It is two more weeks until I hear back after Marisa’s contact passes on the note to Ananke. I spend them trying to remind myself that it won’t be much longer that I am here, on this compound. Soon I won’t have access to an obstetrician, and Ceres won’t have access to Dr. Phoebe. We’ll be out again, fugitives running for our lives. I concentrate on enjoying the feeling of the baby growing inside me, larger and larger. The obstetrician says the baby is consistently measuring ahead, that she might come early. The doctor has the ability to view the gender of the baby with her ultrasound machine, but I ask her to not tell me. I stay out of Elara’s way. And I wonder how Shale is.
Ceres asks me frequently about my meeting with him at the black market, and every time I tell her I haven’t heard back yet, the light in her eyes dims further. Though she doesn’t say it outright, I know she blames me. She thinks I’m not doing everything I can to speed up the process. I try to explain to her that it is essential we not make any brash decisions, but she doesn’t seem to understand. At least she promises me that she’s stopped sleeping with Beryl. I try to find some joy in this small measure of progress.
Still, there is a coolness in my sister now that wasn’t there before; a coolness toward me and toward life in general. She doesn’t grasp my hand to ground herself in the feeling of togetherness anymore. I wonder how she is managing to slip away when we are closer together, physically, than we’ve been before.
I am pondering this as I eat breakfast when there is a knock on the door that I have come to recognize as Marisa’s—two double taps in quick succession. I answer it, my heart beating quickly as it has every time she’s come over these past two weeks.
I watch in amazement when she hands me a small note, cupped in her hand, as she steps inside. I am incapable of doing anything but staring, my hand holding the piece of paper that is warm from her pocket and the sun. “Is it...is it bad news?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t read it.”
But something about the paper itself seems to give off a malevolent vibe. Or perhaps I am only steeling myself to expect the worse, since this message has been such a long time coming. Marisa closes the door behind her while I slowly unfold the small scrap of paper. The message is in a thin, scrawny hand.
Situation unsafe; cannot meet. Don’t write again; will write when able.
Someone must have transcribed this for Shale. Ananke? I imagine her petite hand writing the words, her own heart banging in her chest at the message she’s conveying. I close the paper with shaking hands and put it into my pocket, staring at nothing. My blood is flooded with panic.
“Kalliope?” Marisa’s hand is on my arm, the solid weight grounding. Her voice is soft and calming; she is mothering me again, as she so often does when she senses that I’m stressed. “You’ve turned white. What is it?”
I look at her, noting with surprise that she is blurry. There are tears in my eyes. “I-I think Coal’s in trouble. He says it’s unsafe to meet.”
Marisa purses her lips, the wrinkles around her mouth deepening. Her face is awash with pity. “I haven’t heard anything at the yez. Perhaps he’s just being cautious.”
“Or it’s being kept quiet.” The baby turns a cartwheel, perhaps tasting the panic too. “Marisa...what if they capture him?” I don’t say, what if Elara has done something? I wouldn’t put it past her. In fact, how did I not expect this to happen?
She looks at me steadily and shakes her head. The red in her irises seems to glimmer. “They won’t. He’s been shrewd enough to escape detection so far.” Her hand on my arm tightens. “You can’t do anything about it now. There’s no point in worrying yourself sick.”
“But maybe I should go to the yez, try to find out—”
“How do you think Elara would feel about that if she learned of it?” Marisa’s voice is calm, but her gaze is sharp like shards of ice. I told her about Elara’s threat to keep me chained to the bed. “And what do you think would happen if she kicked you out of here? It’s not just you you have to think about.”
She’s right. At this point it’s much too dangerous to charge forward without a concrete strategy of where I’d go. I need time to think, to formulate a plan.
I follow Marisa to Elara’s library so we can unpack her deliveries, my brain churning with the bits of information I’ve amassed in my time away from the agrarian compound. Is there anything I can use to help Shale? What can I do?
Marisa, unaware of my wandering mind, talks while I help her unwrap her things in Elara’s study. I study her fine lines and deepening wrinkles, masked under a layer of makeup.
“Who were you? Before you began to do this?” I gesture to the boxes of candy glass and alcohol. Our past lives are usually something we take care not to discuss. But I can’t help it. Standing here, on the edge of a major change, I feel as though I can throw caution to the wind.
She smiles, her yellowing teeth not lessening the beauty of her smile at all. “An absolute nobody. I was a low-level worker in food production. I simply detested the oppression of our government, the absolute desolation of our days. I began my drift to the underground life by selling drugs on the black market. That’s when I began to read. And what I read—those stories ignited something in me.” She trails off, her eyes looking past me. After a moment, she shakes her head slightly. “Anyway, selling drugs garners you quite a few faithful friends, it seems. One of my customers got me into the yez so I could pass out my wares to the officials there. They liked what I brought, so they put me in charge of their deliveries.”
It occurs to me that Marisa’s eyes are much younger than the rest of her. I don’t think they’ll ever age. She has a spark, a light in them that says she will always find a way around the system, the dictatorship, the authority figures who deal in subjugation.
When she leaves to make another delivery, I stand and take stock of the library. It’s small, lined with shelves and dominated by the large desk in the center. Would Elara have useful information in here? I’ve never dared look before because it wasn’t worth the risk. If I left any evidence of having been through her things, she might decide to abandon Ceres and me. But now, with Shale in danger, I can’t afford to be so cautious.
I go to her desk and tentatively open one drawer. Empty except for a variety of pens. I close it and open another. This one’s filled with a variety of files and books. I look toward the door, my heart pounding. If she comes back...I take a deep breath to steady my nerves. She isn’t due back till later today.
I sit in her chair and pull out the file on top. It contains various forms and documents for her job, none of which help me. I pull out the next book, which appears to be a budget of some kind. I put it away and grab yet another book. I’m riffling through the pages when I hear footsteps.
Elara.
I freeze for a moment. Then, in a flurry of activity, I begin to clean up after myself as Elara’s footsteps approach the library. I stand quickly, looking for a place to hide. But this room is wide open. I’m caught. I go around to the goods Marisa brought earlier. Perhaps I can say I was checking them. Perhaps—
The door swings open.
It’s Ceres, back home from school. The breath rushes from my lungs, relief coursing through my blood. I try to smile despite how much I’m shaking. “You’re home early.”
She looks past me at the empty room. “What are y-you doing...in here?”
I try not to let my smile fade, to let my nervousness show. “Nothing. Just checking on Marisa’s delivery.”
Ceres frowns a little. “You’re...lying.” She says this without inflection.
I straighten, a bit unnerved at how easy it was for her to recognize my untruth. “Okay. I was looking for...information about the compound.”
“But...why? What about y-your meeting...with Shale?”
I motion for us to step out, just in case Elara does come home early. I don’t want to be caught in her library. We walk to Ceres’s room, where she perches on the edge of her bed.
“I had a note, from the compound. It appears the situation has changed.”
Her hands clamp down on the edge of the mattress, her face pales. “What d-do you mean ‘changed’? Ch-changed how?”
I realize I’m unconsciously fingering the note in my pocket and force myself to pull my hand out. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
Ceres stares at me, anger spitting like sparks in her golden eyes. “I’m n-not a child anymore. D-don’t try to...protect me.”
I stare at her for a long time, wondering when this happened, when my little sister turned into a young woman intent on truth. And how can I begrudge her that? “All right.” I swallow down my own panic so I can be calm while I tell her. “Shale says it’s not safe for us to meet. I don’t know anything else, except that he said I’m not to contact him again. He’ll send more information along when he’s able.”
Ceres stands, her throat working. “W-we have to go...there. R-right now.” Her voice is high, like she is going to cry.
I take a step toward her and speak softly. “We can’t go. The Monitors know we fled; they think we died in the wilderness. We’ll be caught immediately.”
“W-we don’t have to go...to the compound. We c-can camp in the wilderness outside, and...w-wait for an opportunity. That guard, Aiguo. H-he was on our side.” She’s rambling, speaking fast, her words tangling together. She is desperate to rescue Shale. The bond they shared hasn’t lessened at all in the time they’ve been apart, I realize. Just like my love for him.
I shake my head, my heart breaking for her. “It’s too risky, and we can’t survive in the wilderness without shelter and food. Besides, if we run now, Elara will have us captured. She can’t afford that kind of risk. If we’re caught, they’ll want to know where we were this whole time and we might give up her name under torture.”
Ceres strides forward until we are nose to nose. She is almost as tall as me, able to gaze into my eyes now. Hers are panicked, terrified, and angry. Her voice rises with every word until she is screaming at me. “D-don’t you u-understand? He n-needs us. Don’t you c-care about him at all?”
Her words are needle sharp. They are things I’ve been torturing myself with since receiving the note. “Of course I care about him.” Ceres shakes her head and turns on her heel but I grab her arm, force her to look me in the eye. Taking her face gently in my hands, I say, “But I care about you, too. I care about the baby. I’m trying so hard. I just don’t see an easy way to remedy this.”
Tears stream down her cheeks. “If it w-were you, Shale wouldn’t think...twice about g-going back to the compound.”
She thinks I’m selfish, a coward. It is as if she’s hit me. I let her go and walk out of her room, every single part of me screaming in impotent agony.