Inside the Palisade (16 page)

When she sees me, she freezes in place, eyes fixing on mine through the glass.

She approaches from the other side of the partition. I panic. This was a stupid idea. I’m the reason her son is dead. I bolt down the hallway Gamma led me through earlier, past the closet where I tossed my cleaning bucket, all the way to the exit. Slamming the door behind me.

Again I’m running. Just like before. No clear destination. Only escape, pure and simple. Escape from myself. Eventually, my feet take me to the reflection pool. Where Ghent said goodbye. The water reflects the now-starry sky. An owl hoots in
the distance. It’s eerily peaceful. I drop to my knees and try to call to mind every detail of Ghent’s face. The color of his eyes, the asymmetric tilt of his lips. Someone should remember. Someone other than his family. He existed. He was a person and he was here. Even though he wasn’t meant to be.

A small metallic object glints under the moonlight, in the grass. I reach for it. It’s smooth and cool, and familiar: the receiver for Ghent’s transmitter. He must have left it here. After he heard what Ma Temple said to Delta. I can visualize him sitting where I am now, turning her words over in his mind. Making his decision. Did he think I’d try to stop him if he told me the truth? Or was he afraid I wouldn’t try? I hold the device against my cheek, letting a single tear wash over it.

Twigs rustle behind me and a dark figure emerges from the trees. Did someone follow me from the Clinic? I scan the woman from the ground up. She’s tall. Wearing dark trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, a cloak draped over her arm. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail.

“Omega?” She takes a step closer.

I blink in disbelief.

“Mom?”

She runs over and gathers me in her arms. How is she here? She holds me tight, smoothing my hair. Her heart thumps loud and true beneath my ear.

“It’s going to be alright,” she says. She smells of woodlands and fresh air. Her long hair is swept back from her face. She feels like home.

“What are you doing here?”

I allow her to guide me to a fallen log where she pulls me down beside her and loops her cloak over my shoulders. I slip Ghent’s transmitter into my pocket.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I should have been here. I was worried something like this might happen, but there were things I needed to do.”

I fall into her, allowing her to cradle my head against her shoulder.

“Do you want to tell me about what’s happened?” She plucks at a strand of hair plastered to my tear-stained cheek.

How can I tell her any of this? Now that I know what that
deman
did to her all those hundreds of weeks ago. She couldn’t possibly understand about Ghent.

“Mom, I know about what happened to you. Before I was born.”

The hand she had pressed against my cheek tenses. “Ma Temple told you.” It’s a statement, not a question. She drops her elbows to her knees and looks off into the distance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to explain. I understand if you’re angry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

I notice her communicator is missing from her wrist.

“Honey, there’s a lot I have to tell you. But we need to wait a few moments. We’re expecting company. She shouldn’t be long.”

“Who?”

Mom begins to rearrange my hair around my shoulders, straightening out some of the tangles.

“A new ally, I hope,” she says. “Before we get into all that, are you really okay?”

“Did Omicron call you back? What did she tell you?”

“I know you fell into something that should never have been your burden to carry. Please talk to me, honey.”

I’m actually surprised at how easy it is once I start talking. The words spill out. She doesn’t interrupt. Her expression darkens when I tell her about my encounter with Commander Theta. I spare her some of the details. They loved each other once. When I’m done, Mom rests her hands on either side of my face. Her skin smells of the woods and the fields. Her cloak slips to the ground, but neither of us moves to retrieve it. Her emerald eyes glint in the moonlight. The color that matches exactly one of
mine.

She stares up at the sky for a few moments before she says, “I suppose I should fill you in on a few things while we’re waiting. You need to know what really happened the first time I went outside the palisade, the whole story.”

“The first time?” I say.

“Ma Temple told you about how the Protectors found me, I suppose? With the emergency beacon?”

I nod, but I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.

“The thing is, I never activated that beacon. I didn’t even bring it with me when I left the palisade. I went out exploring without thinking it through. I had to know what was out there. I couldn’t bear for Theta and me to start a family of our own, without knowing. Our society won’t last like this forever. I couldn’t bring a child into the palisade without knowing there would be a bigger world for her to live in, that she wouldn’t die out with everyone else imprisoned inside these stone walls. I needed to know there would be more for her. For you.”

Her eyes narrow. “When that man took me…” she starts.

“You don’t have to tell me.” I reach for her hand, but she waves me away and keeps talking as if she won’t get through it if she lets herself stop.

“He held me in a cave for a while, but eventually, he left me there alone.” It’s hard to believe she’s talking about my biological father. “I must have passed out. The next thing I remember, the sun was setting and I was being carried to a clearing about fifty yards from the palisade. There were voices. Arguing around me. Concerned they were getting too close, that it wouldn’t be safe, but the man carrying me—”

“Another man?”

“Yes, a gentle soul. Your Ghent sounds a little like him.”
My Ghent.
A dark hollow in my chest cracks open as my mother continues. “He settled me on the ground and tucked my cloak
around me. He pressed an emergency beacon into my arms and activated it. I don’t know where he got it. He waited with me until he was sure the signal had been received, and then he disappeared. That’s how I know we’re not alone. There are people out there. Men and woman. Some of the voices I heard out there were women. I’m sure of it.”

“Why you didn’t tell me any of this before?”

“I didn’t think you were ready.”

“You said you’ve been outside more than once. When? Where we you really this week?”

A twig crackles behind us and I glance around as my mother whispers, “We can’t talk about that yet, but I’ll explain soon. I promise.”

Another shaded figure emerges at the edge of the trees.

“Sigma?” A familiar voice calls for my mother, sending a chill through my veins.
Ma Temple.
I can make out her white scrubs against the darkness. She’s holding something by her side. A Med-Kit? She killed Ghent and now she’s come for me and my mother. I shoot to my feet and launch myself at her, but something pulls me aside. My mother has me by the arm.

“Omega, it’s alright,” Mom says.

“Mom! Weren’t you listening to me? She killed Ghent. She’s working with them. It’s not safe.”

She grips my shoulders and turns me to face her. “Yes, it is honey. She’s with me. With us. We have a plan.”

Ma Temple hasn’t moved from her position at the edge of the clearing. Finally she speaks. “Omega, I’m not your enemy. Please believe that.” She takes a single step forward. I flinch.

“What’s the Med-Kit for?” I ask. “More lethal injections?”

My mother’s grip tightens around me. “She’s here to help, honey. I asked if she’d mind patching up your bruises before we get moving.” She glances at Ma Temple and a strange look passes between them. “Would it be alright if she takes a look?” My mother maneuvers me back to the log, and I let her press me
down to a sitting position. I’m exhausted and confused. My mother nods at Ma Temple who approaches cautiously, keeping her hands by her sides as she kneels in front of me. She deposits the Med-Kit on the ground and flicks a small flashlight on, leaning it against the log, angled so she can see me better.

“I’ll keep watch,” Mom says, squeezing my shoulder before taking a few paces away. Ma Temple fumbles with the clasp on the Med-Kit. I soon realize it’s because her hands are shaking. She finally manages to open it and retrieves a syringe and a vial of clear fluid. She holds it up to show me.

“It’s only an anesthetic with a mild sedative. I can work without it, but it will make you more comfortable.” She doesn’t move any closer, waiting for my response.

“It’s okay, honey,” Mom says, as she takes a few paces around the clearing checking our surroundings. “Let Ma Temple help you, and then we’ll get going.”

“Going where?”

“To see an old friend,” Mom says. She smiles at me.

When I nod to Ma Temple, she lets out a breath and unseals an alcohol swab. She moves slowly, looking up into my face periodically to check that I’m comfortable. She begins to cleanse my skin before inserting the needle. I hardly feel it, and soon a warm sensation floods through me, making me feel light all over.

“Better?” she asks as she leans in close, expertly examining each of my hands before turning her attention to the sutures in my arm. Some of them appear to have torn during my tussle with the commander. Ma Temple selects the equipment she needs from the Med-Kit and sets to work removing the damaged stitches and replacing them with her own, glancing at my mother every now and again. For her part, Mom seems to be doing a pretty professional job of patrolling the clearing. Like she’s done this before. I can feel the tug of Ma Temple’s needle against my skin and try to focus anywhere but on my arm. My thoughts are beginning to drift. It must be the affects of the anesthetic. I’m still
not a hundred percent sure about Ma Temple, but I trust my Mom, and she said to let Ma Temple work on me.

Of course, Ma Temple’s hair is perfectly French-braided around the crown of her head. I notice this as she bends over the Med-Kit. She unwraps some more alcohol swabs, a lot more, and rubs them carefully over each of my fingers and around each wrist. “I don’t think anything is broken.” I wince at her touch. “Perhaps a hairline fracture here. It will mend on its own easily enough.”

She sifts through the sticking plasters in the kit and picks out some that are the right size for my worst cuts. When she’s done, she starts to pack up, organizing each item carefully in the small case.

She extinguishes the light and makes that clucking sound in the back of her throat. Mom turns around.

“All done?” she says. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

The injection has taken away most of the physical pain. Now I feel heavy and tired. The scent of the woods reminds me of Ghent, but I’m too tired to even think about him. Something heavy and warm drapes around me and I realize Mom has slipped her cloak over my shoulders again.

“Honey?” She eyes me with concern.

“I’m okay.” My voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

“What did you give her?” my mother asks Ma Temple, her voice laced with anxiety. “We need to explain everything and she can barely stand up.”

“It was only a mild sedative, Sigma. She’s dead on her feet. She needs rest.”

“I wish we had time for that. Can we get her to the transport like this?” My mother props me against her shoulder and tries to lift me. I stagger to her side.

“Wait.” A nasty thought pierces the haze of my brain. “We can’t go back to our quarters. Theta has a guard posted there.”

“Don’t worry, honey. That’s not where we’re going.” My
mother’s breath puffs warm against my cheek. She’s speaking to Ma Temple now. “Help me get her to the path.”

I feel a jolt on my other side as Ma Temple and Mom brace me between them.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“It’s not much farther.” My mother’s words are the last thing I hear before my muscles give out and darkness claims me.

A bump startles me awake, knocking my teeth together. I’m curled up in a snug space pressed against someone’s side. Something warm and soft has been draped over my legs. The person beside me is massaging my arms in gentle comforting strokes. Everything’s so warm and soft. I must be dreaming. The jostling increases. I force my eyes open to relative darkness. The first thing I see is my mother’s concerned expression. I’m curled against her side in the back of an electric vehicle.

“Are you okay?” Her arm is around my shoulders. I can make out the back of Ma Temple’s French braid in the front passenger seat.

“Everything good back there?” The driver’s voice is familiar too. Private Upsilon.

I press my knuckles against my temple. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll explain when we get there.” My mother rubs my arm again.

In contrast to Ma Temple’s rigid posture, Upsilon’s shoulders are relaxed. I try to figure out where we are, but it’s difficult to see much from the back, particularly at night. The lights of the housing block flicker dimly to our right, but we’re heading away from them.

“Kill the lights,” Ma Temple says, leaning toward Upsilon.

Upsilon presses a button in the front panel to extinguish the headlights. My mother leans back and reties her ponytail at the nape of her neck, gathering the stray strands together in the process. The vehicle slows as we drive on in near-darkness. We approach a dimly lit single-story building made of pale cream stone that glints in the moonlight. I’ve never seen it before but I know what it is. The Elders’ private quarters. No one comes here without an invitation, and invitations are rare from what I understand. Upsilon pulls around to the side and stops beside a
recessed opening in the exterior wall.

“Everything will be fine, Omega.” Mom pats my wrist as Upsilon and Ma Temple swing their doors open and glide from their seats into the darkness. Mom guides me by the arm and Upsilon steadies me once I’m outside the vehicle. I’m still a little woozy.

The air is rich with the scent of gardenias. The same fragrance I recall from when Omicron stopped Theta interrogating me at the Nest. That seems like a lifetime ago. I lurch to the side and Upsilon grabs for me while Ma Temple snaps on a flashlight. Upsilon braces me with an arm around my waist before my mother pushes her away and guides me forward. I notice in the flashlight beam that my mother’s skin is a little darker than when she left, as if she’s been out in the sun, not in a retreat. I try to speak, but my mother shushes me, pointing at a recessed door ahead of us.