The Breeding Tree

by J. Andersen

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Speaking of charming, I think I’ll go find Jessica. See if she’s still immune to my advances.”

  In seconds, Jaxon is gone, and I turn to Micah. “I’ve never known anyone like him.”

  “And you never will.”

  We hasten to a waiting area and settle. “How’s your sister?”

  “Doing better today. Still sore, but she’s awake.”

  “What were the complications? Is she going to be okay?”

  “Her blood pressure had dropped. She’d been pushing for hours with no success. The baby was stuck. If they didn’t do something, the baby’s oxygen could be cut off, resulting in all sorts of problems. The doctors could tell the baby was in distress, but couldn’t get it out.”

  The look on my face must clue him in that I still don’t understand.

  “Like the Cesarean we learned about in class?” The whole birth process was foreign to me other than what I read in my medical books under the history section. I recognized the term, but couldn’t remember what it meant.

  “It’s where they cut into the mother’s stomach and uterus and pull the baby out. Come to find out, Ally’s birth canal wasn’t large enough to birth a baby. She would have died if she’d continued to try. So would the baby.”

  “I can’t believe they cut her open to take it out.” I know I sound ignorant, but these things just don’t happen at the Institute. Besides, it was practices like Cesareans that led to The Institute forming the Creation Unit and to move away from primitive practices that exposed women in such ways. Modesty is more important. What happened last night was downright barbaric.

  Micah and I move toward the door to Ally’s room. I hear the quiet beeping of monitors as we push the wooden door aside. Micah peeks his head in first. “Stay here for a second. Let me see if she’s up for visitors.”

  I wait alone in the hallway staring at the plain square tiles until Micah comes to the door again.

  “Come on in,” he says slowly pushing the door aside and allowing me to pass.

  I’m taken aback by the youth of the girl in the dilapidated hospital bed and am surprised at how different she is from Micah. His stature and dark features are the contrast to her tiny, frail-looking frame. Her thick, blonde hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her face is still freckled with light acne, but she’s pretty, nonetheless. Despite these differences, I can tell they’re brother and sister. It’s in the eyes. Hers sparkle in the same shade of his: gray, almost silver. And there’s a defiance in her look that Micah has as well. Determination.

  I stand as far back in the corner as I can; I don’t want to be a bother. Maybe the shadows will hide my apprehension to meet this girl who’s lived so much more of life than I’ll ever know. But it doesn’t work. Micah turns to me and reaches out for my hand, pulling me to him and next to the metal framed bed.

  “Ally, this is Kate.” His smile widens like he’s showing off a prized possession.

  The girl scoots up in the bed and rearranges the thin sheets to cover her legs, wincing at the motion. “So this is Kate,” she says as a tiny smile perks up on her lips. “THE Kate. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I try to smile. “When did he tell you about me?”

  “The last time he was here. When was that?” she turns to Micah, who’s standing next to me. “About a month ago?”

  “Yep.”

  Just before our fated date in the Outer Lands that landed Micah in the hospital. Wonder what he would have told her if he’d visited her after I whacked him on the head.

  Micah clears the air with his hand. “Where’s Hunter?”

  Ally shakes her head. “I’m the one who just had a baby and major surgery, and you’re worried about Hunter?”

  I like Micah’s sister more and more with every passing minute.

  “I see sarcasm runs in the family,” I say.

  “Hello? Wasn’t I talking here? Hunter? Where’s the proud poppa?”

  Ally smacks Micah’s arm. “Sure you were talking, but half of what you say isn’t that important, so we try to ignore you as much as possible.” She giggles like a child. “He’ll be back. He went to grab some dinner.”

  Just then, the door opens again. A young man about Micah’s age enters with arms full of grease covered bags. His brown hair is disheveled, and he nearly drops the bags into Micah’s lap as he settles himself into the tiny room. Feeling cramped, I push myself as far into the wall as possible.

  “I had a hankering for burgers.” Ally grins. “The nurse said it was okay for Hunter to bring me some.”

  Hunter rounds the bed and stands next to Ally’s side. His lanky arms reach around her shoulders, and he has to lean over to kiss her cheek. “You eat. I’m going to go get the baby from the nursery.”

  “Wait,” she stops him. “You have to meet Kate first.” She looks at me and does the formal introduction. “Kate, this is my husband, Hunter. Hunter, Kate—Micah’s girlfriend.”

  He looks flustered, but he composes himself enough to extend a long-fingered hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get my son.” He smiles and exits.

  Since Hunter bought enough to feed the entire hospital, we all busy ourselves unwrapping and munching on burgers and fries until Hunter pushes the door open with a wheeled cart. On top is a plastic tub holding a tightly wrapped, screaming baby.

  “Bring him here,” Ally says, wiping her hands on a napkin. But Micah steps in front.

  “No way, I’ve got him.” Without hesitation, he scoops up the little cocoon and cradles him in his arms. In seconds, the little one quiets and settles into a rhythmic breathing. Soon, he’s asleep again.

  “Wow, impressive,” says Hunter. “I haven’t figured out how to do that.”

  Micah smiles at Hunter. “It’s the new father nerves. The little man can sense it. Besides, I’ve worked in the Creation Lab long enough to have handled a few infants.” He moves next to me to ask if I want to hold the child.

  “No, it’s okay. I shouldn’t.”

  “It’s okay, Kate,” Ally says with an encouraging nod of her head. “He won’t break.”

  Glancing back at Micah, I see he’s already holding the child out to me. Denying the baby again would be rude, so I reach out and take the bundle into my arms. It’s surprising how much he looks like the fetuses in batch four back home. A little bigger maybe, but all the features are developed and his tiny movements are the same as the babies still in lab tubes. He smells new and fresh, and his skin is pink and smooth. My finger softly traces his little features. As I do, his face scrunches in response to my touch. When I look up, I see Ally and Hunter smiling at me, but the look on Micah’s face takes me by surprise. He leans into me and kisses my cheek.

  “You’re going to make an amazing mother someday.”

  His words hit my heart like a sharp arrow. I’m already a mother, but no one knows. Suddenly, overwhelming emotions push to the surface. This is what holding my son would be like. I can’t take it any longer, so I sniff the tears away and hand the baby back to his mother. “What’s his name?”

  “Benjamin.”

  For the first time in my life, I wonder what it’s like to have a squirming creature living inside me. I’ll never understand what it’s like to carry a child like that. All my eggs are frozen in storage in some back room of The Institute. That way, the Institute can control who has children. No criminals, no delinquents, no irresponsible people are ever allowed to have kids. And certainly not teenagers. Except I do.

  I look back at Ally’s lightly freckled face and wonder what made her choose to get married and have a baby when she’s barely seventeen.

  Perhaps Micah sees the strange look on my face because he says, “We’d better be getting back before anyone realizes we’ve been gone as long as we have.” He takes my hand in his
. “Ready for the trip home?”

  “What happened to your meeting with the elders?”

  “It got waylaid after I found out about Ally. But don’t worry, I took care of it. Jaxon knows all about it. Told him this morning before he came to get you. He’ll make sure the right people know what’s going on.”

  “So that’s it then? We can leave?” The stress and surprises of this day have taken their toll, and I feel like I could fall asleep in an instant even though I just woke up a few hours ago.

  “Yep.”

  We say our good-byes and Micah kisses the baby once more before we head out the door. When we finally make it back to the truck, I’m exhausted, but there’s still something I have to know. It’s been gnawing at me since I saw the baby. So as we uncover the vehicle, I build my courage.

  “Micah, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “Why was she pregnant? I mean, she must only be seventeen. It’s a little young, don’t you think?”

  Micah grins widely and laughs. “In the Hidden City, in order for the Natural Born to survive, we need to start reproducing early.”

  “So, they implant fertilized embryos while the girls are still teenagers?”

  “No, Kate. Here we do things the old-fashioned way.” His wry smile and twinkling eyes say enough, but the wink he throws at me removes any remaining doubt.

  “You mean, she and Hunter … you know …”

  “Had sex?” he whispers like it’s a huge secret no one should ever find out then breaks into a hearty laugh. “Yeah, he is her husband. And it’s not like the teenagers above ground are abstaining, by any means.”

  “Well, I get that, but they won’t get pregnant by doing it.” Things are so different here.

  “You forget, Kate, we don’t live by your rules. We don’t have to be thirty before we marry, we don’t remove eggs at birth, and we don’t have to apply to The Institute for children. We have our own … the fun way.”

  My face immediately flushes, and I decide to keep any further questions to myself. One can only handle so much embarrassment in a day, and I’ve definitely reached my quota.

  TWENTY NINE

  THE BURNING

  WE ARRIVE BACK HOME late Sunday evening, but when I come into class on Monday, Micah is nowhere to be seen. His normal presence at Professor Limbert’s side for lab days has become commonplace, and I’ve found myself looking forward to the time I’ll get to see him for a few extra moments.

  Now, as my icy fingers fumble with the buttons of my heavy coat, Professor displays a few instructions on the board. There’s only a few of us in class. On lab days, the rest of my classmates meet at different times according to their specialties. Less chaos is good.

  “Please get these notes down quickly. We’re headed straight to the labs, but you’ll need this information first.”

  “Hey, where’s Micah?” Taryn asks while flipping open her compact and typing in the notes, glancing occasionally to the board as she sketches the drawing the professor has placed there.

  I shrug and file my own drawings away into the appropriate folders.

  “Don’t shut down your notes,” Professor Limbert interrupts. “You’ll need them once we get into the lab.” He zips his briefcase slowly while he continues giving instructions.

  I glance at Taryn, who stuffs her compact under one arm and throws her coat over the other. She smirks at me. “We’re observing a chemical disposal today.”

  I whisper back. “Haven’t we already done that? The first one with the embryos was a chemical disposal, right?”

  “Same idea. Older fetus.”

  My stomach turns, and my leg muscles freeze. I hope it’s not my son. Oh, please don’t let it be my son. No, it can’t be. He’s been marked, but they observe any fetuses older than sixteen weeks for a while to make sure their records are correct. So he’s got a little while longer. It’d be a travesty to dispose of a perfectly good fetus.

  “Oh, okay.” I fall into line behind Taryn like this is just another day in the lab, but deep inside myself, I know it’s not. Thankfully, Taryn takes everything in stride. She’s steady, and I find myself following her footsteps and staring at the back of her head to keep myself moving forward.

  “I hope this doesn’t take longer than our normal lab time,” she says. “I have a date with Devin.”

  “Whoa, wait, what?”

  “You’d know this if you were ever away from Micah enough to hang out anymore.” She’s teasing, but I hear the hint of exasperation in her voice, so I make a mental note to give her a call after class to see if she wants to hang at the café.

  “What happened to Cam?”

  “Cam?”

  “Yeah, Saul’s friend? We doubled that night.”

  “Oh, right. That was just a one night fling, Kate. Devin and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks now. We’ve even recorded it in the data system.”

  “Wow, that’s true commitment.”

  “I guess we all have to grow up sometime, right?”

  I’m distracted by our conversation, but entering the lab for what seems like the millionth time this school year affords no surprises. There’s no more nervous anticipation or revelations. We’ve pretty much seen and practiced everything there is to do, but despite its familiarity, nothing can prepare me for what I’m about to see.

  ***

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Today you’re going to observe a chemical disposal, so if you would please gather around and take a seat.” Professor Limbert heads to the far end of the lab, and we all follow like trained dogs. Only this time, we pull chairs around and place our compacts on our laps, all clicking them open at the same time.

  A lab technician—not Micah—rolls a cart with a capsule sitting on top through the far doorway and into the room next to Professor Limbert. He thanks the assistant and pulls the blue paper covering off revealing a container about two feet tall by a foot wide. Inside is a twenty-six week old fetus. A girl. Breathing a sigh of relief it isn’t my son slated for disposal, I click open a file and ready myself for the lecture that will accompany this procedure.

  The baby is squirming, and it’s then that I see her foot. It’s slightly deformed, bent over with a tiny growth that’s not supposed to be there. Probably would end up with a club foot if left to develop.

  But she won’t.

  Other than that, I see no signs of improper development. And when Professor Limbert begins his explanation, my theories are confirmed. It’s the club foot. All other developments and tests have come back normal. Strong and healthy in every other way. He reads off some technical lingo about gender, deformity and the choice to dispose, which apparently is voted on by a committee of scientists at The Institute. There’s no need to operate on a child so young after birth. It’s too much of a risk, so disposal is the only viable option.

  It’s crazy how a group of ten or so people have the fate of the future in their hands.

  The professor, head sunk into the file in his hands, reads the instructions while the lab technician follows them. Apparently, the committee also leaves the dirty work to the technicians.

  How convenient.

  Finally, he looks up, “We stress the use of gloves to prevent contamination though, at this point, it won’t matter to the fetus. However, you can still be contaminated, so please follow protocol.” Limbert’s head dips again, a contrast to the tiny smile on the face of the lab technician as he snaps gloves over his wrists. Like he’s enjoying what he considers a private joke or something. It sickens me, and I find myself turning away for a moment. “So just as with any other lab, wear your gloves.”

  Taryn is leaning forward, engrossed in what’s happening and only relaxes when she sees me looking at her. “You okay,” she asks.

  “Yep,” I say as I turn back. No need to give anyone any indicati
on that my stomach is starting to churn, and I can feel my skin turning green. I don’t know what it is that’s causing this because the process hasn’t started yet. I’ve never gotten sick during a procedure yet, and I don’t plan on starting now. I’m strong enough to endure this even though I have my doubts.

  The professor’s voice breaks my haze. “The first step is measuring the right amount of saline. It will vary depending on the age of the fetus involved, so please refer to your charts whenever you’re assigned to this type of disposal. Once this is done, about half of the amniotic fluid needs to be drained.”

  A young man from class raises his hand. “What about the weight of the fetus? Is that taken into account?”

  “At this age, no. Most fetuses are very similar in length and weight. It’s not enough of a difference to affect the saline measurement.”

  The guy nods and types the fact into his compact.

  Meanwhile, the technician plugs in a hose to the bottom of the capsule and flips a switch. The fluid slowly drains and as it does, the baby tightens itself into a ball and sinks as low as it can into the remaining fluid. A natural response.

  “Then simply replace the fluid with the salt solution.”

  Raising the lid on the top of the capsule, the technician injects a huge amount of saline into the container.

  “This is where I’d like you to begin your observations.”

  Simultaneously, fifteen compacts hum and the constant click of fingers on keyboards is the only sound in the room.

  Before I look at the baby, I watch Professor Limbert. He’s turned his head and is burying himself in the paperwork in front of him, not even watching what’s happening. He’s witnessed countless disposals, so he must be used to it by now. But I wonder if it’s something you can ever quite get used to.

  I turn my attention back to the capsule. The lights are still low for the other fetuses, and it’s a little difficult to see the details, but within minutes, the fetus’s reactions to the chemical become obvious.

  Seeing the child struggle in front of me is too much to bear, so I turn my eyes away. I want to be able to watch, to give this tiny life the respect it deserves. To see what happens to these babies who are deemed unviable. But I can’t.