The woman backs away. Then she helps me sit up and hands me my clothes. I put them on, still sobbing. "I'm sorry.”
She shakes her head. Then she goes to the door and opens it.
Shale takes one look at me, crying on the table, and rushes in. "Is she hurt?" I hear him asking.
The woman shakes her head. "No abortion. She not want." She doesn’t say this with any judgment in her voice and for that I’m grateful, even in my addled state.
Shale turns to me, his hands hovering so close to my arms he may as well be touching me. But he doesn't; I can feel the heat from his hands, but not the weight. His eyes search my face. "Are you all right?" His voice is soft, deep, comforting.
I close my eyes. Tears, hot and fast, slip down my cheeks. I'm mortified, but strangely removed from the feeling at the same time, thanks to the candy glass. "I-I'm sorry. I just...I couldn't—"
"Shh." His hands alight on my skin, warm and calloused. "You don't have to say anything else."
I can't. His words, so free of judgment, so sure, have me crying even harder. Shale stands with his hands on me, the warmth and weight comforting. I can't even see the woman through my veil of tears.
Finally, when I am somewhat in control, I slide down from the bed and stumble through the door. Shale's arm snakes around my shoulders and he steadies me. We're outside again, the chill breeze welcome after the heat imbuing my face.
We begin our walk back.
"Would you like me to get the truck?" Shale lets his arm drop but keeps it near me, just in case I stumble again. "If you're not up to walking..."
But I shake my head. Walking will give me time to clear my head, and the air is cleansing. "No, thank you." I look up and drink in the starlight. I don't think I will ever get used to being able to see the night sky so clearly. After a while, I hazard a look at Shale. He's lost in his own thoughts, keeping step with me. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I know this puts us in a bind...all of us."
He looks at me, and there's no hint of a lie in his eyes. "Don't be sorry. We'll work something out."
"But the baby...it's going to get bigger. And I'm going to get bigger. It'll be very obvious once the information is leaked. Me, Ceres, you..."
Shale stops and turns toward me. We haven't gotten to the populated area of the compound yet, so all around us is the hushed whisper of the wind along the plains and in the trees that dot them here and there. There is a big river, the Yangtze, not too far from the compound. If I am very quiet, I imagine I can hear it.
Without hesitation this time, Shale puts his hands on my upper arms and squeezes. My blood turns warm at his touch, at the light in his eyes. "I didn't want you to do it either. So don't apologize."
I stare at him, trying to understand what he's saying. He didn't want me to get rid of the pregnancy? "But...why not?"
He bites the inside of his lips as he stares into my eyes, that light in his burning brighter. "Because it's a token, Vika. Of our connection. Of what we almost had once." My breathing slows even as my heart thunders inside my chest. I'm blinking at Shale and then he's letting go of me, and turning away, looking past me. "I know it's ruined now. It's ruined because I left you, no matter what you think. I was gone when you most needed me. You almost died; I don't know what else you must've had to endure. But this baby...this baby was conceived when my world was bleak. It was something I did right. And...perhaps it's stupid, but I don't want to give it up." He glances at me worriedly. "Though it's completely your choice. I really mean that."
"I know," I say, my voice hoarse, barely a whisper. Hope rises inside me, thin as steam. "I—I feel the same way about the baby as you." I walk forward slowly and put a hand on his arm, feel the weight and the muscle of it through his wool jacket. "What happened to you? After the attack on the bus?"
His muscles tense. He keeps his eyes far away, trained on the silvery darkness of the plains. A soft wind ruffles his hair. It's getting longer, I realize. The ends are curling, and I have the strongest desire to touch them. I resist.
"I escaped. I was able to gun down the man near the bus’s door and run into the desert. I looked for you, Vika, I swear I did." He steps closer to me, his eyes glittering. "But I suppose I was losing too much blood. I don't remember anything except flashes after that. Ananke nursing me back to health. A tent in the desert."
I feel a twist of jealousy again, but I ignore it, trying to focus instead on the positive, on the absolute miracle that Shale survived at all. "I'm so glad you got out. I...I thought you were gone forever."
We stare at each other, Shale's head dipped down toward mine. I wonder, for the first time, if our baby will have his eyes. I hope so. Shale's eyes, though they are the same brown color as mine, are the most beautiful I've ever seen. They speak of his valor, of kindness and strength, of an internal moral compass.
Then, abruptly, he steps back. His face is closed off, no longer open and vulnerable as it was just moments ago. "We should head home. I need to go to the depot after and tell them we don't need the truck or they'll wonder what's happened."
My head spins at this sudden change. “Why are you resisting me?” The words slip out without the usual buffer my brain keeps on my mouth, thanks to the candy glass. “Talk with me. We can work this out.”
But he can’t even bring himself to look at me. “I’m sorry. Every time I look at you, I see my own failure. And I think...I think you can do much better. After all this, when you’re truly free, you’ll find someone else.” I start to argue, but his smooth words cut me off. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”
"I'm capable of walking myself," I say, disappointment wrapping its cold fist around my heart. But he walks with me anyway. We are silent the rest of the way back.
◊ ◊ ◊
Two more days pass by in a blink. In New Amana, time appeared to race or crawl, depending on the events in my life. But here it is ephemeral and gauzy no matter what; it slips between my fingers when I'm not looking.
Ceres and I work close together in the floods of the paddy fields, the wind chapping our faces and lips and hands in spite of the protective clothing we wear. With every ounce of weight that the baby gains—and it seems to be gaining by the hour—it feels like my feet take the brunt of it. My heels burn with the effort of standing upright, my back groans and cracks. I am not sure why I feel so much pain; everyone who knows assures me that my pregnancy is not visible.
I keep waiting for the hammer to fall, for them to announce that the fugitive cell they've captured has given away more information about me. I imagine them dragging me off in front of everyone right after the national anthem, my feet scrabbling uselessly on the dirt. But it does not happen. The number of fugitives on the board does not go up.
Still, I am uneasy. The Monitors’ gazes follow me like dark, lingering shadows. As the hours slip by, my apprehension and almost intolerable need to provide a safe shelter for the baby and Ceres grow tenfold.
On the way back to our wopung on the Saturday before we are to meet with Elara, I resolve to tell Shale we have to move forward on our own. Our meeting with her isn't for two more days, but surely someone else should have some information. Maybe we can find something out from Trigger or Ananke. I cannot explain why now, but I feel as though I cannot wait a single second longer—let alone another forty-eight hours—to find out if and when we can move to the other compound.
When Shale knocks on the door to our wopung, I rush to open it. He peeks in at Ceres and smiles. Then, his face serious, he looks back at me. "Do you have a moment to speak?"
"Of course." I step outside into the cold night air and shut the door behind me. "What's happened?"
"I know you've been anxious to find out when we can move." But how does he know? I didn't think my growing desperation was visible to anyone. In spite of myself, I'm pleased at the thought of Shale watching me, of him being in tune with my needs. "We might have a chance tonight. Ananke's invited us to a rooftop get-together at eight."
"What about Ceres?"
"It's up to you if you want to bring her. I thought perhaps she could stay behind. We can return right after the TV programming."
I nod. "All right. I'll meet you at your house later."
◊ ◊ ◊
But Ceres will not hear of staying behind. I suspect she thinks the get-together is an official one, sanctioned by Monitors Wang and Ng of the training sessions. I try to tell her it will be boring and most likely too cold—I don’t want to risk telling her too much—but she won't hear of it. So, at ten till eight, I clutch her hand and we walk to Shale's wopung. The wind rushes at us as we walk, but I barely notice the cold. A frenzy of electric energy dances inside me at the thought of what we might find out tonight.
“Halt!”
I freeze at the command, called out from behind us. Still holding Ceres’s hand, I turn around slowly to find Monitor Ng approaching us, her beautiful eyes narrowed in suspicion. I let go of Ceres’ hand, though I hate to do it. She watches Monitor Ng innocently, not realizing that this get-together is a secret. That we could die if the Monitor before us figures it out. A memory of the woman lying unconscious on the road while Monitor Ng dumped a bucket of water on her flashes through my mind. I hope fervently that Ceres will be quiet and let me do the talking.
Monitor Ng comes to a stop before us. She is a few inches taller than me, and at this distance, I have to tip my head back to look at her. She smiles a little. “Why are you not inside? The Laws will be read in just”—she consults a slim gold wristwatch—“seven minutes.”
Ceres shifts in my peripheral vision, no doubt wondering why Monitor Ng doesn’t know where we’re headed. “We are going to our friend’s wopung. Her son is ill, so she would like us to help. We will watch the Laws there, on her TV set.”
The Monitor stares into my eyes a long moment, as if attempting to divine if I am telling the truth. Then she looks at Ceres and smiles wider. “I see. Is this true?”
“Y-yes,” Ceres replies. She gazes steadily into Monitor Ng’s eyes. Her answer is simple and forthright. I marvel at her ability to lie so well, so effortlessly. I had no idea she had it in her. Unsettling as it is, her untruth works in our favor.
Monitor Ng takes a small step back. “Hurry. You don’t want to miss any of it.”
I dip my head in deference, and we hasten to Shale’s wopung. I squeeze Ceres’s hand when I am sure the Monitor can’t hear us. “Thank you. I know that must’ve been hard, for you to lie that way.”
She gazes at me with utter transparency. “You n-needed me...to.”
I kiss the side of her head, overcome with the unquestioning purity of her love for me.