My wrists and ankles burn from the restraints, but the pain is nothing compared to my fear. The Protector stares directly into my eyes. My real eyes. She inhales and mutters something under her breath. Then she strides to the far wall and drags a chair directly in front of me, scraping its metal legs across the linoleum. Sitting stiff and straight, she adjusts her jacket. Even seated, she’s so tall I have to crane my neck to face her. The woman doesn’t speak, just stares and stares. I wish I could melt into the floor. I turn my face down to avoid her gaze, but she grabs my chin hard between her thumb and forefinger and jerks, clutching me like a vice, forcing me to look at her.
“Don’t be so coy, Daughter Wye.” She releases her grip and I recoil, slamming my back against the struts of the wheelchair. I don’t know what I expect her to do next, but it isn’t what she actually does. Slowly, as if in a trance, she lifts her fingertips to my cheek. “Remarkable,” she whispers, swallowing hard before she blinks and pushes to her feet, shoving her chair so hard it clangs to the floor. “Man-lovers, both of you. No better than demen yourselves.”
This woman is dangerous and clearly unhinged. She could kill me and no one would ever know. By the time my mother resurfaces, I could already be dead. Or worse. The Protector is hovering over me, glowering. Her fingers tighten around the arms of the wheelchair. Then, quietly, deliberately, she straightens up and removes something from her jacket pocket. It’s a wadded bundle of dark cloth. She snaps her wrist and the bundle unfurls. It’s a thin strip of dark crimson fabric shot through with fine gold thread. “Recognize this?”
My expression must give me away.
“Yes, I thought so.” Moving in closer, she lifts the bandage in front of me and leans over my shoulder, tying it into a makeshift blindfold. The scent of bitter lemon wafts over me. She’s wearing some kind of citrus fragrance. “I don’t need to look into your sad little monster’s eyes for this.” Her hot breath puffs against my cheek as she fastens the knot behind my head. She moves away and I hear her chair scrape against the floor as she retrieves it. When she speaks again, her voice is very close. Directly in front of me. “So, Daughter Wye, what shall we talk about?”
It’s not only my eyes. She knows about the deman too. That Med-Tech, Rho Zee, must have reported me. The whole scene with Ace was a set-up to get me talking. Do they think I’m mixed up with Delta, and that monster outside? The commander remains silent, the air thick with menace. I have to say something.
“What do you want to know?” I’m surprised at how steady I manage to sound.
“What do you think?”
“Demen?”
“I knew you weren’t as stupid as you look. Why don’t we have a nice little chat about your boyfriend?”
“My what?”
“Your little friend, the one hiding around the Clinic.”
“He’s not my friend. I just ran into him.”
“Really? Why do I have trouble believing that?”
“It’s the truth.” I flex my fingers and the plastic ties bite into my skin. Sucking my lower lip between my teeth, I stifle a cry.
“The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? Tell me where he is.” Her voice is closer, louder. I cower but don’t have much room for movement.
“I don’t know. He was outside the Clinic, but he left.”
Without any warning her hand is around my throat. She’s not gripping hard enough to cut off my air, but the threat is clearly there. The lemon scent strengthens as I wrap my fingers around the arms of the chair, ignoring the sting of the plastic ties.
“We know you’re working with him,” the commander says. “He’s not in Delta’s quarters. Where is he?” Her grip relaxes as if to coax me to answer.
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” I repeat it like a mantra, hoping it will satisfy her.
“Sounds like you don’t know much. Perhaps this interview is over?” The threat in her voice is unmistakable. Her chair slides away and I exhale in relief until a blade presses against my throat and the Protector’s hot breath assaults my skin. I try not to move, not even to swallow. Then I hear the door slide open.
“Commander Theta?” It’s a stranger’s voice, low and authoritative, coming from the hallway. Then complete silence. The blade disappears from my neck.
“Yes, ma’am?” The commander’s voice is calmer now, official.
“What are you doing?” the stranger continues.
“Interrogating this criminal.”
“Criminal?”
“She’s been consorting with a deman. She admits it herself.”
“So I’ve heard.” The woman sounds old. Her voice cracks when she speaks.
“There could be more of them. She could be carrying his child!” The commander sounds like she’s losing control again.
“Unlikely, Commander.”
“But, Ma’am—”
“Her test was negative, Theta.” The stranger’s voice has softened, taking on a motherly cadence, as if berating a child. She reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who.
“That means nothing,” the commander says. “She was with him tonight. A positive result may take weeks.”
“Ma’am, if I may.” A third voice sounds from the hallway. I recognize it as the Med-Tech who pushed the wheelchair earlier and tried to comfort me. “We should keep the girl safe in the Nest. Until we know for sure.”
“Commander.” I discern a hint of warning in the older voice, but the warning comes too late. A powerful blow connects with my stomach, winding me. I gasp for air, tears pouring down my cheeks, as I attempt to untangle the din of voices.
“Remove her,” the older woman says.
Commander Theta hisses into my ear. “It’s for your own good. You’re better off without his baby. Believe me, I know.” A scuffle ensues, and the commander’s voice is defiant now. “Don’t bother. I’m leaving.” As the door closes, she calls out, “Don’t let her fool you, ma’am. She’s just like her mother.”
Hurried footsteps approach and I feel a pair of gentle arms wrap around my shoulders. A hand rubs my back. The Med-Tech? I hiccup back tears of relief as she mutters soothing words.
“Why does the commander think I’m an Expectant?” My question comes out as a sob.
“It’s very unlikely you are an Expectant, and even more unlikely she could hurt the child that way if you were. But she will be counseled with respect to her actions here today.” The older voice is closer now too.
The Med-Tech is working on my blindfold. It’s soaked through with my tears. When she removes it, an old woman is peering at me from a few paces away. She has leathery olive skin and deep green eyes, pale with age. Her hair is thick and gray. It cascades over her shoulders in wiry strands. She’s wearing long dark robes, belted loose at her waist with a crimson tie, and she’s hunched over a gnarled wooden cane.
It can’t be.
“Are you…?” I’m unable to complete the sentence.
“Yes, child. I am an Elder.” She notices the bindings on my wrists. Despite her stooped posture, she takes a few steps forward with the assistance of her cane. Then she leans down to place a wrinkled hand on one of mine before addressing the Med-Tech. “Healer, can you do something about these?”
Without a word, the Med-Tech races to the counter and jerks open random drawers and cabinets until she finds an emergency kit. Prying it open, she extracts a pair of scissors and crouches in front of me to attack the bindings. I fix my attention on the Elder.
“Remarkable.” She echoes the commander’s earlier words when she looks into my eyes.
“My mother says it’s a genetic anomaly,” I say. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” she says.
Taking a slow and painful-looking step back, she leans heavily on her cane. Although her words are formal, the hint of a smile plays over her features. “Omega Wye, daughter of Sigma.” Her voice cracks on my mother’s name. “You may call me Omicron.”
If the Elders are involved, this is serious. Of course it’s serious. A deman is inside the palisade. The Elders have to be here. They don’t involve themselves in our day-to-day governance. They simply watch and advise. But they do become active if something serious happens, like that flood at the factory or the fire in the south fields last harvest season. They help coordinate the planning and relief efforts and provide support and counsel where they can.
“I understand you have encountered a man, within our walls,” she says.
Finally free of my bonds, I slump forward, almost toppling from the chair. The Med-Tech steadies me, looking to the Elder for guidance. Omicron indicates the birthing bed with the tip of her cane. The Med-Tech loops my arm over her shoulder and hoists me across the room, depositing me on its padded surface. The pain from the commander’s blow is subsiding, but I feel weak and tired, and very confused. Now that my wrists and ankles are free, the throbbing from my other injuries seems to have lessened. Maybe I’m going into shock.
The Med-Tech adjusts the back support, enabling me to recline into a more comfortable position. As she did earlier, she places her hand on my shoulder. It’s so reassuring that I want to forget about everything and melt into her. Wrestling with her cane, Omicron drags the metal chair to the side of the bed. The Med-Tech leaps up to assist her, but the older woman waves her away. As she deposits herself awkwardly beside me, I smell fresh gardenias.
“You never encountered any men before today?” she asks.
“No.” My voice is steadier now.
“What did he want?”
“He asked me to give a message to—”
“Delta?”
I’m suddenly suspicious. Is this another trap?
As if reading my thoughts, the Elder says, “This must be very confusing for you. You probably have some questions for me.” The corners of her mouth droop and I notice the wrinkles etched around them. “Please. Ask me anything. It is important that we trust each other.”
I hesitate, then realizing I have nothing to lose, I say, “So demen aren’t extinct?”
“It would appear not.”
“The one I met, he didn’t actually hurt me.”
The Elder follows my gaze toward the bandage on the counter, the one the deman made for me. She props her cane against her knees. “He may not be dangerous.”
I run my fingers down my flat belly, thinking about when I was in the Nest. “I had an Expectancy test?”
“While you were asleep.” The Med-Tech rests her palm on the back of the birthing bed.
“Commander Theta didn’t believe this man would have let you alone without, well, I’m sure you can guess what she feared,” Omicron says.
“She told me. She thought I was with him. Why would she think that?” The deman’s face flashes through my mind, dirty and hairy, one lip imperfectly curving higher than the other.
“The commander has her reasons,” Omicron says. Her forehead creases more deeply.
I prop myself higher and notice a silent communication pass between Omicron and the Med-Tech. “You say you were not intimate with this boy?” the Elder asks, raising a silvered brow.
“Intimate? No, of course not.” I try to maneuver my legs over the edge of the bed, but she’s in my way. “And you said the test was negative.”
“It’s not us, child.” The Med-Tech’s voice is low against my ear. “It’s Commander Theta. She’ll insist there’s a risk of Expectancy because she knows you had contact with him. The tests are not one hundred percent accurate, particularly if your contact with this man was very recent. Technically, she can insist you remain detained in the Nest until we’re sure.”
Omicron looks me over. “I’m assuming you would rather return to your quarters if you had the choice?” She raises her brow again, a glimmer of a smile passing across her face.
The Med-Tech opens her mouth as if to speak, but the Elder quiets her with a gesture. “Don’t worry, Healer. I will take care of it.” She returns her attention to me and says, “Your mother is away.” It’s not a question.
She knots her fingers under her chin, her cane still resting on her knees. “Omega, I can return you to your quarters.” My shoulders sag with relief. “But you will have to stay there until your mother returns. I will attempt to get word to her.”
She stands with difficulty using her cane for leverage. “I’m afraid we have not seen the end of this matter. There is a man – or at least a boy – inside the walls. Too many people are aware of it, including Commander Theta.”
“Unfortunately,” the Med-Tech mutters under her breath, and the Elder shoots a warning glanceat her.
Omicron pats my good knee. “But the least we can do is get you home, my child. You’ve been through enough. For today.”