by Eden Wolfe
"Maybe you can control Geb, but the outer counties?"
"You set these wheels in motion, Maeva."
"You pushed Roman into the incubation program. He tried to tell you it was too soon, but you wouldn't listen. You insisted. And he had no choice but to obey. You didn't give him any other choice."
"And now, fifteen-thousand - "
"Fifteen thousand of your subjects - "
"Your people! Just children!"
" - will suffer because of it."
"Because of you."
"Your dreamed-up army is a generation of deviants."
"And you know Ariane doesn't take well to any kind of deviance."
Shut up. Shut up. Maeva closed her eyes. None of this could have been foreseen.
"You picked the daughter who was ruthless in her execution."
"And now she will execute."
I didn't know, I couldn't have known.
"Such are the decisions you have made in your reign, when you had it."
"Where is Upper Earth? Where is the great war you so eagerly prepared for? The reason for every decision you made? Where are the men, Maeva? Where are the Upper Earth men you so gravely feared? WHERE ARE THEY?"
"Enough!" Maeva threw her body against the wall, anything to shock them into submission. She needed them to stop, stop, stop.
Blood trickled down the side of her face and she felt the wound throbbing on the side of her skull.
Her door opened.
"Madam! Are you alright? There was a horrible noise!"
"Leave!" Maeva shouted.
The woman shrunk back and shut the door.
Maeva felt the droplet of blood rolling down her cheek. The little white hairs being absorbed on its path. It gathered more blood, the wound not yet closing.
She didn't let it close. She held back the cells, prevented the healthy blood from rushing to the place, though her physiology screamed at her to heal.
The sensation was tender, the caress of the blood, her skin reacting with a gentle wave of tingle. Bumps rose over her arms. She lifted one to watch the hair stand on end.
She dropped her arm back to her side and let the cells rush to the spot. They split, healed, closed the gash on her scalp, healed the crack on her skull. Three minutes passed in the state of healing. It had never taken three minutes before.
My time is coming. I am less and less able to direct my own body.
She walked to the mirror and touched her soft cheek. Her sixty-seven years of age were lost in the semi-smooth skin of a forty-year-old.
But it wouldn't last.
I must make Ariane understand the consequences of my decisions so that she will never do the same. The voices are alive in her, they will direct her if she is not able to control them. Aria and the Strangelands one had been stronger. Lucius was right to have designed them as he did, but I couldn't see it then. I didn't let myself see it then. If only it had been Aria as Queen. It all would have been different with Aria.
But I'm crying for a future that cannot be.
The tear's path made a parallel journey alongside the line of blood.
Maeva washed her face and changed her robe.
She breathed into the center of her body and muffled the voices back into their resting place. If she was going to confront Ariane, she needed every resource available to her. Any scent of weakness and Ariane would smell it on her before she walked through the door.
Lucius designed her precisely as I demanded. And now it's me who suffers because of it.
She smoothed her long brown hair with oil.
Rose. If only it had been Rose from the start.
The voices are responsible for Rose's condition; it was they who called me to Rainfields. Them who played the hallucination across my eyes. Them who made me believe I could walk on air without consequence. What if I hadn't jumped? What if her infant body hadn't smashed to pieces in my womb? What if I hadn't been forced to pump her heart back to life as she died in my body?
Oh, how the world would have been different. It would have been as it should have been.
Rose, Queen. I, her Queen Mother.
Rose! My daughter. My beautiful soul. Where have you gone?
The guilt is mine until the day I die for what I've done to her.
She looked deep into her reflection.
I didn't do it just to her.
I did it to the entire world.
Under Rose, the world would have been what it should have been. And it is my fault that it's not.
The weight of it crushed her lungs and her head fell forward. She tried to keep breathing, tried to inhale but it came in coughs as her muscles pulled her into herself, her chest contracted and she was choking on air.
I will drown. I will drown in my own chamber on air poisoned by my guilt. This is my own doing. They will find me and Ariane will blame the virus. And Lower Earth will explode.
No. I cannot allow it to happen.
Her lungs loosened, her shoulders began to lower.
If I die now, I allow it to be.
She lifted her eyes back to the mirror.
I will be the Queen Lower Earth always needed me to be. It's not too late.
A drop of blood crested on her nostril. She dabbed it away. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun and looked herself in the eye.
It was time to see Ariane.
She heard Ariane before she saw her.
She's not alone.
Ariane's voice carried across the fortress to her ears, "When this stage is complete, and only once the information is diffused throughout Lower Earth, only then can we move to the next phase. Talk of the virus must be on everyone's lips."
Maeva pushed the door, which opened with a distinctive creak. Both Irene and Ariane snapped their heads to see her enter.
"I didn't send for you, Mother."
"We need to talk."
"I'm occupied."
"I'll wait."
Ariane's lips tensed, but she looked back to Irene. "Don't forget the Ganese, not that you would, but I want to reinforce that they are as much a part of this as anyone else. Clear?"
"Clear, my Queen."
Watching Irene's deference to Ariane made Maeva's stomach turn. Why didn't Ariane assign a new Commandante instead of stealing Irene as her own? Maeve knew why; Irene's unique status as both warrior princess and loyal to the fortress would not be something Ariane could develop anytime soon. It took years. Maeva knew it, for she'd done it herself when she'd plucked Irene from the village.
Still, to see Irene take the same posture with Ariane as she had once done with Maeva felt like a slap in the face. Of course, Irene had no choice. No choice at all. She would do as told, that had been one of her most redeeming qualities. She had opinions, she had ideas, and some of them were good. But most critically, Irene could make happen what Maeva could not. That wasn't lost on Ariane.
So Irene is to be the mouth of the Queen now, transmitting the news of this false virus to the counties. Perhaps I can convince Irene, perhaps we can combine to convince Ariane -
But Maeva knew it was futile. Even the words in her head fell flat as she thought them. There would be no changing Ariane's mind.
Independent thought. That's what you wanted, and that's what you got in this Queen Daughter.
Ariane sighed and walked to the window.
"Leave us, Irene. We can deal with business later. I sense that my mother wishes to speak with me alone."
Irene looked to Maeva who gave a quick fake smile. Irene walked out, closing the creaking door behind her.
"Well?"
Maeva had to come right to it. Ariane wouldn't allow for small talk; if Maeva tried, that would ruin any chance she had of getting her to listen.
"A virus is a dangerous proposition."
"I agree."
"It will spark thoughts of the Mist."
"It will."
"It will create terror across the counties."
"I think it might."
"
Why do you take that so lightly? Terror will not serve Lower Earth, and it won't serve you."
"And why not?"
"The people will become unpredictable. We saw it in the second generation, and in the seventh."
"I don't need a history lesson."
"But there are lessons in our history." Maeva's arms reached out in front of her, and she was cautious that the pitch in her voice had become sharper. She lowered her arms slowly and spoke directly, "You see a set of effects from this choice. Certainly, you do or you wouldn't have used the tactic."
"Thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt, Mother."
Maeva ignored her tone. "I offer to you my own experience. I don't know where the idea of a virus came from, but if you are anything like me, and alas, you are much like me whether you want to hear it or not, then your own voices have been murmuring to you that a virus, or rumors of a virus, would serve your ambition."
"Not ambition - "
"Your plans. It would serve your plans. But Ariane," Maeva's brain ran to find the right words, "The voices provide and the voices betray. You'll have many challenges before you in your reign; this is but the first of many. Perhaps the voices guide you well. This time. But perhaps they don't. Let me help you. I have made so many mistakes and I did what I did so that your reign would be free. Let me help you hear the voices and put them in context."
"You did what you did so my reign would be free?"
"Yes," Maeva whispered, ghosts of daughters flooding her memory. Blood and panic, running, disappearing daughters into the distance. Daughters lost to time.
Ariane walked slowly toward Maeva. "I have a generation of children who must be executed, because of decisions you made. This is my freedom? This is the reign you wished for me?"
Maeva blinked. "That not what I meant, I meant - "
"I know what you meant. But I'll remind you that it wasn't your hands on Aria's throat. You didn't look into your own eyes and watch yourself die in your own hands. I felt her die, my lungs burned as I cut off her air. My heart shriveled as hers stopped. This is my freedom? You've made many mistakes, Mother. You are right. But I am the one who has had to pay the price for it."
The voices in Maeva's gut rolled over each other; Maeva gasped as they hissed up to her ears.
Ariane walked close to Maeva, standing beside her. She laid her hand on Maeva's stomach. "You hear them now, don't you?"
Maeva could only nod. Ariane had never touched her like this, the warmth of the hand on her stomach radiated upwards and the voices quieted at the shock.
"You suffer from them, Mother." Ariane stepped to face Maeva, "I do, too."
Ariane's face changed. The edges softened. Her lips parted and Maeva saw the child of twenty years earlier before her. The child she'd watched grow in the incubator. The Queen child who had been her last hope at the time.
At the time. She was so smart from her first moments. So cunning. She'd seemed so perfect.
The Queen before her still had that child inside. Maeva had to be her mother.
"I never wanted you to suffer as I did. I'd hoped you'd escaped them."
Ariane took Maeva's hand and placed it on her own stomach.
"They are with me, right there, every moment of every day." Ariane closed her eyes. "It's torture."
Maeva placed her hand behind Ariane's head, caressing the thick brown hair that fell in long waves. "My child. If I could take it away, I would take it all. I would silence them for you if I could."
"Mother." Ariane opened her eyes. "We must go. Together. We must go to Rainfields and face them. Together we will overcome them. Then I can finally reign with the freedom you wish for me. Together we are stronger than them. Will you come? Will you come with me?"
Maeva felt the shock of panic throughout her body. She didn't know if she could withstand Rainfields in her condition. She was weakened. But Ariane's eyes implored. Eyes like her own. Eyes that were her own. And there was only one answer.
"Yes."
They left when darkness fell. They ran as only they could run. They had never traveled together before. The countryside passed in blurs. Maeva glanced at Ariane beside her, but her face was unreadable. Focused.
She knows this will be challenging. She knows there will be some consequence for our joint arrival at Rainfields. But maybe she's right. Maybe together we can rewrite our code. If we stand up to it as one - me supporting her, she supporting me. It's a possibility I'd never considered.
They passed the first night in a makeshift den just beyond the boundaries of West Gana. She watched Ariane resting, her eyes open to the skies. She willed herself to stay awake, to watch her child in a way she'd never seen her before. Ariane's eyes were wide with wonder up at the stars. Maeva wanted to ask what she was thinking about, but she feared she would break the trance and the tenuous connection between them. So tried to keep her eyes open, but physiology overtook her. Her eyelids batted shut under the gentle night breeze.
By the time they reached Rainfields, the sun was just disappearing off the horizon. The sound of the wind through the channels of rock sung in low tones. It used to frighten Maeva, but having Ariane with her, she heard a different song. A sad song, but not a threatening one. It sang of all those who had found themselves on the rock's surface, so many souls lost, lost in so many ways.
The settlers who first arrived here after the Final War were the embodiment of grief. Rainfields sang their trauma, but it was only the beginning of their hardships. If only they had known… it was only the beginning.
They arrived near the site of the original incubation program and Maeva felt a shiver. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but the air grew colder against her skin and her body trembled.
"What is it, Mother?" It was a curious question, without emotion.
"This place, right here. It's my birthing place."
"I saw that in the records."
She's been in my records. Only I have those records. I didn't give them to her, did I? I gave her some, I couldn't have been so careless as to give her those - could I?
Unease grew in Maeva's stomach, but she couldn't trust the feeling. "Why did you bring me here?"
"It seemed the right place to confront these old Queens of ours."
"Yes," Maeva looked around, "You might be right."
She could still see the place as if everything was still there. All the equipment, the laboratories, the rows upon rows of incubators designed to pull the heat from the lava stone in the height of summer. The retractable awnings. The women in their lab coats. Cold white and stiffened cotton was her only comfort. She had vague recollections of her first days and the way the cotton scratched against her cheek. The coats had never been designed for nurturing.
The glass boxes that haunted her still. The memory alone was vivid enough to choke her. Born in a box, with so little touch, surrounded by thousands of others, drowning in the sound of their cries, dying as each one died, feeling their cells shrivel, their hearts slow to a stop. The staff preferred to snap necks. Easier to clean.
A thousand possible queens across a sea of glass encasements. Glass wombs that became glass coffins. From the time she could walk, it had been made clear to Maeva: there would only be one queen.
It had to be her.
When there were only four infants who remained, Maeva had made the decision. Nighttime rounds by the carers were few and far between. They were left unchecked. She'd waddled to each of her sister selves and did what none of them could have done. She was made of something different. She would be Queen.
And she was.
"So much death," she whispered at the empty expanse.
"You fought for your position."
"I didn't have to fight," Maeva turned to Ariane, "I just had to be willing to do what no one else would."
Ariane looked deeply into Maeva's eyes. "This I understand."
Maeva looked out again at the place. She couldn't see where the lava plateau ended and the cliffs began, but it wasn'
t far. Ariane moved to leave, but Maeva couldn't. Not yet. She needed to get through to Ariane about incubation, and this was the moment.
Perhaps she feels the same chilling in her bones as I do, being in this place. She must understand that I was wrong. Let her hear my words, don't let them fall on deaf ears.
"Ariane - " she reached out her hand, not knowing if Ariane would take it.
Ariane walked back to the place where Maeva stood. And took her hand.
"You will lead as you will lead. I do not intend to influence you. But I would be doing you a great disservice if I did not impress upon you the gravity of my choices. Incubation. It was a mistake. Perhaps it's worth investigating the possibilities in small groups, but not at the scales we have implemented in our lifetime. I knew it. I regretted my own birth, and still, I fell into the trap. I can't tell you why. In my memory, I was motivated by real dangers, visceral and actual risks. But now - " She looked past Ariane, "Now it all seems to have turned to smoke. Enemies that were built of smoke."
Maeva lowered her head to her chest, the song through the rock channels singing louder with the growing wind.
"Come, Mother. Let's leave this place. Leave those memories behind. Bury the pain in the sea." Ariane walked away.
Did she hear me? Did my message land? I cannot ask. I don't want to hear her answer. Maybe it will become clear as we move ahead. Maybe with the last phases of incubates safely transferred into confinement, we can truly retire the incubation program. Forever.
Maeva stepped forward, now several paces behind Ariane, but Ariane moved slow, not rushing to the cliff edge. The voices pulled at Maeva's gut. They alone were the reason for Rose’s condition. Maeva had faltered all those years ago, and Rose had paid the price.
Rose has suffered so greatly. Rose… and my heart. I will never heal.
The sight of Rose’s broken unborn body still haunted her, for though Rose had still been in the womb, Maeva could see the death that had washed over her infant child.
So the voices came at her again now, with words that were lost in the crashing waves against the cliff. Still, they were present. Like dull knife blades, they scraped away at her, desperate for her to give them space to scream, power to control.
