The Breeding Tree

by J. Andersen

  “Adoption?”

  “When a couple takes a child that’s not their own to raise as their own.”

  I’m shaking my head, eyes wide in disbelief. They have this plan all figured out. I just wonder who they are. In my time with Micah, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of Natural Born hidden in my own community. Still, he won’t say who he knows. It’s a safety issue, he says. But if they are able to hide among our people, unnoticed, then The Institute also has to have spies undercover, too.

  The thought makes me shudder.

  “So what happens next?” I ask.

  “If you’re up for it, you help me.”

  “Me?” I shake my head. “Why?”

  “You may not realize it yet, Kate, but you have the makings of a true rebel. Just think. Instead of destroying life through the disposal techniques, you could be saving them, giving them a chance to survive. I’ve already discussed it with my superiors. They think someone officially from the other side, another person like your great grandmother, is a fantastic idea. We have sympathizers who help on occasion, but someone of your knowledge and placement would be perfect.”

  My head is swirling. Saving lives at the risk of my own. I know this is the case because if any of us were ever caught, we’d disappear from society, never to be heard from again. The Institute would never allow such treason to go unpunished. Suddenly, my mind wanders back to a conversation I had with the soldier I dated once. Saul. The way he described being the one to invent the idea to strip the rebel of his own skin was disturbing enough as it was, but thinking that sympathizer might be me sends the bile at the back of my throat into my mouth. I swallow to keep it down. To the citizens, the person just drops off the face of the earth, but I suspect what really happens. Torture. Long, painful, unimaginable torture.

  “So, what do you think?” Micah asks.

  A fluttering in me soars. “Count me in.”

  Without hesitation, I am in his arms, his lips crushing against mine. When he pulls away, he says, “I knew you’d do it.”

  THIRTY ONE

  INTRODUCTIONS

  EACH NIGHT I SPEND in the lab, I find a reason to stay a few minutes longer. Once everyone else leaves, I head to the back storage room where the unviable are kept until their scheduled disposals. It’s here that I spend time with my son.

  I know I shouldn’t allow myself to get attached, but I can’t help it. It’s different knowing which child is yours, even if you didn’t authorize it. Watching him grow and change little by little. Placing my hands on the pod in which he’s growing to feel his tiny movements. He’s real. Alive.

  So, any time Professor Limbert or any of the other professors need paperwork filed, I volunteer. Any excuse that can get me into this room is okay with me. If I don’t have an excuse like filing for my teachers, I still come, pretending to file papers or take notes on a few fetuses to get even a single glimpse of my baby. Most times, I can only spare a few minutes before one of the scientists or professors comes in to do work, but other times I lose track of time, and when I finally leave, I find I’ve been there for an hour or more. I don’t even have to be standing next to him; just being in the same room is good enough. Besides, with the cameras planted everywhere, I have to look like I’m here on official business for the professors.

  I’ve named him. My son. Seems to me that he needed more than a number. Brody. Maybe I’ll change it later, but that’s what I call him when I talk to him. Tonight, I tell him what happened with Micah. What he showed me. The words I say don’t matter, it’s the mere sound of my voice that Brody responds to. His eyes open in the purple light, and I wonder if he can see me. If somehow, on a deep level, he knows I’m his mother. When I smile, he stares. And when I tell him about Micah, his arms and legs move frantically like he’s excited. Maybe I’m just imagining things.

  Since the day I discovered him, I’ve been gathering information. Papers. Conversations spoken in whispers. Brody is marked for a lack of lung development. They’ll do more tests to determine whether he’ll survive. Tests I haven’t learned about yet. But if he’s marked now, the chances of him being unmarked are slim to none. There’s some sort of marker in his blood, too, but from what I can understand of the reports from the database, it isn’t anything life threatening. Just not what they want. Not perfect. But that doesn’t matter to me. He may be unviable according to scientific standards, but to me, he’s just how he should be. Now I understand what Micah was talking about.

  “I have an idea, Brody,” I whisper. “I can’t tell you about it yet because I don’t have it all planned, but I have an idea that might save you. I’m going to promise you something.” I place my hand against the flexible capsule where his hand rests. “I’m not going to let them get rid of you. I’ll find a way, somehow, to get you out of here. And no matter what, you’ll someday know that you were wanted.”

  Like he hears me, his legs kick out in response.

  Tonight it’s only been a few minutes before I hear the inevitable creak of the door telling me I need to pack up or look like I’m filing something in order to seem like I belong here. I grab the spare stack of folders I keep in my pack for moments when someone enters. It buys me a few extra seconds without suspicion. Opening my compact helps, too. That way I can look like I’m entering information into the system.

  My compact is open, and I yank a seat over to the counter next to Brody. His presence, even encapsulated, brings me comfort. I tilt my head in close to the screen. Usually, this stance tells intruders that I’m involved in my work. But tonight it doesn’t work.

  “Come here often?” His voice pulls me into an upright position, and even in the darkness, I can see his brilliant, imperfect smile.

  “Micah. I didn’t expect to see you.”

  He places his own compact on the table beside mine and pulls out a stack of files. “What are you doing here?”

  “Filing?” I fake a smile. I could tell him the truth, but I’d hate for him to get in trouble for something I did. Sometimes the less a person knows, the better, and Micah and I already know too much about what really goes on around here.

  Laughing, he shakes his head. “Since I’m here filing for Professor Limbert, I kind of doubt that’s the case with you. Wanna try again?”

  “Okay,” I say. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  I see a tiny eye roll before he answers. “Now don’t you think that’s kind of a silly thing to ask at this point in our relationship? I mean, you know every deep dark secret about me and more.”

  He’s right. I know enough about him to destroy his life if I so choose—not that I would. He trusts me with that information, so there’s no reason I can’t do the same. I lower my voice to barely a whisper, so there’s no way the recording devices can record what I say. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.” My hand falls on Brody’s back and the touch makes him squirm. “This is Brody.” I stare at the tiny creature in the capsule in front of me before gathering enough courage to look Micah in the eyes again. “My son.”

  A nervous smile appears on his face, and his head cocks in bewilderment. “Your son?”

  “Okay,” I sigh, “I’ll give you the shortened version.” I don’t even look at Micah. Brody has my full attention. It’s the first time I’ve told him the story of how I discovered him, and immediately, he seems engrossed. As engrossed as any preborn could possibly be. His eyes even seem to meet mine as I talk. “Professor Limbert sent me in here a few weeks ago to file paperwork on the upcoming Unviables. When I was recording the DNA numbers, I noticed something strange.” I glance at Micah for a brief second. “My number. I looked it up again just to be sure. That’s when I discovered that this is my son. At first I was angry and confused. There’s no way I would have approved such a thing, even if it were in accordance with Institute policy. I didn’t look for him and tried to avoid this room, but after a while, I had to see him for myself. The first time I looked at him it was like I knew
he was mine. After that, I couldn’t stay away. I’ve been sneaking in here to spend time with him as much as I can. He’s mine, Micah. My own flesh and blood.” The smile I give Brody holds as I look at Micah, but when I see his face, it disappears.

  “Kate, don’t you realize what this means?”

  “That I have a son marked as Unviable.”

  “Besides that?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “What’s the only reason The Institute could possibly have for creating more humans?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. Limited population has always been a key to the success of our society. Why would they want to create more?”

  “There’s only one reason I can think of.” Micah reaches his hand out in an attempt to touch Brody through the capsule. “They’re using them for medical experimentation.”

  The thought makes my stomach sick. Clenching my eyes doesn’t do anything to rid the pictures of experimental operations from my head. I lower my voice so the cameras can’t pick up what I’m saying. “This is why I need to discuss my plan with you.”

  “Plan?”

  “I’m going to steal my son before they dispose of him.”

  THIRTY TWO

  THE END OF A LEGEND

  A FLASH OF HORROR crosses Micah’s face before it’s replaced with a sexy grin. Without having to explain, I can see the wheels turning in his head. “My lab.”

  I nod. “Might not even need it. He’s only got nine weeks left in gestation. Depending on the timing, we may be able to birth him here.”

  “Birthing him is one thing, Kate. Getting him out of here unnoticed is quite another. It’s why I’ve only been taking the embryos. I can hide them easily, and they don’t make any noise.”

  Right. A baby. Crying, hungry, naked. I hadn’t thought of that. And transferring Brody to Micah’s lab any time from now until his birth is sure to be noticed by someone. The look on Micah’s face says he’s thinking the same thing.

  “And reproducing his amniotic fluid at this point in his development will be a challenge. I can recreate the fluid, but it’s better if he’s not transferred from one capsule to the next. He’s already adjusted to the chemical balance in his own capsule. It would be difficult to duplicate without complications. We could steal the whole pod, but a missing pod would definitely be noticed by the other technicians. Kate, I don’t know how this could possibly work. It’s why I take the ones early before they’ve developed.”

  Of course, it’s not going to be easy. Just getting him out of here unnoticed will be a miracle. And if someone does notice, then it’ll be even worse.

  “So you’re not going to help me?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just said it’d be difficult. You know I’ll help,” he says as he leans over to kiss me. “I have to say, you coming up with this idea is brilliant.” His thumbs hook into my belt loops and pull my hips into his. “You’re such a rebel.”

  “Apparently, it runs in the family.” That gives me an idea. It’s a crazy long shot, but it just might work. “My dad.”

  “What about him?”

  “He works at the data collections agency. He has access to all sorts of classified stuff. Maybe he’ll help me hide Brody from the people in charge. At least any record of him. That way, when we get him out of here, there’ll be no record that he ever existed.”

  Micah doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he leans in close to Brody, his nose almost touching the capsule. “You’ve got an incredible mother, little man. I hope someday you’ll realize just how special.”

  ***

  We’re getting ready to leave the lab when I check my phone. Six messages, all from my mother. As soon as I turn my ringer back on, it rings. “Mom, what do you want?”

  “Where the heck have you been, Katherine? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

  “Sorry.” I glance at Micah, who’s zipping up his bag. I mouth silently that it’s my mother as I point to the phone against my ear. “I had to file some paperwork for the professors.”

  “Well, turn on your phone then.” I glance at Micah and roll my eyes.

  “It was on, Mom, but I can’t bring it into the lab. Interference and all that.” Mom’s obviously upset, but yelling at me and my lack of phone service isn’t going to help. “What do you need?”

  “It’s not me. It’s your father. Actually, it’s about your great gran.”

  By this time, Micah’s at my side, and we’re hustling down the hallway hand-in-hand. But when I hear Gran’s name, I stiffen and drop his grasp. His face is immediately fraught with concern. We keep walking, but I can see his head turn to gauge my reactions to what my mother is saying.

  “What’s wrong with Gran?”

  Micah knew Gran before I knew him, so his quick intake of breath is of no surprise to me. The sound makes me look at him. He’s shaking his head, and the crease in between his eyes has deepened into a dark chasm. It’s like he knows something I don’t.

  We’re outside, having walked through the swirling snow, and I’m reaching for the door handle of his truck. He’s stark still, standing beside me, awaiting whatever news my mother is about to tell me.

  “She’s dead.”

  I’ve been hit by a wrecking ball, I’m sure of it. I can’t move; my vision blurs, painting swirls in front of my eyes, and every bone in my body is ready to collapse. Luckily, the wall behind me steadies me when I lean out my hand for support.

  “Why? How?” Should I be surprised? She was old for Natural Born standards, but she was so healthy. And her discharge wasn’t scheduled for another two months.

  “When The Institute informed your dad, they said she’d taken a turn for the worse, and her discharge had to be moved up.”

  Gran knew something. She discovered something valuable, I’m sure of it. But now, no one will ever know. I’m shaking all over and can’t keep my grip on the phone. It slips out of my hands and lands with a crash on the icy pavement.

  It’s a good thing the door handle is so close to my hands because, at this moment, it’s the only thing holding me up, at least until Micah’s arm wraps around my waist. He opens the door with his other hand and helps me into the truck, shutting it behind me.

  It’s so cold in the cab, I can see my breath. I can’t think. I’m staring out the frosty windshield, and suddenly it seems like I’m looking at my entire life through ice covered glass. Nothing is clear.

  There’s movement outside, but I don’t realize what it is until Micah is sitting in the driver’s seat next to me. He rubs his hands together, blows on them before inserting the keys into the ignition. Then he starts the truck and cranks the heater before addressing me.

  “They discharged her, didn’t they?”

  I can’t answer. I’m silent even though on the inside I’m screaming obscenities at The Institute.

  “Drive,” I command.

  “Where to?”

  “The Home. I’ve got to see for myself.”

  Since The Institute is a village of its own, we don’t have far to go before the truck whips into a parking spot in front of the section where Gran lives. Lived.

  The bastards.

  The walk to the reception counter takes years, and once I’m there, I’m terse with the receptionist. “I want to see my gran’s body.”

  “I’m sorry,” she replies, tapping a stack of papers to straighten them. “Who would you be speaking of?”

  “My gran! Emma Dennard. If you paid attention to your visitors, you might know this by now. How many times have I been in here visiting with her? How many hours have I spent in her room by her side or pacing these halls? Do you pay attention to anything around here?”

  The woman looks shocked, and Micah’s cool hand rests on my arm, pulling me back from the reception desk. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “We just received news that Ms. Dennard was dis
charged. We’d like to know if we can speak to someone in charge or at least pay our respects.”

  “And you are?”

  “Micah Pennington.” He flashes his lab badge, which gives him clearance in most parts of The Institute that aren’t highly restricted. “I’m a friend of the family.” The smile he flashes the brunette behind the counter makes me cringe, especially when she blushes in return.

  “Of course, Mr. Pennington. Just let me look it up for you.” She smiles back, and I swear she starts batting her eyelashes at him. To me, on the other hand, she gives an icy glare before switching back to her peachy-sweet smile for Micah.

  I’m about ready to wipe the stupid grin off her face with my boot heel when Micah slips the clearance notice into his back pocket, thanks her, and takes my hand gently in his. “Let’s go,” he says as he leads me down the hallway to the morgue. “They haven’t completed the procedure yet.” Thank goodness.

  ***

  The pungent smell accosts me long before I reach the door. Putting one foot in front of the other suddenly becomes a challenge. Like I have cement feet. But trudging through the muck of dread and anger is nothing. I’m determined to see Gran one last time before they destroy her body.

  The metal door is cold against my palms as I push into the room. A row of silver cabinets lines one wall, and I wonder which one holds Gran’s body. I shudder at the thought of her being locked inside. Metal slabs on wheels are strewn around and covered with that disgusting blue paper gauze used in anything medical. An urge to crumple every piece of it I can get my hands on and to send the scalpels and other instruments flying across the room with the sweep of one hand nearly overwhelms me, but that’s not what I’m here for. Perhaps another time.