by Eden Wolfe
How quickly the women were able to pivot into their blood's calling. And I worried that galvanizing them would prove a challenge. I underestimated my people. I must not do that.
Leadon heard footsteps that were out of time with the others. The thousands of women in exercises moved with each other, the rhythm predictable. These steps were running. Leadon turned to see a lookout running in her direction, waving. Leadon walked at a fast pace to meet her.
"Leadon, Chief. It's the Commandante. She's coming."
"Irene is coming? Why?"
"I saw her in the distance. I don't know why."
Of all times, after the betrayal of her own people, after I told her not to come back until I called for her - she has audacity. Unwise, ill-timed, audacity.
"I'll come to the gate. I don't want her to see the women in training, not yet."
"Yes, Chief."
Leadon turned to Priyantha, "Prepare a contingent. Just in case. If we need to make a show to send a message, I want us to be ready to do that."
"Yes, Chief," Priyantha ran back to Anyook as Leadon headed towards the main gate.
Leadon walked towards the entry, the lookout waiting for her. "Close the gate." The lookout did as she was told.
"Should I lock it?"
"That won't be necessary. We will be opening it, but just not right away."
"Yes, Chief."
Leadon waited, the leather of her bodice slapping against her thighs in the wind. Her hair brushed across her face. Leadon suddenly realized that all her senses were heightened. She could hear the steps of the donkey approaching, the women deep in the village training, the trees rustling. She felt the dirt flying into her cheek and her eyes drying in the breeze.
Irene dismounted and walked the animal toward the gate. She didn't say a word. Leadon saw her own face, aged a further thirty-five years, approaching without a sign of the shame it deserved to wear.
A flame lit inside Leadon.
That she dares to walk with her head high - she doesn't even know the offense she's causing simply by her arrival. Be wise in your words, Leadon. She lays her loyalty away from the ancestors and toward Geb now.
Irene came to the gate, her face inches away from Leadon, but still, she didn't speak. Both women waited, neither moving nor speaking. Their eyes remained fixed, their towering height identical.
They spoke at the same time.
"Why would you come?"
"You have to understand what's happening."
"What?"
"You have to understand."
"I understand perfectly well."
"You don't."
"Haven't you read the order, the one your own Guard delivered?"
"Of course I have, but it's what's behind it - "
"The motivation is rather evident, I know the blame that's been cast on the Ganese, and unjustly so."
"That isn't related."
"Do you take me for an idiot?"
"It isn't related, I'm telling you, Leadon. Now open the gate and let's talk."
"The Free Route is closed. I won't accept visitors."
"I'm a Ganese."
"No. You're the Commandante before you are a Ganese. You've made this clear for decades."
Irene didn't respond. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, waiting.
Leadon stepped away from the gate and turned to the lookout. "Let her in." She looked back to Irene, "We will walk by the river, and I will hear you out. You will not interrupt the women as they prepare."
Irene stepped through the gate. "Singing at fires again, are they?"
Leadon didn't answer.
They followed along the border of Gana, a route Leadon had followed near daily before.
Before. That was before everything changed. Evolved. I should consider it evolved, not changed. We are becoming what we ought to be, neither more nor less.
When they were out of earshot of the lookout, Irene spoke, her eyes set straight ahead.
"I have come not as Commandante. I wouldn't dare say as much in front of anyone, but you must know. Things are heating up in the capital. The Queen seeks out her enemies while also making plans to - to cull the population."
Leadon looked at Irene. She was prepared to listen, but she wasn't yet sure whether or not to believe anything Irene would say.
"Cull? What does that mean?"
Irene ignored the question. "You must be careful. This stay-within order is just the beginning. Suffice it to say that when I first saw it, I was incensed, but I was corrected, had to put it into context. You can't see it, but the blood of a traitor is still on my hands, I have just come from the underground cells of the fortress. There is an undercurrent running across Geb, and maybe across Lower Earth."
"I know it. I have seen it."
Irene looked at Leadon, her brow furrowed in question. Leadon weighed her options.
She decided it was time to take a risk. "I've been to see the Sisters."
"You have?"
Leadon nodded.
Irene inhaled deeply. "I suppose that was wise. Especially to do it before the stay-within order came down. Yes, it was wise. I would have done the same."
She seems sincere.
"The Queen sets her eyes across Lower Earth, Leadon. She's looking for anyone who may undo the delicate political balance in place. Like in the Strangelands. The Dark Counties too. And who knows what will happen in Cork Town once the clear-out really begins."
"Clear-out?"
Irene raised her hand, "It's not just Cork Town. Many plans that have been in place for years are crumbling. Ariane will have to take strong measures, great leadership. And someone in it all is going to lose. Don't let it be Gana, Leadon. Don't stick your neck out now. Ride low, wait it out. You have nothing to lose from that approach and everything to gain. Otherwise, you'll put the Ganese in the center of the Queen's target."
"Sit and wait? This is your advice to your fellow warrior priestesses?"
"It's temporary, it's protectionist even. Anything else and you risk attracting the Queen's attention just at the time when she's seeking an enemy."
She doesn't speak as a Ganese now. Now she speaks from the fortress. No Ganese would advise that we 'sit and wait'. This has never been our way.
Leadon looked into Irene's eyes. Her dark eyes implored, her lips terse.
She doesn't want to say the words she's said. Her instinct advises against it. And yet, she has become the Commandante of 'sit and wait'. She must be reminded of the stock from which she comes.
"Follow me," Leadon led her back towards the village, then through it. They strode in silence. They passed the forest, arriving on the exercise field.
"What is this?" Irene whispered.
The women were between sets, the timing was ideal. Leadon led Irene to the head of the field where Priyantha and Anyook were standing. Priyantha had her hands on her hips, watching every move they made towards them. Anyook's arms were crossed. She scanned across the thousands of kneeling warrior priestesses, waiting for the right moment.
Anyook has a strategy. She's waiting for us to arrive at the right angle where Irene will see it all in action.
Leadon smiled to herself. Priyantha glared at Irene, not speaking a word as they arrived at the platform. Leadon stepped up first, Irene followed.
At that moment Anyook let out the assault cry and the thousands sprung to their feet, their bodies twisting into the different forms, kicks, punches, attacks from all angles taken on invisible enemies.
Leadon looked at Irene whose eyes had widened at the sight.
We have surpassed her expectations.
The warrior priestesses cried out with each imaginary hit, the sequence identifiable but adapted by each woman. The cries echoed into the late morning sky until the set had finished and they retook their defensive positions in silence.
Anyook shouted out the rest position and the sea of bodies relaxed.
"You are progressing," Leadon called out to the women. "In this short time,
your discipline is paying off. Dismissed."
The women slowly scattered back to their daily duties in their individual quorums.
Irene's eyes stayed on the field even as the women were abandoning it. "This is a terrible idea, Leadon. Imprudent. Reckless."
"It's not an idea. You saw their state. We advance further every day. We will reach the level of the Guard - "
"You are foolish!" Irene hissed.
Leadon saw Priyantha call the women to her side
"Where is your loyalty, Irene? Is it with your people, or is it with our oppressor?"
"You make distinctions like that and you will invite opposition."
"Which is it, Irene?"
"You know me, Leadon." Irene leaned forward, "I have always had to keep one foot in the fortress while the other was here. That was not a choice I made, it was a command that I was given."
"And now you've been gone long enough to forget that there are ways things are done here which have served our people for thousands of years."
"In thousands of years, we've never faced this before."
"We've faced worse and you know it. We are warriors, we have our history to rely on, and more than that, we have trust within us. Did you see the warrior priestesses? West and East as one, of one mind. And you'll recall that as long as you're here, you obey the Chief and the Chief had told you not to come back until you were invited. You were not invited, Irene, and you come with advice that we never would take. Your counsel is poisoned by the woman you've become. Now you will leave Gana, escorted by these fine warriors, and I will try to swallow the shame I have at wearing your face. You should be proud that you share yours with a Ganese who remains unafraid to be true to her blood. Now leave. And if you come back, be prepared to meet with the consequences."
Leadon kept her eyes set on Irene as the six women behind her stepped forward. Irene raised her hands.
"I'm going. You are foolish, and you are steadfast. I only hope it's not a vow you come to regret." She walked away, the contingent following behind her. Leadon watched until they were out of sight.
Lea turned to Priyantha, whose gaze hadn't moved from Lea's face.
“Her heart is with the Ganese. Only her head is not.”
“I have no choice to but believe you.”
“You always have a choice, but you are right to believe me on this.” Leadon felt the power of Priyantha’s loyalty rolling off her like an ocean wave. “Your faith in me is strong.”
“Because you are worthy of my faith.”
“And yet you are not afraid to voice your concerns.”
“Because you listen to them.”
“Because they are wise.” Leadon paused to take in a long-awaited breath. “And this is why you will be Keeper of the Chief. My Keeper.”
They stood in silence, holding each other’s eyes. Spines pulled tall, the leather of their bodies flapped in the wind. But all Leadon’s could see was Priyantha’s jaw set and her eyes soften before she gave a long, deep bow.
Leadon waited until Priyantha’s gesture was complete before taking her arm and led her back to the hut.
29
Uma
Uma felt like her throat was closing. It had been stuck in that position for days. Ever since Maeva had commanded that Sara be arrested, a boulder had been stuck in the middle of her esophagus and there were moments she felt she couldn't breathe at all. She went through the motions in the morning.
No one expected her to be at the Tower before sunrise, but she had a specific mission now. There were hundreds of pages to pore through, and they weren't in any particular order. Not in any scientific order, that was. Rather they were stacked in the order in which they'd been written. Hundreds of pages of code, gene properties, revision strategies.
From beginning to end of her interrogation.
Sara's last testament.
The acid from her stomach rose, even though she hadn't eaten anything.
When did I last eat? I should eat. I won't be able to think straight if I don't eat.
She grabbed a few things from the kitchen and set out for the Tower just past four in the morning. The Tower came into her sights, the glass walls catching the small rays of reflected light that remained from the full moon. The Tower reached deep into the sky, seemingly standing taller than the clouds, the stars, and whatever was beyond.
Could there be a place beyond where we find ourselves when this life is through? Could the Ganese have it right, that the ancestors are all there, waiting for us, advising us, even living beside us on another plain?
Where is Sara's soul now?
At the thought, Uma felt a breeze stroke her cheek and jumped. She didn't know what she expected to see, but nothing was there. She closed her eyes and inhaled the cold air of early morning before picking up her pace to the Tower.
She entered through the rear service door, knowing the Logistics department would already be in place, but she could avoid them. She didn't want anyone asking questions about why she was unlocking the front door at this hour. The alarm would beep and the residences surrounding the Tower would hear. Normally that wouldn't bother her, but this wasn't normal. She wanted to enter in peace without anyone asking any questions. She wasn't sure how she'd respond to them.
She hesitated in front of the elevator and then opted for the stairs. The exertion would do her good. Clear her mind. The concrete was hard under her feet and the air had a slight dampness to it. She took each stair at a steady pace, steadily moving up. She knew what awaited her there.
The door into the seventeenth floor felt heavier than usual.
She stepped into the carpeted corridor, the weight of her mission settling on her chest. She tried to swallow.
Her key stuck in the lock. She jigged it until it hit the right angle. Her office door creaked as she pushed it open and she suddenly had the sensation that it wasn't her office at all, that she was trespassing into someone else's work, spying, thieving. Stealing into the mind of someone else, ideas that had been torn away in life's last moments.
A wave of shivers went up her spine.
Get ahold of yourself, Uma. The task is clear. Don't muddy it with ethics now.
The desk got bigger in her vision as she stepped closer. Every movement was amplified, her senses turned on.
A pipe was being hammered somewhere in the building.
Who is hammering a pipe at this hour?
A crow called from outside the window.
This isn't their season, how has a lone crow found its way to Geb?
She sat at her desk, her body not recognizing the shape of the chair.
In front of her, the pages stacked high, but in disarray. Some were crumpled, the colors of the paper weren't uniform. It was as though someone had scavenged through the fortress for random sheets, here and there. Two different pens had been used. Some of the pages she'd seen had become wet. Uma didn't ask herself what had moistened them. They'd been in the chambers, after all.
Perhaps it was simply dew off the walls.
She cut off the thought.
Uma closed her eyes and inhaled deeper than she thought her body was capable. She opened them again and continued where she'd left off the previous day.
The first page was soft in her hand, the writing quick but even. She recognized the sequence from the West Fields virus of two years earlier. It had emerged after a mutation of the previous variant. While the pathogenicity had been reduced, the virus had become more resistant to heat. They used to rely on the summer season to kill the virus off, but it had lasted long into autumn.
Uma dug more deeply into the notes scribbled along the side. Remarks on possible proteins that had influenced its evolution as it became a new crop killer, and a few comments Uma couldn't read. She scanned the rest of the page, but it was sparse compared to others. She walked to the table where she had classified the other pages she'd already assessed. There had been another page that outlined West Field viruses from an evolutionary perspective.
&
nbsp; How did she keep such a variety of information in her head, able to recall it on command?
Uma shook her head.
And I'm still in the first fifth of the stack.
She added the page to the previous one, clipping them together. She looked back at her desk and then up at the clock. Five forty-five, activity in the Tower would soon pick up. And she still had days' worth of analysis in a muddled pile on her desk.
There was no time to waste, especially with the incubation program hanging in the balance.
She sat back at her desk and continued.
Tissue strength.
Monitoring data on gene mutations for womb development.
A case study on immunity to influenza.
A small tap came on her door and she saw Roman on the other side.
She lifted her hand. "I'm working on it. There's a lot to get through. It's not classified at all. Not at all, Roman! I have to crosscheck it with the activity logs. It's a manual process."
"Hey, hey, now." Roman entered. "I haven't come to urge you on or to criticize. Quite the opposite. You're making good progress, and faster than I could. You have always been closer to implementation. I wanted to know if you'd eaten anything."
"Eaten?"
"It's two in the afternoon. I know you've been here since before sunrise as I came by then and you had your head deep in it already. You didn’t even see me there, did you?"
"No. I saw nothing."
"I'll have an admin bring you some food."
"Fine, fine." Roman was ruining her concentration; she needed him to go. She'd agree to anything.
"Come up to the nineteenth floor at seven o'clock, latest. Give me a report then. Oral is fine. Don't spend time noting your assessments yet."
"Fine."
Roman nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
She continued. Page after page, some of it looked like nonsense, other pieces were relevant but already well documented in the incubation program. She didn't bother looking at the clock anymore, she went page by page into the evening.
She turned to the next page. Her eyes couldn't register what she saw, but her body did. She felt it coming up from her gut and managed to grab the trashcan in time before the burning vomit came. She didn't even know what she had in her to throw up, the substance thick. Her throat stung. She closed her eyes and willed the nausea to leave, letting the words coalesce in her head.
