was time for Margaret to face up to the fact that she’d come back where everything started.
*
At the funeral it rained. Dark clouds knitted over the tops of the trees, and Maggie let the rain fall down her face. She didn’t cry.
Her mother stood with them as they watched the tiny coffin lowered into the ground. Maggie watched Derek sob into his hands with cruel thoughts about him not being the father. No one deserved to mourn Joseph except her. He was her son, or should have been.
“The poor mite,” Harriet said when they were back at the house. “He didn’t even have a chance to live in this world.”
Maggie sat in her wet clothes on their new sofa. She stared into space while Derek fetched a fresh pot of tea. They all wore black, and Maggie mused that it was almost like a real funeral – like when her grandparents died. But they’d lived to be old people. They’d had a real life. They’d breathed oxygen and eaten food and seen the sky. She didn’t know what it was they’d buried in the cemetery today, whether he’d been a real person or not.
“I should have just got rid of him when he was a cluster of cells,” Maggie said.
Both Derek and Harriet stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at Maggie, whose unfocussed eyes gazed into nothing. Derek placed the teapot down on the table and turned to his wife.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you go and change out of those wet clothes?” he said.
“No,” she replied.
Derek and Harriet shared a look.
“What was that?” Maggie snapped. She sat forward in her seat and her eyes flashed from Derek to her mother and back to Derek. “What was that look?”
“We’re worried about you,” said Harriet. “We’re worried you aren’t coping very well.”
“You think I’m hysterical,” Maggie said.
“No, not at all.”
“We don’t think that sweetheart.”
Maggie watched them reply together and knew that they were in on it. They were ganging up on her. She was alone in this life now. Joseph had left her. She had a husband she didn’t love and a mother who didn’t love her. Her father hated her. Harriet had told him about the miscarriage but he still refused to talk to her. She was alone. She’d sacrificed everything for Joseph and he’d just given up and died. She was so angry. Sometimes she got so angry she couldn’t see straight.
Maggie stood up and picked up a teacup from the table.
“Would you like some tea, love?” Derek asked.
“No I do not want any tea.” Maggie threw the cup at the wall and it smashed into tiny pieces. “Tea is not going to make anything better. Neither is burying him and having this stupid funeral. He was never born. He didn’t exist.”
“Maggie––”
“It’s MARGARET. Maggie was an idiot. She messed up her life. I’m not her. I won’t be her.” Maggie reached up to her head and began pulling clumps of hair from her scalp. “I won’t be her anymore.”
*
It was Derek who re-painted the nursery and quietly turned it into an office. Derek spoke to the head-teacher at St Jude’s comprehensive and arranged for Margaret to get a job. He tried to broach the subject of children. He suggested they acquire a designer baby from the GEM, just like Margaret’s dad had suggested, but she didn’t want another baby. She just wanted Joseph. So she took her pills and fulfilled her wifely duty. She didn’t see any point in leaving Derek. She didn’t love him but she felt as though she would never love again. It was almost as though all the love had left her body when she gave birth to Joseph. Every time she looked at a child at St Jude’s school she felt herself asking the Universe why they got to live and her son didn’t. She was consumed by it.
At night she avoided Derek by staying up late, working on theories she’d devised a few years ago but never written down. The nursery had been transformed into an office with a wide desk on one wall and a huge ant farm across the opposite wall. Margaret sat with her chair turned towards the ants, watching as they scuttled through the tiny tracks in the dirt, working for their queen and enhancing their home. She admired the way they relied on their instincts. She wished she could switch off her mind and live like she was nothing more than a team member; a cog in a machine, without any conscious thought or feelings.
She wondered if she could create that. Imagine if the world had an army with the hive mind of an ant colony. Imagine if there was a leader as powerful as the queen ant controlling that army. She became obsessed with that thought, of contributing something powerful to the world. The ethics behind the GEM didn’t bother her anymore. Why should she care about anyone else when she couldn’t have the one thing she wanted? Instead, she could unleash all hell onto the world and not care about it at all.
Chapter Eleven
“I still can’t believe it actually worked.” Margaret poured herself a large Scotch from Ethan’s private selection. “When I sent in that article I never thought I would get to see the results. Part of me hoped I would, and part of me hoped I never would.” She gulped down the fiery liquid.
Ethan leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. Margaret watched with disgust as his stomach protruded from over his tight trousers. She couldn’t believe that this was the man controlling the country. She glanced at the door, wondering if she could make a run for it. She couldn’t stand the fact that such an amoral and corrupt man was in charge of the millions of people still alive after the Fracture. Her Scotch attempted to work its way back up through her system.
“You’re a clever woman, Margaret,” he said, lifting his glass to salute her. “The pheromones were the key. They sense each other through smell, just like ants. They leave trails of lovely stinky pheromones wherever they go and each one of them follows their team members around. When one dies they emit even more pheromones, causing their teammates to swarm to their rescue.
“The best part of the army is the fact that the clones are all extremely stupid. We’ve made them that way. They have the intelligence of a horse, and like a horse, if you lead them into battle, they will die for you. In fact, we’ve programmed in a leader for the army. They will recognise that person’s pheromones and bow to them as leader. That person will control everything they ever do.” He took a swig of his Scotch and belched.
Margaret listened to Ethan whilst stood in the centre of the room. Now, she found a sudden desire to sit, and collapsed into the leather sofa opposite a large bookcase. The furniture in the room was just as showy as Ethan’s car.
“Who is this leader? If you have them, then surely you don’t need me? You’ve already applied all of my theories. You’ve built the army. So why have you dragged me all the way down to London? Is it just to brag? Is it just to hurt me with your presence? Did you want your revenge after our son died?” She met his eyes for the first time.
Ethan’s cheeks puffed up with annoyance. “Our son? That was no son of mine. I have a son, a man who began life in the correct way, in the incubators at the Ministry, not some bastardised foetus in your womb.” He looked at her body with disgust. “I gave my son the best start in life.”
Margaret’s glass smashed bet
ween her fingers. “How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare you? It’s been over fifteen years, Margaret, and you’re still not over this? Women have been losing children in childbirth for thousands of years, and yet your loss is somehow more important that everyone else’s? Get. Over. Yourself.” He poured another drink. “I feel sorry for Derek having to live the rest of his days with you and your bitterness. You’ve become a nasty piece of work, Maggie. You’re cruel and vindictive and just plain sad. This isn’t how you deal with grief. You don’t take it out on the rest of the world for almost two decades.”
“As far as I can see, Ethan, you’ve put my own special form of grief to good use. You’ve got your own personal army out of it.” Margaret looked down at her bleeding hand.
Ethan grinned. “Yes, that is true. I suppose I have you and my deceased son to thank for that.”
Margaret’s cheeks heated and her eyes narrowed. “You’re a pig, Ethan. I can’t believe I ever slept with you.”
“I can.” He straightened up his chair and removed his feet from the desk. “I was pretty good-looking back then.”
“Yeah well, now you’re just fat.”
He laughed. “I know, it’s great isn’t it? At least my wife is attractive enough for the two of us.”
Margaret looked away in disgust.
“You’ve not aged so well yourself, Margaret,” he said with a jubilant smile. “You look at least ten years older than your age. Probably a good job old Derek copped it in that car accident before he had chance to watch you get ugly.” Margaret had no energy to respond so Ethan moved on. “As I was saying. The army responds to one leader and we’ve used their pheromones to train them. That person is you.”
“What?”
“Remember when you first started at the GEM, and to show you the ropes on the DNA sequencer Derek asked you to provide a sample?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Well that sample was kept in storage along with all the other samples. I thought it would be poetic to use it for this purpose. It’s rather beautiful, is it not?”
Margaret didn’t reply. She couldn’t find the words.
“Well I think it is. And now, I suppose, you finally have your children, all ten thousand of them. Hopefully, then, we’ll be able to get rid of this little Resistance problem.”
Margaret’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. Ten thousand soldiers and she was the leader?
“But I don’t have any military experience?” she said.
“Don’t worry; you’ll have advisors who will help you with every strategy. Plus, you have all that experience working with Area Security, although you did make a bit of a balls up of everything.” He took another sip of his Scotch and watched her over the glass. “Would you like to see them?”
“Who?” Margaret asked.
“The soldiers.”
*
The car pulled up alongside a huge warehouse. They were outside the main city but still within the boundary walls. Ethan exited the car first with Margaret trailing behind. She was a little unsteady from the Scotch and the revelations from Ethan’s office. The sun glinted and she narrowed her eyes against it.
“Prepare to be impressed,” Ethan said. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and stretched his back as the driver unlocked the doors to the warehouse.
Inside, they followed a corridor past an office and a small kitchen unit. Through a window Margaret saw dozens of young men hanging around making sandwiches, cleaning or making their beds. When they saw Margaret they stared at her with hungry curiosity in their eyes.
“When you’re out on field duty you might not want to wear so much perfume. The response will be more instantaneous that way,” said Ethan. “In fact, you might not want to shower for a few weeks.” He smiled and opened another door into a long, never-ending room.
It was the biggest room she’d ever seen and it was full of more young men, standing around either grooming, cleaning, eating or sleeping. There were so many men that Margaret’s instinct was to turn away and run away as fast as she could. But then something extraordinary happened. The men all stopped what they were doing and sniffed the air. Many of them shouted commands and Margaret jumped at the sudden noise. They spoke in unison. Then, in what felt like less than a second, all of the men snapped to attention and stood very still with their hands to their sides and their chins in the air, facing forwards and ready for action. They stood in line, waiting for inspection, or instruction. They stood in line, waiting for her.
“I told you it was impressive,” said Ethan. “They are all fourteen years old, but we have enhanced their athleticism to that of much older men, and accelerated puberty.”
Margaret stepped towards the first line of men. They were all identical, with short mousy hair and hazel eyes. They wore simple white uniforms, each with a number stitched onto the suit. As Margaret walked down the line she realised with surprise that the soldiers had lined up in numerical order.
She walked back to Ethan. “You want war.” She didn’t know why she sounded surprised. She knew that he’d created an army based on her own research.
“I don’t want a war, Margaret, I want to win. And you are going to make sure that happens.”
She turned back to the men. She couldn’t see any other outcome, not when they would be unleashed onto the Resistance. For the first time in days – she smiled.
A Note from the Author
A huge thank you for supporting independent authors by buying this book. As an author who has self-published her book, I rely on readers to spread the word. Why not take a moment to do just that, and leave a review?
Also by the Author:
The Blemished (Blemished #1)
The Vanished (Blemished #2)
The Fractured: Elena (Fractured #1) (Blemished #2.5)
Coming Soon:
The Unleashed (Blemished #3)
Turn over for an EXCLUSIVE look at the first chapter of THE BLEMISHED:
Blemished Extract:
1
Once, my mum told me a story about a princess, and it began with her stuck in a castle. My story begins with my head stuck in the toilet.
It was my first day in Area 14 and my first opportunity to make a good impression at the school appropriately named St Jude’s. Any school with the Blemished as pupils deserved the saint of lost causes as their patron. I’d approached the old Victorian building with a hopeful feeling; this was a new start, a chance to finally make friends. But it was the same hopeful feeling which was beaten away within the hour. An hour was all it took for a GEM to push my head down the toilet and flush.
Her bony hand squeezed my skull. Water pulled my skin. It flooded my nose. I choked and my fingernails scraped the porcelain. I thought – this is how I am going to die, with my face being sucked down a drain. Then, I almost did it again. In the twitch of my fingers I felt the urge to do the one thing my father told me I could never do. The thing which would get us both killed.
“Now you know your place, Blem,” said the girl. She released me and I gasped for air. “Next time I won’t let you go.”
Her heels sounded against the tiles and the girl and her group ran off in giggles. I dragged myself up from the floor with shaking legs. At the sink, I took a deep breath and tried to calm my pounding heart and quell the rising disappointment. This was supposed to be my fresh start away from Area 10. I removed my headscarf and laughed. Moving here was supposed to keep me safe. Like my dad said – out of the frying pan and into the fire.
“If you can’t stand the heat…” I mumbled to myself.
“Are you all right?”
I jumped. When I turned there was a dark skinned girl staring at me sheepishly with a charming gap-toothed smile. On her black tunic she wore the Symbol of the Blemished – a circle containing a simple cross to remind us how we are the cross that society has to bear. Just like me. She was slightly plump and I estimated her age at fourteen, perhaps a tall thirteen, with pretty brown eyes.
<
br /> “I’m sorry I didn’t step in…” she trailed off and stared down at her hands which never stopped worrying the long sleeves of her tunic.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “There’s no point both of us getting a beating.” I forced a smile to show no hard feelings. After all, I needed at least one ally in this awful school. I turned back to the sink and squeezed at my soaked headscarf.
“It’s just that, well, these toilets are GEM only and I only popped in because I was desperate,” the girl rambled. “Elena Darcey is a total cow. She thinks she owns the school because she might have a shot at London.”
A jolt ran down my spine. I had to remind my hands to keep going.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” the girl asked, her face scrunched with concern.
“Perfectly,” I lied.
“I’m Angela by the way.” She stepped towards me but I didn’t turn around, just watched her in the bathroom mirror. “You must be Mina Hart, the new girl.” She laughed quietly. “We don’t get many new girls at St Jude’s. Well, at least none that are Blemished. Here, let me help. It’s the least I can do.”
Angela pulled the scarf from my fingers and stretched it out underneath the hand dryer. The dark fabric billowed out, reminding me of the Resistance flag. I’d seen photos of them protesting once, my dad showed me. But then I thought of her and I had to close my eyes to regain composure.
“Is it always like this here?” I asked to break the drone of the hand dryer, raising my voice above the noise.
“Elena is nothing compared to the teachers,” Angela replied with a sigh. “Don’t talk back to the GEMs or Murder-Troll will put all Blemished on cleaning duty after class.”
The Fractured: Maggie (Fractured #2) (Blemished Series) Page 6
