When the truck stops, my heart pounds loudly in the resounding silence. My palms begin to sweat. Finally, Trigger opens the doors and we step out into the chilly night air.
"Good luck," Trigger says, putting one hand on my arm. I wonder if Ananke has told him I’m still carrying the baby. "Elara’s solid. She’ll listen to what you have to say.” I nod and try to smile, as if I’m just as sure as he is. “I'll be back soon. Wait at the entrance in one hour, yeah?"
Shale and I head toward the small cement room just outside the yez.
The inside is the same writhing, throbbing mass of masked people as it was the last time we were here, four days ago. The beat echoes inside my skull, the rhythm trance-like. I look around the room, wondering who here is a Rad, who is just a Chinese bureaucrat trying to unwind from the pressure of the job, and who, like me, is here to plead their case, beg themselves a new life.
Shale holds my hand tight so we do not get separated as we head toward the back, to the green velvet curtain and the wooden door. A man—a different one from last time—on the other side escorts us to Elara's door, this time without asking who we are, as if he has been told we are coming.
As we walk, I worry I am not getting enough air. I worry I will faint. I worry Elara will toss me out once I tell her I didn’t get the abortion. And just when I think I cannot worry anymore, there is a strange fluttering in my lower stomach. A strange euphoria goes through me—was that the baby? In spite of where we are and our situation, I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. I glance up at Shale, but his eyes are on Elara’s door.
We are here. Before we go in, I put my hand on my stomach for just a second to send the baby a message: It's okay. I'll take care of this. Don't worry.
Elara sits behind her desk, elegant in a white dress cut just right to accentuate her curves. Her mask and elbow-length gloves match her dress, and there are bits of sparkling gold tinsel in the curtain of black hair that skims the tops of her shoulders. She smiles, her eyes shining as they rake over me, head to toe. "That dress suits you. Please, sit."
We do as she asks. I wish I could hold Shale's hand now, but I know I will look weak if I do. Besides, a partnership between us would just be an added layer of complication in Elara's eyes and I don't want to do anything to put us at a further disadvantage.
"So." Elara folds her gloved hands neatly on her desk. "I assume the pregnancy has been terminated?"
My heart starts to beat harder. "No." I'm surprised by how clear my voice is, like I am not the least bit afraid. "I...I couldn't do it."
The smile slips away, and her eyes are hard through the mask. "I see."
"Please don't let that affect your decision," Shale says quickly. "We are prepared to do everything it takes to keep low profiles."
Elara sighs and sits back against the chair. "A pregnancy is going to be extremely hard to hide. No compound is completely free of Chinese scrutiny. This complicates things. I’m sorry; there’s nothing I can do for you now."
I cannot help it—I begin to tremble. I have to keep my baby safe; it is an irrepressible urge inside me. And yet the woman who has the key says no. I cannot wrap my mind around her outright rejection. "You—you had a daughter once. You must know how difficult this is. Please, don't...don't deny us." I see Shale's posture stiffen in my peripheral vision. Perhaps bringing up her daughter will only make her angrier, more shuttered.
She stares at me for a long moment, and that hidden fever blazes in her eyes again, just like last time. She flicks a glance at Shale. "Would you excuse us, please? I'd like to speak with Vika alone. Woman to woman."
He gets up and walks to the door. Turning before he steps out, he says, "I'll be right outside." His eyes tell me all I have to do is call his name and he’ll be back at my side in an instant.
When the door closes behind him, Elara smiles at me. Her teeth sparkle, a glowing white behind the deep red of her painted lips. "He's in love with you, isn't he?"
I am not sure of the purpose behind her asking. "We've been through so much together," I respond carefully.
She nods and drums her slender fingers on the table as she thinks. Then she stands up and comes around to my side, perching on the edge of her ornate wooden desk. We are only a few inches apart; I can feel the heat of her body, smell her scent. It reminds me of chilly winter mornings and something veiled, like fog wafting off a river. "The compound you want entry into is our most prized. It is also the one least policed by Monitors, and with the highest levels of Radical and Sympathetic leaders."
"I understand. But I am prepared to help you in whatever capacity you need. We won't be burdens on you. I used to work at the Bureau of Transregional Affairs. I know about handling sensitive information. I could be an asset. My family won't bring you down, Elara. Just give us a chance."
"Do you know," she says finally, placing her hands flat on the desk behind her and leaning back to look down at me, "I'm thirty-four years old?"
I don't respond, unsure of what this has to do with what we've been speaking about.
"Venus—my daughter—died when I was twenty-seven. I've been without her, without a family, for far too long. Seven years without family...it changes you. It's changed me, I can feel it. I'm ready for more from life now." She stares at me intently.
What is her purpose in telling me this? And why is she looking at me like that again? Somewhere deep inside, I feel a sense of dread, of something coming that I am helpless to stop. "I...see."
She leans down and puts one of her hands on mine. Our hands are almost the same size, but hers feels stronger somehow, like iron cloaked in velvet. "I don’t think you do. You and me, Vika. We can be happy together. I can protect the lot of you—your sister and your unborn child. We can make a life together. I promise, you and your family won't want for anything."
I stare at her, though I know she’s waiting for a response. Because somehow, somehow I knew. I knew the price I’d have to pay for saving my child’s life would be something of this magnitude.
"What about Shale?" I ask through lips that are numb.
Elara straightens, removes her hand from mine. Her mouth is set in a hard line. "We must all make sacrifices. Yours will be Shale Underwood. Leave him behind."
I clamp my lips together, unable to believe what she is saying. I hope my voice won't tremble when I speak, but it does. "I don't think I can do that. Shale is...he's part of my family, too."
Elara's face is hard, her smile bitter. "Oh, is he now? Have you forgotten what he is? A Husband, assigned to you to make a healthy baby. You've done that, which means you don't need him anymore. Do you think he's capable of anything more than sex?"
Anger coils inside me. "It's not like that between us."
"Maybe not now," Elara says. "But what do you think it'll be like a year from now? Five years, ten?" She comes to sit beside me in the chair Shale has only just vacated. "He's a man, Vika," she says to me earnestly. "Unable to make the bonds of which only women are capable. It's why our regime back home made sure we used them only for procreation. Women were for bonding, for lifelong love." She smiles softly and brushes my hair from my cheek. I try not to flinch. "I know everything's different for you. You're scared for you, for your sister, for the life that grows inside you. Why don't you take some time to think about it? Come back in a week. Tell me what you've decided." She squeezes my hand once and then lets go. "I know it'll be the right choice."
I stand, my legs stiff, a pain in my back that wasn't there before. I make my way to the door and then put my mask on. Before I leave, Elara says, "Vika."
I turn to find that she is back behind her desk. Her dark red lips are pulled into a smile. "Take care of yourself and the baby."
I nod and leave.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that Shale is not in the hall outside. I need a moment to myself, just to think about what happened and what I will do. I have seven days. I already know what my answer will be: No. I can't possibly live a lie with Elara.
But can't you? a tiny voice inside my brain asks. Not even for Ceres? For the baby you so desperately want to protect? After all Ceres has been through, after how far we've come, what will happen to her now if we're captured? If we're tortured? She won't stand a chance. She won't survive it.
I walk numbly down the hallway, past the velvet curtain and door separating the hallway from the rest of the yez. The noise, before so loud and even painful, is soothing somehow. The thumping reverberates through my bones, until I imagine that my whole body vibrates like a tuning fork, concentric circles in my blood moving outward.
The baby flutters again. Perhaps she can feel the music. Does she approve? I put my hand on my stomach and turn to survey the room. A short, squat woman in a black, lacy mask, standing no more than a foot or two away, smiles at me. The corners of her mouth are bracketed with lines; her eyes shine. In her hands, she holds a big glass of amber liquid. I smile back tentatively and seemingly emboldened, she steps forward.
"You've got a life in you," she says near my ear. Her accent is thick, similar to that of the Monitors’. She must be Chinese. Her glassy gaze alights on my stomach and her breath smells stale, like the alcohol she's drinking.
"Yes." I take a deep breath and smooth the front of my gown. It must accentuate my figure more than I’d thought. "Sometimes it's overwhelming. I wonder if I can protect her like I need to." I'm not sure why I tell her this; she is Chinese, and her loyalties probably do not lie in the same place as mine. Maybe it's because the age I estimate her to be is the same age as my mother, and I ache for a maternal bond. Maybe it's because her smile is kind and gentle. Maybe it's that hint of mothering in her voice—I feel absolutely no threat in the way she speaks or holds herself. As if she doesn’t see me as a New Amanian woman, but simply another human being.
"You'll do what you need to." She looks straight into my eyes. Hers are black with little splinters of red in them, like crimson rock stuck in tar. "You have a quiet strength in you. I see it."
I want to sob at the openness in her voice. If only she knew the choice I was facing, the two paths that lie before me. I feel a hand on my arm then, and turn to see Shale, looking down at me in concern. He glares at the woman and she shuffles away. I want to tell her to come back, to talk to me some more. But she's gone and my voice stays stuck in my throat like a fish bone.
"Are you all right?" Shale says, searching my eyes. "I stepped away for a moment to look around the yez and when I went back, you were gone."
I nod and swipe at my eyes. "I'm fine. But we need to talk."