Blood Day (30 page)

Evelyn sat on the bed, hugging the pillow to her stomach.

“Are you quite all right, Dr. White?” said Evelyn without turning.

“I was just…remembering,” said Viv.

“That’s all I do,” said Evelyn. “I did terrible things to her. By the book. Things that we outlawed for a reason. But that was before.”

“Before the Annex,” said Viv.

“Yes,” Evelyn said bitterly.

“I need your help.”

Evelyn set the pillow down gently, patting it as she stood. She turned and looked at Viv.

“There’s a Rev,” said Viv. “A blood tester, who runs the blood through her own body. I don’t know how to get rid of her long enough to access the blood.”

“You’re the administrator,” said Evelyn. “You can do as you please.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” said Viv. “No one is free.”

“Tell me what you need me to do,” said Evelyn, suddenly sounding impossibly tired. The old woman closed her eyes.

“I’m expected to take blood to the party at six o’clock,” said Viv. “The last batch of the day. Everyone will go home after that. If you can get everyone out around a quarter till, that should be enough time…”

“Enough time to bleed?” said Evelyn.

“Yes, I suppose,” said Viv, feeling weak at the prospect.

“Have you given any thought as to how you are going to bleed a copious amount and then pretend that nothing has happened?”

“Well no,” said Viv. “I guess I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

Evelyn eyed the pocket where Viv had slipped the boxcutter.

“So you were just going to slice yourself open, were you?” said Evelyn. “Maybe pass out on the floor and then they’d find your lifeless body in the morning?”

“I don’t have any experience at espionage,” Viv snapped. “I suppose you have a better idea.”

“I do,” said Evelyn. “It's time for your blood day, Dr. White. The most important blood day you’ve ever had.”

“What?” said Viv. “No, I don’t go in until…” Viv saw the old woman raise an eyebrow. Evelyn walked out of the room and came back wheeling a cart.

“How big are your pockets, Dr. White?” said Evelyn. She held up the tray of vials from her cart. “Big enough, I suppose,” said Viv, pulling the boxcutter out of her pocket and stuffing her hands in. “So long as I don’t try any gymnastics.”

“A pint will do, I think,” said Evelyn. “Just a taste will corrupt them.”

“Are you sure about that?” said Viv. “About any of this, I mean. The blood, it seems too easy.”

“Occam’s Razor, doctor.”

“Yes, but, blood can’t be the answer to killing them,” said Viv. “It’s too easy. Can they really be so weak?”

Evelyn guided Viv back until she sat down on the bed, then proceeded to wipe her arm with an alcohol swab. Viv winced. She’d given blood so many times she was constantly sore and flinched when she bent her arms. The thought of a needle going in sent shivers down her spine every week. But this was important.

“I’ve seen the survivors,” said Evelyn. “And surviving is worse, believe me.”

“Okay,” said Viv, turning her head away. “Go ahead. Do it.”

“Try not to faint,” said Evelyn, wrapping the standard blue tourniquet around her upper arm with a sound like a rubber glove. “You already look half a ghost.”

Viv thought she had never heard anything more true. She watched Evelyn slide the needle into her vein, then pop a vial into the vacutainer. Blood immediately filled the vial and Evelyn replaced it with an empty one, passing the full vial to Viv. She held it up, looking at the dark fluid inside. So much fuss for such a small thing. Blood. And to think that even a tiny vial like this could poison them. Viv shook her head as she slipped it into her pocket.
 

As she returned to the plant, the vials clinked softly in her pockets. Viv was all too aware of the bulge in her pants, though no one else seemed to notice. If the glass broke or a lid popped off, though, she was sunk. She walked gingerly back and forth, being careful to slip off to her office to drink water so she didn’t pass out. She found a packet of crackers in her desk drawer, fingering the bottle of booze before rejecting it, walking carefully back into the plant. She felt lightheaded, with shadows around her vision, as if she were treading at the cusp of unconsciousness. Once she had to go into her office and slap herself to stay awake. She couldn’t fail. She couldn’t screw this up by passing out. She had to be Dr. White the successful doctor tonight. Not Viv White, the broken drunk. Tonight, she wasn’t broken. She was an instrument. She was the scalpel that would carve the cancer out of this city. It would be up to others for the rest. But for tonight, it was all up to Viv.
 

Straightening, she looked at her watch. 5:37. She walked out into the plant with her head in the air. People in the plant itself were starting to pack up their things. They were finished for the day. The blood was being filtered seven times over, Viv could watch its progress through the glass tubes. A team would come in tonight to clean the machines, so people were free to go, but they milled about, waiting.

“If you are not needed right now,” Viv called, “you are dismissed. Great job, everyone. See you tomorrow.”

Among cheerful chatter, several of the workers found their coats and walked out, nodding and waving to her. She made her mouth smile. When the blood was filtered, it was sucked through a transparent tube half the size of a telephone pole to the bagging room. Viv looked at her watch. 5:44.
Come on, Evelyn
. If Linda started bagging the blood, it would be too late. The blood would be inaccessible at that point. The machine would lock her out and she wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done.

“Excuse me, all human workers,” boomed a woman’s voice. Everyone who hadn’t left already turned. Linda poked her head out of the room. Evelyn stood on the plant floor with a surgical mask on her face. Even Frake turned to listen.

“Due to an administrative error,” boomed Evelyn, “we have misplaced the timecards for the week. To ensure that we can issue your paychecks, please follow me to Human Resources to manually sign your replacement forms. It will only take a few moments.”

“Ms. White,” said Linda, looking back at the machine she was in charge of. Viv could see the panic in her eyes behind her safety glasses and surgical mask. “What should I do? I’m not supposed to leave the machine unattended. My husband, he’s…” she glanced at Frake behind her. “He’s not well, we need the money.”

Viv smiled. “It’s all right, Linda. I’ll take over. There’s only the bagging left anyway. Fill out your papers and then go home to your family. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Linda looked like she wanted to hug Viv. “Thank you, ma’am. This is the best job I’ve ever had. I’m grateful.”

Viv watched them all file out, following Evelyn. She walked into the bagging room and looked at Frake, watching her with alien eyes. Viv smiled, her heart pounding. If she were able to kill the Rev, would they know before she could get the blood to V-wing? Viv felt the blood in her pocket. The Rev narrowed her eyes, as if suspecting something. Viv was starting to panic. What was she going to do? She thought Evelyn would help her take care of Frake as well, but now she didn’t know what to do. They said the Revs couldn’t be killed in the usual ways. They regenerated too quickly. If she could get her blood in the Rev’s veins…

“Hello, excuse me?” said a loud voice suddenly, making Viv jump. She turned and her eyes widened.

“Dr. White,” said Margaret Watts. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Miss Watts,” said Viv.
 

“I hope your position is treating you well.”

“Yes, thank you so much,” said Viv. “It has been everything I ever hoped for.”

“All we can ask for in this world,” said Watts, “is satisfaction.” She eyed Frake distastefully. “You’d better wipe that superior look off your face, my dear,” she said to the Rev. “The president is here.”

“Here?” said Viv.

“Yes,” said Margaret. “He is very curious about this place. Centralized purification was his idea, you know.”

“I didn’t know,” said Viv.

“You,” she said, pointing to Frake. “Go meet your master.”
 

Frake stared at her for a moment, then stalked past the president’s personal secretary.
 

“Where is everyone?” said Watts.

“We're all done here, so I’ve dismissed the workers and thanked them for their excellent efforts today,” said Viv.
 

“I see,” she said. “And you?”

“Just bagging the last batch for the party,” said Viv. “Then I’ll be out to give the president the tour.”

“Just like old times.”

“Yes,” said Viv. “How wonderful.”

“Well, don’t take too long,” said Watts, looking behind her. “I’m not sure the Rev can hold her end of the conversation with our Conrad.”

“Of course,” said Viv, busying herself with a pair of rubber gloves until she heard the door swing shut.
 

Viv wasted no time. She jumped up onto a plastic crate until she could hook her foot into the metal ladder on the side of the machine. The door was tightly shut and it took all her remaining strength to open it. Finally, it came open with a loud squeal. Pulling the vials out of one pocket, she pulled off the rubber caps and threw them in, glass and rubber and all, watching them sink in the tank of purified blood. She did the same with the vials from her other pocket. Her own blood was darker and thicker than the watery, bright red of the tank. She hefted the round lid back to the machine and screwed it into place, her vision going dark for a heartbeat, before the world came swimming back into focus. She could hear a murmur of voices coming closer, just outside the door. She had just gotten the lid back on when the door swung open and there she was, standing there with an empty bag in her gloved hand, still perched on the ladder.

“Well what’s all this, then?” said the president, his teeth sharp and digging into his chin.
 

Frake, standing behind him, hissed.

Viv stepped down from the ladder and made her face calm.

“A bag became jammed in the machine,” she said, tossing the dripping plastic into the biohazard bag. “Fine now. I’m about to fill the bags for the party. I apologize for the delay.”

Conrad stared at her for a long moment. Viv forced her heart to slow, afraid he would see her pulse jumping. He eyed the latex gloves that covered her arms past the elbows.

“Continue, Ms. White,” he said, something like a smile in his eyes. “By all means, the blood is the thing, is it not? I matter very little.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean…” said Viv.

“I’m being completely serious, my dear,” said Conrad. “Please, continue.” He looked back at Frake, then at Watts.

“Margaret, please,” he said.

“Ah, yes,” said Watts. “Frake, you are dismissed. The president does not require you to be here.”

“But, sir,” said Frake, the first words Viv heard her speak.

“Do you intend to argue?” said Watts, with an expression as if she were daring her to. “The president himself hired this woman to run this plant. She doesn’t need your fetid breath over her shoulder.”

Frake bowed. “Thank you, I’ll be going.”

“You are permitted to attend the party,” said Watts, “but stay in the back, won’t you? The president abhors sycophants.”

When Frake was gone, Margaret smiled at Viv. “That must have been unpleasant,” she said. “All this extra security makes the president look weak.”

“Indeed,” said Conrad. He fixed Watts with an odd look of affection that made Viv wonder just how long Margaret had been with Conrad. She must have been a beauty once.

“Ms. White, I will leave you to finish your job,” said Conrad, his voice quiet and polite. “This is all very impressive. I will have to return for a formal tour before I leave.”

“I am looking forward to that, sir,” said Viv. She started to load up the empty bags as the machine chimed that it was ready.

“See you at the party, doctor,” said Margaret Watts. She took the president’s arm as they left.

“Secretary my ass,” said Viv.

She bagged up the tainted blood and piled the plump bags on a silver cart until it was almost overflowing. She smiled as she looked at the tainted blood, rubbing her arm where Evelyn had taken the blood. She looked at her watch.

Six o’clock. Time to go.
 

Twenty-Eight

Sia had no idea what to expect as she walked into V-block. She’d never been to this part of the hospital before, even in her lessons with Mathilde. Sia took in the flickering gas lights, the sconces on the wall sputtering and occasionally dimming, making the scene before her even more surreal.

The walls were draped in a shimmering fabric of deep red, draped to suggest blood. A sparkling chandelier in the center of the room was filled with candles, their lights twinkling through the crystals. And the music. Sia felt the strings and winds vibrating through her bones, as if her very body were transmitting the sounds. There was small groups of guests in costumes around the edges of the room, laughing and chatting. In the middle of the room on an exquisite wooden dance floor, dozens of couples in fine clothes and elaborate masks, twirled elegantly in a waltz.
 

Mathilde squeezed her hand.

“
Ma belle
,” she said into Sia’s ear. “This is all for you, my sweet.”

Sia could feel the blood coursing through Mathilde, felt her pulse through their joined hands.
 

“You’re afraid,” said Sia.

“What?” said Mathilde, for a moment taken aback. Then she laughed. “Of course not, why on earth would I be afraid?”

A figure was moving from couple to couple on the outside of the dance floor, shaking hands with long, clawed fingers, acting every bit the politician. Sia recognized him even under his sleek black mask, which resembled a fierce wild cat. A jaguar or a panther, Sia thought.

“What is the President of the Revs doing here, at my party?” said Sia.
 

“My dear,” said Mathilde. “Ambrose Conrad is more than the Revenant president. He’s your president. He’s also my brother. We were raised in different homes, different parts of the world, but we are blood. Always blood.”