After (13 page)

After a while she asks, “So, what happened tonight?”

“A while back,” he whispers, “before Jake showed up, before I knew what had been done to Evan and Diego, I started seeing things.

“The first time, I thought it was just a clandestine rendezvous, a couple of guys sneaking off for a bit. I didn't even really see for sure who it was. But the second time, I saw someone leave the supply during a shift—no one should have been in there. I hung around a few minutes, and saw Evan coming out. Clearly shaken up. And when I went up to him, he was obviously scared. Not like I'd report him. Like I was going to do something to him.

“I asked if he was all right, and he tried to pull himself together and act like everything was fine. I knew there was something fucked up going on, but he stonewalled me.

“So later I tracked down the other guy. Mentioned seeing him and Evan. He played coy for a bit, but finally said something about if I ever needed a little release, Evan would help me out. And then the guy added something about, if Evan didn't feel like helping me out, I should let him know, and he'd get Evan straightened out.

“I waited for a chance to talk to Evan alone. And I really meant to just talk to him.

But I'd sort of cornered him in the mess—he had K.P. duty—and before I'd really said anything, I don't know, this expression just came over his face, a kind of resignation.

“Evan was shaking, and I felt bad. I wanted to tell him I wasn't going to hurt him, but then he'd never tell me what was going on. I remember he looked like he was going to cry, but he didn't. And he said something like, 'You too, huh? I figured it was just a matter of time.' His mouth was turned down while he said it, so bitter, and in my life I've never felt so hated. Then he got on his knees and reached for my fly.

“I backed away. Told him to get up. It took a while, but I finally got it out of him.

What I told you already, about the gang-rape. And later, how two of them had cornered Evan on his own and told him if he didn't do what they wanted, they'd give Diego the treatment they'd given him in the latrine that night. They'd been blackmailing him for months. Jake, too. Not just the ones who'd participated in the rape. Almost every man one base, Evan said.

“When I asked if he'd gone to Smith, he said Smith hadn't kept him safe, so he knew he couldn't keep Diego safe, so there was no point. He told me Diego didn't know anything about it. And then he begged me not to tell either of them. He was terrified that if Smith found out and punished the men, they'd take their revenge on Diego. And if Diego found out, Evan had this idea he'd probably kill a couple of the men, and end up dead himself, in the end.

“So I do nothing. Most of the time. But tonight I happened to walk in on something.”

“You stopped it?” Eva asks.

“I couldn't just turn around and walk away. But I hope I haven't made things worse for him, now.”

* * * *

“John?”

“Hmm?”

“Does Smith have a confidant?”

“I don’t know. Me, maybe.”

“He considers you a friend?”

John hesitates before telling her, “In a strange way, I’d say we’re friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t despise him?”

“No.”

“You agree with him?”

“No, but I respect him. He isn’t the monster you think he is. The monstrous things he’s done he’s done from conviction.”

“One could say that about all history’s monsters.”

“He’s doing his best to do what is best for everyone, in the long run. Even for you.”

“So he listens to you. You influence him?”

“I’ve had some sway in the past.” John shrugs. “I don’t know about now.”

“Why?”

“It’s been hard, since you’ve been here.”

“You’ve fought about me?”

“Disagreed and fallen into silence.”

“I think you should reconcile with him.”

“Why?”

“I think he needs you, John. It’s important that he not be alone in determining the fate of this little group. Will you go and see him tomorrow?”

The following day John and Smith recommence their old tradition, long-established before Eva’s arrival, of sitting and conversing for an hour or so each evening, after the work day was finished, before the dinner hour. Almost a week later, five days after their reconciliation, John stops by Smith’s office before going home to Eva.

“You sent tonight’s scenario to Eva, I suppose?” John asks, his quiet voice full of accusation.

“Yes.”

John says, “She got her period this morning.”

A hint of a frown suffuses Smith's stoic countenance. “I see. In that case, we’ll have a few days’ hiatus in the programming.

“Look, Smith. The men have had their fun. What are you going to do, keep her under the cameras for the rest of her life? Don’t you think you can put a permanent end to it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. But it’s too risky.”

“Smith, this sexual slavery scheme is no way to keep the imaginary wheels of progress churning. What kind of example are you setting for the men, like this?”

“I don't have the luxury of being a good example. If I take this away from the men, if I deprive them of a sanctioned channel, they’ll find other outlets for their fear, their depression, their rage over what’s happened.”

“If they get out of line, punish them. But you can't prevent exploitation and cruelty by holding your own up for them to watch three times a week.”

Smith’s face is pale, his body taut. “I know you think I’m some kind of maniac, with my elaborate schemes of sexual servitude. But do you really think I just decided, upon laying eyes on Eva, to force her into sexual bondage? It was neither a whim, nor some twisted fantasy of need or desire that I came up with. As you're perfectly aware, on more than one occasion, involving more than one group of individuals, the men were preying on each other. And there is no way that I can keep the obedience of the men in anything if I cannot ensure that they are safe from each other. With everything that’s happened, the men need to feel that they are stronger than something, that they have control over something. It’s sad. It’s a tragedy, but Eva fills that need.”

They both fall silent.

“John…I know it’s only been a few weeks, but you and Eva…you are trying, aren’t you? Because there’s no rigging the second lottery.”

“I know.”

* * * *

“Eva?”

“Mmmmm?”

“I wanted to ask you...” John looks like he wants to retreat. But he doesn't. “Have you thought any more about getting pregnant?”

She goes cold and still, pulling into herself until her body is no longer touching his, and says,

“I don't know how you can ask me that.”

“I know it's scary. You're so young—“

“It's not that. I mean, yeah, it's scary. I'd be scared. But I'm not thinking so much about me.” She is shaking. “How can you think I'd want to have a baby? Here? After what they've done? To Jake and Evan and Diego? To us?”

After a long quiet John says, “I know. But...”

“But what?”

“Could you really let it end? Here, with us? The whole human race?”

She shrugs indifferently, but her eyes fill with tears. “Why not? We did it to ourselves.”

“Not 'we'. A few people. Insane people.”

“Maybe,” she says, “but it's always like that. People have always done awful things. They were just more thorough this time.”

In a soft voice John says, “You sound like that's all there is. The ugliness. But there’s art, literature, science. There’s love. There’s kindness.” His fingers touch her hand, asking to hold it. “I’m naive to say so, I know, especially considering the circumstances, but I believe, I really believe that it’s possible to leave the brutality behind, to start over with a real gentleness.”

“Nothing gentle can come out of
this
.”

“It can. You’re here. I’m here.”

“We’re prisoners, being forced to work and fuck and procreate against our will.

And Jake and Evan…”

His carefully guarded stoicism cracks. “I know,” he says, his voice is full of sadness. “But you have to remember, Eva, this is not the world. This is one group of twenty men. Soldiers. Most of whom are really boys.”

Eva gives John a sad smile. “I wish I could be as hopeful as you are. But I'm not.

I'm sorry. I won’t be a breeder for Smith’s cherished community.”

* * * *

When they wake up it's just starting to get light. Eva turns onto her side and gazes at John. His eyes are open, fixed on the ceiling.

“You never seduce me,” she whispers.

He stays quiet.

“Not when we're scheduled,” she says. “And not when we aren't. When we're like this.”

“No,” he whispers back. “I know. Would it be better if I did?”

“Not if you don't mean it.”

He rolls onto his side, finds her hand under the covers, traces the outlines and contours with the tip of his finger.

“I don't when they're watching, because, I don't know, I want you to feel I'm on your side. Not like I'm panting for it when you're just trying to hold onto yourself.”

“I don't want you to put on some big act,” she tells him. “But if you're...eager, it'll be better, I think, if you don't try not to be.”

“All right.”

“About the new arrangement,” she says. “With the men getting to dictate what we have to do. I have an idea.”

“What's that?”

“When you're supposed to do something, like what we did last night, if it's something you'd like, normally, something you've done with your lovers, or something you've wanted to do, try to forget that someone else has told you to do it. Just come to me, like a real lover, and start it. And I'll try to forget the cameras and the men somewhere watching us, and just think about you.”

“All right.”

“If it's something you wouldn't want to do, just write it down. That way, it's for both of us to work out. You won't have to feel so much like you're doing it to me. Do you think it'll be easier that way? For you?”

He cups her head between his palms and presses a kiss to her forehead, then pulls her to him. She lets him hold her for a long time.

“I don't know how you can be like this,” he whispers to her.

“Like what?”

“So...rational, I guess. Or how you can find room to be so...careful of me.”

“I can imagine how things would be, if I'd been stuck with Riggs or one of the others after Smith's fucking lottery. You've been...good to me. And I see how it hurts you, what Smith's making you do.”

She studies his face a moment, runs her fingers slowly down from his temple, over cheek and jaw and chin, then presses a lingering kiss to his forehead.

“And when we're on our own?” She asks.

“How do you want me to be?”

“Do you ever want me?” she asks, her voice soft, her cheeks and chest flushing.

“Yes.” There's a soft laugh in his whisper.

“I mean, I'm not saying it's an all-access pass. But it's okay to ask. To make an overture. Give me a chance to say 'no' and get away with it,” she teases.

“Sounds dangerous to my ego.”

“Well, since you're fragile, I'll promise to take it easy on you, the first time.”

And she does.

CHAPTER NINE

“Ready to be seduced?” he teases as they begin their next scheduled performance for the four cameras, for the sixteen men. Or, seventeen, counting Smith, who will watch the rerun in the privacy of his office.

Eva laughs, then waits with a playful smile. He comes on as slow as ever, but now his slowness is a taunt. He lingers a millimeter from a kiss, his caress hovering over her body, stroking her arms, her hands, her hips and ass and back with little more than the heat of a promised touch.

By the time his lips touch hers she is taut, and by the time his touch feathers down her throat and over just the peaks of her breasts, her breaths are vibrating with a hum of want, of anticipated pleasure.

For long minutes he goes on teasing her, until she drifts after every receding kiss, every withdrawing touch, until she writhes against every little contact, seeking more.

Then he coaxes her onto her knees on the bed and kneels down behind her, pulling her back against him, cradling her to him with one arm, his free hand wisping up and down her arms, over her quivering belly, her aroused nipples, her damp sex.

“Will you let me feel what my caresses have done to you?” he asks her.

She stays mute, but nods her head.

“Open your thighs,” he whispers into her hair, and she does.

With the softest imaginable touch he discovers her wet heat, and teases her for long, fraught minutes, until her hips are flexing, seeking more.

“I want you, Eva. Do you feel?” he whispers, and she nods again.

“Remember how different it felt, the first time you were on top?”

“Yes.” Her voice is a low groan.

“You liked that.”

“Yes.”

“I want to take you this way, from behind. I think you'll like that, too. You'll feel me more deeply.”

She is still. Quiet.

“Nothing else different,” he whispers, caressing her arm.

She nods. Little by little he coaxes her down, onto hands and knees, down, onto forearms, staying with her all the way, his huge body curving over hers. When her head touches the mattress, he combs her hair aside, gets her to turn her head, lay her cheek on her forearm, so he can see her face. Kisses her eyebrow, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.

She looks scared.

“Just a new position,” he coos by her ear. “Trust me?”

She closes her eyes and nods.

On her shoulder blade he plants a little kiss. At the nape of her neck, another.

Then he moves on to the fervid nerves behind and below her ear. And her ear lobe, teasing with his teeth, his tongue until she is quivering, panting. On the mattress, his fingers weave into hers.

When he goes into her, she makes a small noise, something between a whimper and a groan. Then her stiff body shudders and softens.

John nuzzles into her hair, kisses her ear.

“All right?” he asks her.

“Yeah,” she sighs. And smiles.

At first he takes it slow, just flexing into her as he goes on teasing her with kisses all along her hairline—little brushes of his lips at her temple, wet, provoking kisses under her ear, across her nape. Then, watching her face, he comes on hotter, harder, thrusting deep. Her lips part wider, her exhales voiced and shuddering. He backs off, goes slow and easy, then pumps into her again, watching her brow furrow, watching her grip the sheet with one hand and clench his fingers with the other.