Sasha.
The man on the gurney was the most comprehensively broken human Sasha had ever seen. His jaw had been ripped completely out of its socket and shattered in four places. His eyes had been gouged into horrible smashed-grape looking things. His hands and fingers were all broken, as were his feet and shins. His ears appeared to have been bitten off. His tongue had been severed and the wound cauterized with something that had charred the flesh black.
Sasha hadn’t known a person could take such punishment and survive.
The chart at the end of the bed identified him as Sergeant Lufkin, a two-year veteran Martyr who’d been guarding a checkpoint outside of Dallas. He was conscious; every now and then he’d thrash about and let out a burbling moan. But the man didn’t appear capable of any sort of intelligible communication.
“Well, these aren’t combat injuries,” Dr. Brandt said. “These men look almost like they’ve been in a car wreck, only the damage is too precise and too deliberately targeted. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
It was Sasha’s duty to administer the men’s painkillers, just a tiny drop of morphine each. It wasn’t enough by any proper hospital’s standards. The soldiers were all in clear agony. But the Heavenly Kingdom was short on painkillers and this was the most they could afford to spare for “invalids,” as Dr. Brandt had called them.
This frustrated Sasha. Her mother’s hospital could’ve restored all four men to full health and vigor with, perhaps, a month of treatment and physical therapy. But the Heavenly Kingdom forbade vat-grown organs and limbs. Cloning contravened the Lord’s will. Sasha agreed with that, in theory. She’d fled to the Heavenly Kingdom partly because she believed JuvEn treatments had robbed the AmFed of its humanity.
But still. It seemed so wrong that these men would go the rest of their lives as twitching, insensate lumps of flesh.
The number of things that felt wrong about this place grew every day. The executions had been the first big shock to her system. But she’d accepted Helen’s justification. The Bible was filled with decent men doing awful things in times of war. The gallows weren’t pretty, but they were hardly without Biblical precedent.
She’d been unable to justify Alexander’s actions in the same way. Oh yes, she knew polygamy was condoned by the word of God. She’d read about Lamech and Abraham and Solomon and David and, of course, Jacob, the patriarch of the Twelve Tribes of Israel and apparent namesake for Alexander’s “order.” She still hated what he’d done to her. Sasha couldn’t bring herself to believe that a man as truly good as Pastor Mike would condone their actions.
“Polygamy is a biblically sound strategy for a people on the edge of destruction,” he’d written in one of his Revelator columns. “But it is not the human ideal. In our Lord’s eyes, the most perfect union is one man, one woman, and as many children as they can bear.” Had he decided since then that the Heavenly Kingdom was a people “on the edge of destruction”?
After the disastrous meeting with Alexander, Sasha had made her way back to the House of Miriam. Helen was seated at her desk when Sasha barged in. The older woman looked tired, resigned, and almost depressed. It seemed as if she’d been waiting for Sasha.
“Hello, dear,” she said with a sad smile, “I assume you just met with Alexander?”
“Yes!” Sasha couldn’t help but shout. “What they’re doing is vile, Helen. He wanted me as his third wife. He lied to convince me to come down here. He says there’s a whole group of Martyrs—they call themselves Jacobians—and they’re just catfishing girls down here. We have to tell someone. This isn’t OK. This is so wrong. I just, I can’t–”
Sasha started to sob. She’d been too angry to cry in front of Alexander. But the House of Miriam was a safe place. Helen was a safe person. Sasha’s grief caught up with her anger and she found herself doubled over on the floor, wracked by sobs. She lost herself in sorrow for a few long heartbeats, and then Helen was there beside her. She felt the older woman’s strong arms around her, felt a hand running through her hair.
“There, there, child. It’s alright. It’s going to be OK.”
“We have to do something,” Sasha choked out. “Pastor Mike needs to know what’s being done in his name.”
She looked up into Helen’s eyes. She saw pain and anger there.
“Sasha,” Helen said, “this will be hard for you to understand. But the Pastor is well aware of what those men are doing. I’ve spoken to him about it myself.”
Sasha stiffened. She pulled away from Helen, and Helen let her go. They sat next to each other, on the floor, in silence, until Sasha spoke again.
“Authenticity is the strongest arrow in our quiver,” she quoted. “When did that stop being true? When did it become OK to lie in the name of the Lord?”
Helen sighed and shook her head.
“It is not OK. But so much about this world we live in is not OK. They still murder forty-thousand babies per year in the American Federation. A hundred thousand in the California Republic. Sodomy and cloning are rampant all across the world. We, the faithful, are surrounded on all sides.”
Sasha recognized that last line. It was the opening sentence of Pastor Mike’s infamous “Sinful Continent in the Hands of an Angry God” column. Sasha couldn’t deny the truth of those words. Everything Helen said was accurate. But–
“But how are we any better than them if we stoop to dishonesty to fill the Heavenly Kingdom?”
Helen stiffened and straightened her back. “We are better than them, dear, because our goals are Godly.” There was a hint of pride in her voice. “We are fighting for the one singular Truth. You must never forget that the men and women fighting for that truth are flawed. We are all fallible. We will fall short of God’s standards. But we are also the only ones trying to meet God’s standards.”
“And that makes what Alexander did OK?”
Helen shook her head. Sasha saw tears in the corners of the older woman’s eyes.
“No, child. Nothing makes it OK. You were wronged. That boy played with your heart. He lied to you about his love. And that’s an unforgivable thing. But you’re here now, aren’t you? And that’s what matters most.”
Helen held her and talked with her for the next few hours. By the time the other girls came back, she felt better. Not good, exactly, but better. Stable enough to not burst into tears during dinner. She kept quiet at mealtime and was glad that the others seemed too exhausted from their day of labor to say much either.
After dinner they had another hour of personal time. Anne and Susannah zeroed in on her with military precision. Sasha’s vaunted poker face hadn’t been enough to hide her sorrow. Her new friends guided her to a corner of the room where they’d have relative privacy.
“What’s wrong?” Anne asked in a low voice. She and Susannah both laid their hands on Sasha’s shoulders. Sasha reached up to grasp both of their hands. It happened automatically, as if by reflex, but it brought her great comfort. She closed her eyes and stood quiet for a moment as her mind and heart calmed down.
“I met Alexander today,” she said.
Anne looked confused. Susannah frowned, then laughed and asked, “What, did he have bad breath? Were his eyes all…” she blew out her cheeks and crossed her eyes. Anne laughed, but Sasha stayed quiet. Susannah’s smile faded.
“Sash’,” she said in a quiet voice, “what happened?”
Sasha looked from Susannah to Anne. She felt a surge of gratitude in her new friends for being there at all. She took a deep breath in and then told them what had happened. She went quickly, in the hope that her clipped recitation of events would make it all seem less devastating.
“Oh Sasha,” Anne said, “I’m so sorry. This has to be some sort of mistake.”
“Helen didn’t seem to think so,” Sasha said. “I don’t think Alexander lied about the Sons of Jacob being powerful here.”
“It’s chaos right now, Sash’,” Susannah assured her, “maybe a few guys can get away with acting like this now, during the war. But once it’s over Pastor Mike won’t let them treat us like this.”
Anne nodded.
“Kyle gets rotated back from the front tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll ask him about the Sons of Jacob. Maybe he’ll know something we can do.”
Sasha knew from the look she’d seen in Helen’s eyes that further protest against the Jacobians would be useless. And besides, she thought, the most painful thing was Alexander’s dishonesty. He’s already hurt me as much as he can. She tried to convince herself of that, just as she tried to enjoy the company of her friends without dwelling on the face of the boy who’d betrayed her. She was less than successful.
Bedtime came. The girls washed up, said their goodnights, and snuggled up in their beds. As usual, Sasha’s mind stayed awake and active. She wasn’t having second thoughts exactly—of course not, never! But so much about today felt wrong. Alexander and the Sons of Jacob, of course, but also that the brave men she’d worked on that afternoon would never walk or see or talk again. This is war, she reminded herself, a great deal of it is going to seem wrong.
The next morning and afternoon went by in a haze of industrious activity; breakfast and bandages and preparing medications for doctors and nurses. Sasha lost herself in the work and, for a few hours, wasn’t happy or sad.
Her shift at the hospital ended at five. She took her nightly jeep ride back to the House of Miriam, but rather than going right inside, she decided to take a walk around the downtown strip. She had a few ration scrips in her pocket, enough that she could’ve bought coffee or even a meal in the one functioning restaurant still in town. But she wasn’t hungry; she just wanted to walk.
This part of the Heavenly Kingdom looked less like a war zone and more like a functional polis with every passing day. Most of the piles of rubble and spent shell casings were gone now. There was still quite a lot of damage to all the buildings, and very few intact windows to be found, but that strange spoiled milk smell was gone. Some shops were open again, along with a small farmers’ market about ten minutes down from the House of Miriam. There were people out too. Not many families, yet, but she saw a lot of sweaty, tired-looking soldiers. They wandered in small groups and clustered around the strip’s only functional cafe.
There were refugees too, and new immigrants to the Kingdom. Greeters in blue and white uniforms, the foot soldiers of the Kingdom’s immigration department, led columns of them down the main drag and into old government buildings that had been repurposed into housing collectives. Sasha felt herself fill with a strange pride, at odds with all the doubt that still roiled in her gut. From right here, the Heavenly Kingdom looked exactly like what had been promised to her. It was still rough, raw, and unfinished, but it overflowed with the good intentions of Godly men and women.
Helen had been right. Sasha could see that now. As ugly as Alexander’s lies were, as detestable as she found the whole idea of the Jacobians, the Heavenly Kingdom was still a thing of beauty. It was still worth fighting for. She just had to accept that it would never be perfect, and–
“Hello, Sasha.”
She stopped. The hair prickled up on the back of her neck. Sasha turned around to face Alexander.
Sasha had been lost in thought, so it was hard to say how long they’d been following her. Three other young men were with him. They all wore clean, pressed new uniforms and sidearms at their waists. She didn’t recognize the rank insignias on their shoulders. But she did notice that each of them wore a large gold badge in the shape of a lion’s head on their lapel. She’d seen a lot of uniformed Martyrs during her short time with the Heavenly Kingdom. She’d never seen a badge like that before.
“Hello, Alexander.” She tried to keep her voice cool, but respectful. “Hello, brothers. Peace be with you.”
“And also with you,” the other young men mumbled by habit.
“Are you walking alone right now, my dear?” Alexander asked. His lips curled up into an unctuous smile. “That worries me. These streets still aren’t as safe as they should be. Let us walk with you a while.”
Sasha stiffened. There was something dark in Alexander’s eyes. She wondered if it had always been there and she’d just ignored it before. Her heart began to race. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck. There were a lot of people around still, but she was away from the most crowded part of the main drag. It wouldn’t be hard for three strong young men to move her somewhere less visible.
“I’d prefer to walk alone.” She tried to keep her tone even. Sasha felt like they must still have heard the trembling in her voice.
“That’s nonsense, Sasha,” Alexander said. “No woman wants to be alone when they can enjoy the company of their protectors.”
He stepped toward her, reached a hand out, and brushed the hair away from her eyes. Alexander stroked her cheek. His hand drifted down to her shoulder, where he applied firm pressure. Sasha wanted to pull away. But Alexander was much larger than she was. He had a gun, and two friends with guns, and apparently the personal support of Pastor Mike. So she stood still and tried to stop her heart from beating quite so fast.
“Sasha,” he said in the gentle, sweet voice that had helped to carry her here, “you deserve to be cared for. I know the full truth was a shock to you, and I’m not angry at your reaction. Really. But you’re still holding onto fragments of the secular world. You need to drop that veil from your eyes and accept that God wants this. He wants men like us…” Alexander gestured to his friends, “men with superior talents, to breed and fill the world with more holy warriors.”
Sasha closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in, and out, and then another. Just go with it, a part of her said, he won’t hurt you if you just tell him what he wants to hear. She knew that wasn’t right, though. She hadn’t risked her life to cross into the Heavenly Kingdom just to compromise her morals now.
“I am doing good and valuable work here,” she replied in the calmest voice she could muster. “I don’t want to be your third wife. I know God has another purpose for me, and I intend to seek it ou–”
His hand clenched tight on her shoulder. Sasha’s eyes widened in fear. There was something dull, black, and hungry in his eyes. The two men behind him straightened their backs and started glancing around, scoping out the area.
“Sasha,” Alexander said, “I brought you here. You are my responsibility. I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly. We should take a walk and find somewhere private to talk about all this. I’ve commandeered a home nearby. Come on. Walk with me.”
He pushed at her the whole time he spoke and grew angrier with each passing word, so that by the time he said “Walk with me” his voice had grown tight and cold. Sasha steadied her heart, met his eyes with as steady a gaze as she could manage, and said:
“I. Don’t. Want. To. Walk. With. You.”
Her heart was pounding so loud she was sure Alexander and his friends could hear it. But Sasha didn’t move. She was sure any minute now he’d grab her full on and force her forward. But before he had the chance a familiar voice called for her.
“Sasha! Is that you?”
It was Dr. Brandt. In all her focus on Alexander and his posse, she hadn’t even noticed the electric hum of the doctor’s jeep as it pulled up behind them on the main street.
“Yes, sir!” she cried, her voice a bit higher and more frantic than she’d meant it to sound. “What do you need?”
“Get in the back, girl. You can flirt with soldiers later. The Heavenly Kingdom needs your skills. We’ve got a little bit of an issue.”
Alexander’s face went purple. The two men behind him seemed confused. One put a hand on his gun but Alexander waved him back. He shot Sasha a vicious look and then turned to Dr. Brandt, suddenly composed.
“Any idea how long you’ll need her?”
“What are you? A lieutenant?” Dr. Brandt scoffed. “She’ll be gone as long as the Kingdom needs her. I don’t see a ring on either of your fingers, so I’m fairly certain it’s not your place to care how long this takes. Sasha,” he beckoned to her with his index finger, “come on now, girl.”
“Gladly!” she said with a genuine smile. Sasha darted past Alexander and his men and hopped up into the backseat of the jeep. She tried to keep her head and eyes down while the doctor’s driver gunned the engine and sped off down main street.
Once they were under way, Dr. Brandt turned back to her.
“Sasha,” he asked, “was anything going on with those young men? Anything…untoward? I ask because you seem positively elated I’ve picked you up to deal with a problem.”
Do I tell him the truth? Sasha wondered. Do I admit I was lured to the Kingdom by a catfisher? He’ll never take me seriously then. This job was her favorite part of serving the Kingdom. Sasha didn’t want to say or do anything that might disrupt it. And besides, Dr. Brandt was a busy man. Lives were in his hands every day. I can’t distract him with this.
“No, no! Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”
Dr. Brandt gave her a stern look. Sasha smiled a tense smile in response. He shrugged and turned his head back to the road.
“Alright,” he said. And then: “There was a problem with one of your patient’s blood tests.”
“Oh,” Sasha frowned, “I’m so sorry. What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” Dr. Brandt assured her. “But that vile woman, Marigold. She’s pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Sasha was shocked. Most adult women in the American Federation had Aphrodite Rings installed. Sasha had refused hers, but the government offered them for free. They provided complete control over reproduction and allowed women to select whether or not they wanted to be fertile. She’d assumed anyone with as many bio-modifications as Marigold would have a Ring as well.
Maybe she just wants a baby. For some reason, Sasha hadn’t initially considered that a possibility. It was hard to imagine someone as fallen as Marigold choosing to raise children.
“Yes, Sasha,” Dr. Brandt said. “Or, at least, that first test indicated so. False positives do still happen. That’s why we’re headed back. We need you to administer another test so we can be certain.”
“Well, shit,” Marigold grunted, “I didn’t expect to see you back this soon. You need a friend, darlin’?”
The heathen woman looked the same as she had on their last interaction. Her hair was less greasy, so they must’ve let her wash. But she wore the same slip dress and sat in the same corner of the same cell.
“Sorry, no.” Sasha said. “I’m here to administer a pregnancy test.”
Marigold’s eyes widened. For a few seconds the woman was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed, she nodded and clutched her left knee with her left hand.
“OK,” the captive said. “Right. Where do you want me to do it?”
“Do…?” Sasha looked down at the stick in her hand and realized how these things worked. I’m sure Dr. Brandt doesn’t expect me to watch her pee.
“You can go over to your…normal…space. I’ll just, I’ll turn around.”
She handed Marigold the test and spun around on her heels, so the other woman wouldn’t see how much she’d started to blush.
“Damn, girl. Are you that squicked out by the human body?”
“What?” Sasha asked without turning around.
“Your face is as red as a damn beet.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!”
Marigold laughed.
“You can turn around now. I’m decent, and done.”
Sasha turned around. Marigold smirked at her.
“You know,” she said, “that instinct to apologize actually might come in handy around here. I’m sure the sort of men who jump in on this bullshit will appreciate it.”
Sasha recovered her senses, and felt a bit of anger at Marigold’s words. “I don’t appreciate you saying those things,” she said. “The men here are good and brave and, a–” Sasha’s voice caught. It broke, just a little. Marigold saw and heard her doubt. The other woman didn’t laugh, like Sasha expected. In fact, her smile fell away. Marigold looked at her with something like pity.
“I know you don’t believe that,” she said.
Sasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. Then she replied, “No men are perfect, just as no women are perfect. But everyone here in the Kingdom tries, every day, to abide by the Lord’s will. That’s what elevates us above–”
Marigold interrupted, “Does your Lord say women don’t get last names?”
“We don’t use last names in the Kingdom because they distract us. We can’t afford connec–”
“The men keep their surnames. Don’t they?”
That was true. Sasha hadn’t thought about it much, what with everything else that was going on. But Dr. Brandt went by his last name, didn’t he? And Alexander had a surname too. She’s trying to weaken your faith in the Kingdom. Don’t give in to the doubts of the serpent.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sasha said, and immediately regretted it. Any response would surely just egg Marigold on. And sure enough–
“Oh, it doesn’t? Then why is that the rule?”
“Well, it’s obviously because we need some way to tell families apart from one another.”
“Yes,” Marigold smirked now, “and the only lineage that matters is the man’s, isn’t it? Women are just appendages in your belief system.”
“I AM NOT AN APPENDAGE!” Sasha shouted, surprised at her own anger. She heard shuffling feet, and a second later the guard had one hand on the door and another on his rifle.
“Is everything alright, miss?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” Sasha called back to him over her shoulder, “I’m fine. Sorry. She’s just…” Sasha fixed Marigold with a withering glare. “She’s very frustrating.”
Marigold smirked at that. Then she held out the test. Sasha hesitated for just a second before taking the strip from the other woman. Marigold smirked at that, too.
“You’re pregnant,” Sasha said.
“Ayep,” Marigold nodded.
“Congratulations,” Sasha tried to sound genuine. Marigold’s eyeroll didn’t help that cause.
“Oh yeah,” the other woman said, “this is a real joyous moment for me. I hope your people let me live long enough to know whether or not my kid’ll deserve a last name.”
“You know,” Sasha said in growing anger, “this place isn’t perfect, but if you got to know the people here you’d understand. They are the best people I’ve ever met. I wish you could have seen the welcome I received. I’ve never felt so–”
“Loved?” Marigold asked. “Like all you needed to do was show up to earn their acceptance?”
“…Yes,” Sasha admitted, suspicious.
“Did they, sort of, swarm you? But in a nice way? Everyone hugging you and holding you and offering you safe, physical affection?”
“Yes…”
Marigold nodded, as if she’d just gotten the answer to a longstanding question.
“They love-bombed you.”
“What?”
“It’s a tactic cults use,” Marigold explained. “You sorta overwhelm someone with love and acceptance and camaraderie and all that. It nurtures loyalty. And dependence.” She shrugged. “It’s a smart way to manipulate young people in your position. You’ve just fled your home and family for a strange and dangerous land. You’re scared and alone and isolated. And then, like magic, you’ve got a family and a support network.”
“You are so cynical…” Sasha had to fight back the urge to say “damned cynical.” This woman was making her forget herself. She opened her mouth, as if to deliver a tongue-lashing, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead she just narrowed her eyes at Marigold and stared for a few seconds.
“I’m leaving now,” she said. “I’m going to go enjoy the companionship of my new family. You enjoy this cell.”
Then Sasha turned on her heels and walked out.
She returned late to the House of Miriam. The other girls had already finished dinner. Helen had left out Sasha’s plate (a ham sandwich, carrot sticks, an apple, and a small block of cheese) and she took it into the common room where the other girls were talking and winding down from their day.
“Look who finally showed up,” Mae sneered when she walked in. “I guess you’re too important to eat with the rest of us now?”
“I–” Sasha started to reply. Then she saw Anne and Susannah huddled in the same corner where they’d all sat last night. There were tears on Anne’s face, and her eyes looked swollen and red. She made no noise, but her back and shoulders shook as she sat there, half-shielded from view in Susannah’s embrace.
Sasha gave Mae a dirty look but turned and moved past her, toward her friends. She heard the other girl scoff and say something to her coterie of friends. Sasha couldn’t hear what, though, and she didn’t much care. She squatted down next to Anne and put a hand on the back of her neck.
“Hey,” she said, not sure what else to say. Susannah met Sasha’s eyes and offered up a sad smile. Anne continued to sob. For a few minutes, they just held her. Sasha burned with morbid curiosity over what, exactly, had happened. She knew it must have something to do with Kyle. Anne had been set to meet with him today. Had he revealed himself as a Son of Jacob too?
“He’s dead,” Anne whispered in a cracked, broken voice. “I went to meet him at the Cafe Clement and there were two Martyrs there, waiting for me. They both,” she stifled a sob, “…they both smiled when they told me he’d been killed. They said I should thank God for the blessing of a death in battle.”
“I’m so sorry, Anne,” Sasha said. “Susannah and I are here, though. We’ll take care of you.”
She hoped that might comfort Anne a little. But the other girl lost herself in another fit of tears. Sasha’s heart broke for her. The pain over her own, comparatively minor tragedy flowed into the empathy she felt for Anne, and soon Sasha was crying too. She was sure some of the other girls were whispering about them, egged on by Mae. She didn’t care. After a few more minutes of tears, Anne managed to clear her throat and speak again.
“The men, the Martyrs I met told me the same thing,” she said. “They told me I’d be taken care of, that they’d find God’s choice for me among the Martyrs. I tried to tell them, I don’t want anyone else, not now. I need to mourn but they said, they said…” Anne’s voice caught in her throat, and she fought to throttle another sob before she continued. “They said the Heavenly Kingdom might not be able to wait for my grief to pass.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Susannah asked. Sasha didn’t say anything, because the only answer that occurred to her was surely unhelpful. She had a strong suspicion that the Sons of Jacob had turned their eyes on Anne.
Sasha stared into Marigold’s vagina. She’d seen it before, of course, the first time they’d met. But it hadn’t been her focus then, and she’d tried very hard not to look at it too much. Now though, the point was to look. Dr. Brandt had picked her up halfway through her shift at the hospital to conduct a pap smear on the captured woman. She’d only had about an hour to practice.
“It’s a procedure I’ve done myself a hundred times,” Dr. Brandt had told her, “but that was back in the AmFed. It’s a sinful thing for a man to touch a woman other than his wife. That’s why the Israelites used midwives. That’s why we use midwives. And I think this kind of work might be why God drew you here.”
His words made her proud. She liked Dr. Brandt, for all his prickliness. She also liked learning and feeling she had a useful skill that made her special. So she’d paid close attention as Dr. Brandt had walked her through the procedure. It had been fun, and the act of learning had distracted her from her worries about Anne and her own grief over Alexander.
Marigold shuddered as Sasha slid the speculum in past her labia.
“You could stand to be a little gentler. And would it kill you to, I dunno, warm it up first or something?”
“Dr. Brandt didn’t say to do that,” Sasha kept her voice firm. “This is for the baby’s good. I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable. This is my first time.”
The woman snorted.
“Oh, well, in that case you’re doing a great j– OW! Maybe a little less hard. And mine slopes down. You’re going against the grain.”
“The grain?”
Marigold rolled her eyes in disdain, but didn’t dignify Sasha with a response.
“You’re pushing the wrong way.”
Sasha readjusted, and Marigold gave a sigh of relief.
“That sucks less, at least. Thanks.”
Sasha busied herself with the swabbing and rubbing that came next. She worked slow, methodical, with as much care and gentleness as the instructions she’d received from Dr. Brandt would allow. She did her best to focus, but the other woman kept talking.
“You don’t look old enough to have graduated high school. I’m going to guess they don’t train teenagers to do Pap smears in the AmFed.” Marigold added, “Do they?” with surprising earnestness.
“No,” Sasha grunted.
“I’m gonna guess Dr. Whatshisname taught you then? Because why, he’s too scared of my demon snatch to come in here and do the job himself?”
Sasha’s face reddened. She did not like the word “snatch,” or Marigold’s casual mention of demons. But she kept her eyes straight and stared into the other woman’s vagina. I have one too. It’s not that big a deal, she told herself.
“It’s impressive you were able to learn that. I’m serious. Real props, lady. You’re the only woman I’ve seen do a damn thing around here. How’d you trick them into treating you sorta like a person?”
Sasha’s ire rose and rose and rose. Lord calm my heart, she prayed. I know she’s just trying to set me off. It’s just desperation, she told herself.
“How long do you think they’ll let you keep playing like you’ve got a real life? I’m gonna guess it won’t be too long before somebody puts a baby in you. You know that’ll be the end of all this, right? Like, your life, using your brain, all that. You’re going to be a brood mare before too–”
“STOP.” Sasha didn’t yell, but she used her firmest tone and she was quite loud about it. Despite herself, she looked up from her work and at Marigold’s face. The other woman didn’t look surprised or chagrined. One edge of her lips curled up into a wry grin. Her eyes twinkled. Sasha had never actually seen someone’s eyes twinkle before.
“There we go. I wondered where the edge was.”
“The edge of what?” Sasha asked without thinking. Idiot. This is exactly what she wants you to do.
“The edge of your patience. The point where meekness ends. I was worried they’d beaten it out of you.”
“No one beat me,” Sasha insisted. “And there’s nothing wrong with being meek. The Lord asks us to put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Maybe you wouldn’t be in a cell if you’d accepted that for yourself.”
“I’m in a cell because I came here to trade. We weren’t waging any kind of war. We weren’t harming anyone. We wanted freakin’ cheetos in exchange for our latest coffee crop. Your people killed the old government and captured us.”
Sasha closed her eyes, breathed in and out, and tried to calm herself. For some reason Marigold’s words made her feel anxious and angry. She wanted to say the anger was toward the other woman. But that wasn’t quite right. Marigold had been sarcastic and catty, but she’d also been complimentary, thoughtful, and far from cruel.
“I’m sure you’ll be sent back to your people soon. The Heavenly Kingdom doesn’t want any kind of fight with…with your city.”
“Yet.”
Sasha finished her work. She withdrew the speculum and started gathering up her kit.
“I do hope you’re not laboring under the impression that this war will ever end,” Marigold said. “Because it won’t. Not while your Kingdom exists.”
“You’re wrong. We’ll take Austin soon. And then there’ll be peace.”
“And what about El Paso?”
Sasha shrugged. “A heathen nation. But they haven’t launched any strikes against us. If they’ll let us be, we’ll let them be.”
“‘Remain and expand,’” Marigold quoted one of the slogans Pastor Mike had coined during the early days of the Kingdom. The other woman had a surprisingly deep understanding of their movement. Marigold continued.
“‘The Kingdom of God will remain and expand until it reunites this broken land, from sea to shining sea.’ That’s your prophet, right? Your mighty pastor? Sure sounds like a recipe for eternal war. Mexico, the Navajo, the California Republic, and the King of goddamn Albuquerque don’t seem likely to sign up for a theocracy. And those are just the big powers in the Southwest.”
Pastor Mike would have had an answer to that, of course. He’d said that as the Heavenly Kingdom grew it would draw in millions from around the world and become “a shining beacon to the fallen people of the world.” Fighting would be replaced by peaceful annexation.
She’d believed that once, before she left the American Federation. It had seemed sensible. With Alexander’s romantic words in her ear and the fiery prose from Revelator in her mind, how could she not believe? But now she’d spent time in the reality of the Heavenly Kingdom. She’d met beautiful people and seen wondrous things, but she’d also helped treat a seemingly endless train of broken men whose bodies had been shattered by war. She’d watched a dozen people be executed by hanging.
Sasha was anxious. And Marigold must have picked up on it. The other woman’s eyes changed. There was something almost predatory in them. She leaned forward.
“I know I’m hitting nerves, Sasha. That’s because you’re too smart for this shit. You got suckered into a fucking nightmare. It’s time to wake up.”
Sasha kept Marigold’s words in her mind as she headed back to the hospital. A fresh wave of wounded men had been sent over from the Lake Houston front, and she wound up working three hours later than normal just to help handle the load. It was a whirlwind of bloody bandages, screaming Martyrs, and irate, exhausted doctors trying to do too much with far too little. By the time she got off shift it was dark outside and downtown was almost deserted.
Her driver dropped her off in a weird spot at the other end of main street. It was a good two blocks away from the normal location, but she chalked that up to the fact that this wasn’t her normal driver. She didn’t really mind the extra walk. In fact, after an long day under the hospital’s florescent lights, a dark walk and some fresh air seemed relaxing.
So she strolled and she tried to forget the faces of the men she’d seen that day. For a few blissful minutes Marigold’s words fled from her head and she lost herself in the peace that came at the end of a good day’s labor. The streets of the Heavenly Kingdom felt safe. She’d done meaningful work. The Lord must be–
“Hey– HEY! No, please, I really don’t want to–”
Sasha heard a familiar female voice cry out in distress. A man yelled something, but she couldn’t tell what. The woman let out a brief scream that was muffled by something. Her voice sounded familiar. Very familiar. Was that…Anne?
Then Sasha rounded a corner and saw them. It was Anne, alright. The girl had a bag over her head but Sasha clearly recognized her friend. Two men in black uniforms held her by either arm and forced her to walk forward with them. Two other men walked beside them. They all wore red berets. The man who seemed to be their leader locked eyes with her.
It was Alexander.
“Sasha,” he said in a clipped tone. “You’re out quite late.”
She stopped. Stared. Anne continued to thrash between the men. Her cries were muffled by the bag but far from inaudible. She seemed terrified.
“Y-you, you all n-need to let her go,” Sasha insisted. “She belongs at the House of Miriam.”
Alexander laughed. “Where do you think we got her from, silly girl?”
Two of the other men laughed at that. They seemed nervous, though. She could see both hunger and a strange sort of anxiety in their eyes. Alexander was all hunger.
“Alexander, please–”
“Please what?” he asked with a wry smirk, “Deny this girl the bliss of serving God? Why would you want that for her? Do you even believe anymore, Sasha?”
His lips, the lips she’d dreamed about for months, the lips she’d watched say such lovely things to her, curled up in disgust.
“Look at you. You’re wearing surgical scrubs. You look like a man. You’ve lost your proper place in the world. It disgusts me that they let you do that work. Have you forgotten what God Himself calls on you to be? Titus 2:5, Sasha. Our Lord wants you to be ‘discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed.’ Remember that, Sasha?”
“None of you are her husband.”
Alexander laughed. “That’s not true at all!” He put a hand on the shoulder of one of the men restraining Anne. “Tomas here married her today. We’re just helping the happy couple to their marital bed.”
“Then why is there a bag on her head? Why is she fighting?”
“Because it was a rather abrupt marriage,” Alexander frowned. “And her mind is still polluted with ungodly ideas about how a marriage should look. Tomas chose her. The Spirit of the Lord spoke to him when he saw her from afar. It is right and good that they should be wed. And he moves up to the front tomorrow. Tonight will be his first and maybe last chance to help the Kingdom remain and expand.”
He held out a seal, a golden badge in the shape of shield with a heavy cross emblazoned across the front.
“This comes from the pastor. I have the authority to grant marriages to any worthy men who wish them.”
He smiled again. Sasha’s heart fluttered. She felt nausea rise up inside her.
“So back away. Let us pass. And I’d suggest you dedicate some more time to thinking about why God brought you here. When your time comes, I think you’d prefer doing this without the bag. But I’m fine either way, really.”
It was past dinner and past bedtime when she entered the House of Miriam. Helen was seated at her desk. She looked up as Sasha entered and, in an instant, Sasha knew there was no use in reporting what had happened to Anne. Helen’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy with tears. She knew.
“Sasha,” the older woman said, “I have some bad news–”
“I saw them,” Sasha said. “Is that what’s going to happen to all of us? Is this place just a holding area until we get married off?”
“This place is your home,” Helen said in a voice that was almost pleading. “It’s here, and I’m here, to shepherd you to the next phase in your life. Don’t you believe I want the best for you?”
“I do,” Sasha said. Her voice softened. “But Anne didn’t want this. She told me so. Didn’t she deserve time to grieve?”
“She did,” Helen said, “but the Lord demands sacrifices from all of us. Sometimes more sacrifices than seem fair. Anne is in a dark place now but the Lord will send his light to guide her.”
Helen seemed to straighten up as she spoke. Sasha saw resolve settle into the older woman’s flint-gray eyes.
“So may it be,” she said. “May the peace of the Lord be with you.”
Sasha started to walk off. She didn’t trust herself to stay and talk. She was sure more of her anger would bleed out into the conversation. And she wasn’t sure what Helen would do if she got the impression that Sasha’s loyalty had started to waver.
“Sasha, dear,” she said, and Sasha looked back. “You forgot your dinner. It’s in a bag on the table.”
Sasha took it and ate in silence, as fast as decorum would allow. Then she cleaned up for bed and headed back into the dormitories. As soon as she saw the light glinting off of Susannah’s open eyes, she knew the other girl was awake. Sasha knelt down at her bed and the two shared a long look. Susannah held out her hand and Sasha took it.
“What happened?” she asked.
“They let us out early and dropped us off downtown,” Susannah’s eyes were wet with tears. “Anne and I had a coffee and we visited the market. It was…nice, normal almost. We headed for the House of Miriam once it started to get dark and,” she gulped, “they were just there. Waiting with Miss Helen.”
Susannah swallowed loudly and her eyes grew watery, but she didn’t cry. Sasha was proud of her friend.
“That was them, wasn’t it?” Susannah asked. “Those men were the Sons of Jacob.”
Sasha just nodded.
“How long until they take me too?”