Inside the Palisade (18 page)

Ma Temple speaks again, hesitantly, as if the words are being pulled from her against her will. “Few people know about the Bank. Most of the Med-Techs don’t even know where the genetic material comes from. They send a requisition when they need it. In recent generations, we’ve had some problems. We think it’s because the stored genetic material eventually degrades. This has led to unsuccessful implantations and abnormalities.”

“That’s why the population has stopped growing?” I ask.

My mother speaks up, and this time her words make a horrible kind of sense. “We’re dying out, and it’s not only genetic material. We don’t have enough left in the stores from the days before the palisade. Some of it we can replace ourselves but a lot will soon be gone for good. We need to take steps.”

Omicron raises a hand. She looks tired. I hadn’t noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes earlier. But despite the fatigue in her face, I can see the resemblance to my mother: the green eyes with high arched brows, and the olive skin.

Omicron motions for my mother to sit back down as she raises the rim of her glass to her lips. The room descends into silence while we wait for her to drink. When she replaces the glass on the bench, she says, “It’s obvious we won’t solve the shortages today, and we have more pressing matters to discuss. Suffice to say, through my daughter’s efforts and those of some others I cannot yet name, we know enough about the outside to believe it’s more than a wasteland.”

“But I didn’t find it, Mother,” my mom addresses Omicron, her tone dripping with defeat. “I still haven’t found any trace of the sanctuary.”

Ma Temple huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “That’s
because it doesn’t exist.”

My mother ignores her and continues speaking to Omicron. “I didn’t get any farther than the stream before you called me back.”

“It’s true?” I turn to Mom. “You were outside this week?”

“She only did as I requested,” Omicron says as she glances at Delta. “I had a feeling we would be needing more information about the outside sooner rather than later.”

A muscle twitches in Delta’s jaw, reminding me again of her son. My heart squeezes at the thought of him.

“Omega, you need to know the rest,” my mother says. “Then you can decide if you want to help us.”

Help them? Delta remains silent, tears dripping from her eyes. She doesn’t wipe them away. Omicron places a hand to her cheek, and Delta drops her head, letting the tears splash to the floor, absorbing into the carpet. Ma Temple clears her throat before turning her attention back to me. My mother is silent at my side as Ma Temple speaks again. “Omega, you know that we can genetically engineer a child for certain physical characteristics: eye color, hair color, and the like?”

“That’s why you couldn’t do anything about my eyes. It was too late to control for the mutation.”

Her next words tumble out in a rush. “You have to understand, we’re not proud of what we’ve done.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“We can create male children. We
have
created male children.”

“You mean like Delta and Epsie did?” I ask.

“That was an accident. We do it on purpose.” Ma Temple evades my gaze.

“Why? If you create male children, where are they?” And suddenly I understand. “They’re in the Bank, aren’t they? You use them for new genetic material?”

Nobody answers.

“How could you?” I say. “You’re using them, like breeding
stock!”

When Ma Temple responds, her voice is hoarse. “We only make as many as we need. We keep them safe and comfortable. We wouldn’t have done it if there was any other way.”

“And it has created some unexpected opportunities,” Omicron says as she leans over to brush away Delta’s tears. Not for the first time, I wonder why Delta is here. The others, I can understand. They’re on some crazy mission to break outside the palisade and reintroduce
demen
into the population. They’re all in this together. But Delta…

And then Commander Theta’s words replay in my mind.

Neither of us got what we wanted.

I wanted Ghent safe, and Theta wanted him dead, but
neither of us got what we wanted.

You won’t be the one having his babies now.

I won’t be the one, but
someone
will. Some other girl will use his genetic material to breed our species.

The realization sends shock waves through me.

Ghent’s alive!

He’s in the Bank.

That’s why Delta’s here.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask, afraid I already know the answer.

With a derisive snort at Ma Temple, Delta turns to me. When she speaks, her voice is cold steel. “My son trusts you. We need you to get him away from that hateful place.”

As I glance out Omicron’s window, I notice the light beginning to fade. We’ve been here for almost a full day: Omicron, my mother and I. We talked for a while and then my mother encouraged me to get some sleep for the journey ahead. I’ve done my best to nap, but I’m too keyed up. My mother is in Omicron’s bedchamber watching over her now. I hope I see my grandmother again before we have to leave. It isn’t every day you discover a long lost relative, and that she’s an Elder to boot.

They told me the story of our family. When she was younger than I am now, only about seven hundred weeks, Omicron discovered she had the rarest of all dual Callings, one that had never been heard of before, or since: Elder and motherhood. She was forced to confide in the Elders of her own time who authorized her to raise a child before she joined their ranks. Omicron says it gave her a unique perspective when she took up her duties as an Elder. She truly understood the fabric of the society, having been a mother herself.

But part of the bargain with her own Elders was that she had to conceal her identity and hide away from her family and friends when she joined their order. When my mother took up with Theta, Omicron believed that her mothering duties were complete. She removed herself from the public eye and took up residence with the Elders. Her contact with my mother was severed. Until Mom ventured outside the wall. Omicron blamed herself for what happened. She felt she should have known what my mother would do, worried that she had injected some of those ideas into Sigma’s mind herself: the idea that our society couldn’t sustain itself, that there was more outside we needed to find.

Omicron intervened to authorize my birth, and she watched quietly to make sure Mom and I were safe as I grew up. She also
had her suspicions about Delta and Epsie. She didn’t want to pry in case she made it dangerous for them, but when Epsie was admitted to the Clinic, Omicron had an uneasy feeling. That’s when she asked my mother to resume her explorations outside the wall. Omicron needed greater knowledge of the outside so she could offer assistance to Delta and Epsie if it came to that. Unfortunately, it did.

After Ghent turned himself in, Delta had begged Ma Temple to save him. Like her daughter, Ma Temple was affected by Ghent’s bravery and Delta’s obvious devotion to him. She pretended to go along with Commander Theta’s plan to fake Ghent’s execution and spirit him away to the Bank for breeding, but she also contacted Omicron who called on my mom to help.

So that’s where we are now. Everyone should be in place for tonight’s expedition. Ma Temple has spent the day at the Bank preparing to fake Ghent’s post-operative infection and subsequent “real” death. Upsilon should be on standby with the vehicle after returning Delta to the Clinic. Delta’s cover story is that Upsilon escorted her to her quarters to collect some things for Epsie and then returned her to the Clinic.

Outside the window, a small clutch of bats screeches as they pitch into the sky, wings outstretched. I examine my new clothes. A black outfit, from head to toe, like my mother’s. Rubber-soled shoes, lightweight and sturdy. We look like twins.

“Ready, Omega?” Mom’s voice startles me as she enters from Omicron’s bedchamber. There are dark hollows under her eyes, and I wonder how much rest she’s had today.

“Where’s Omicron?” I ask, still not quite ready to call her Grandmother.

She motions at the door. “She’s getting up now. Don’t worry, honey. She’ll say goodbye before we leave. Did you get enough sleep? It may be a while before we can rest again.” She scrutinizes my face. “Your eyes are bloodshot.”

“Yours, too.”

She grimaces. “I suppose it’s not easy to sleep with all of this going on.”

“No, it’s not.” Omicron’s voice crackles from the doorway. We both turn to her. “But you will both do me proud regardless.”

The bats outside shriek as the sun disappears beneath the horizon.

“It’s time,” Mom says, as she moves to the entryway to check our bags. “Throw me your cloak, Omega.” I give it to her, and she threads it through the straps of my pack. I tremble at the thought of seeing Ghent again. I can’t believe he’s alive.

Mom crosses the room to Omicron. “I suppose this is goodbye.”

“Never goodbye, my daughter. Only so long.” She wraps her arms around Mom and even though Mom stands much taller than she does, she looks like a small child. “Come here, my granddaughter.” Omicron beckons me, and I join the embrace. The Elder’s arms are surprisingly strong, infusing me with confidence that this might work. Mom breaks away and wipes her palm over her face. I back away too and look at both of them. I can’t yet get my mind around the fact that this is my family.

Mom goes to the door and grabs the two packs, handing one to me. “Upsilon should be here any moment.”

As if Mom’s words conjured her, the door opens and the Protector hurries inside. “All good here?”

“Yes, Private,” Omicron says as she limps to the bench where she left her cane earlier. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“It’s my pleasure. I care about the world my daughters grow up in.” Upsilon has a dual Calling? Protector and motherhood?

My mother casts a final glance at Omicron who raises a hand to her heart before she speaks. “My children, you are doing something brave and important. I hope you find sanctuary, and happiness.”

Mom gathers my elbow and escorts me through the door, with Upsilon following. As the door closes, I wonder if I hear a
sob from Omicron’s quarters, but I can’t see with the two women behind me. They shepherd me to the entrance where Upsilon’s vehicle is parked. The sun has set, and it’s difficult to see where we are. The scent of gardenias is strong, but all I can see is a paved pathway and some boulders. The shriek of the bats is more distant now.

After checking that no one is around, Upsilon helps us both into the back seat with our packs before slipping into the driver’s seat herself. “The tinted windows will help some, but you both should keep your heads down.” Mom nestles down beside me, pressing my head into the seat and covering us both with one of the dark cloaks. The engine hums to life.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Mom peers out the back window as Upsilon pulls in behind the only available cover, a small copse of barren trees. It’s not a great hiding place, but we won’t be here long, at least if all goes to plan. We’re somewhere near the eastern boundary of the palisade, away from all the main buildings. The ground is flat with rocks scattered in small piles here and there. There’s hardly any grass. It’s an area no one comes to visit. There’s no reason. Even if they did, there’s nothing to see. This place is well hidden in plain sight.

“I scoped it out earlier,” Upsilon says from the driver’s seat. “There’s a steel panel in the ground right here. It leads down to the Bank’s back entrance.”

I know from our planning session that the Bank is underground. It gives me the creeps to think of all those boys and men stored away down there like produce. As well as the poor women who give birth to them. They take a vow of secrecy and dedicate their lives to male childbearing in solitude. Their families are told they’re dead. It’s all happening somewhere right here, beneath our feet.

“How far down is it?” I ask.

“I’m not exactly sure, but not too far,” my mother says. “The morgue is near the exit. Ma Temple will be waiting for us there.”

The morgue.
I shudder. “Where do they take them, the men, after they die?”

“Cremation pit. Not far from here.” Upsilon points to the south. “Ashes are buried where they won’t be found.

I start to hyperventilate.

“Honey?” My mother turns to me, her brow creased. “Here, put your head between your knees.” She eases my neck forward.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Upsilon opens her door and slides out, allowing a burst of
fresh air to bathe the vehicle’s interior. That helps a bit. When I get out of the car, Mom is right behind me. She leaves our packs inside the vehicle.

“I know this is scary, Omega. Are you sure you can do this?” Mom sounds really worried. I have to get myself together.

“It’s so horrible, Mom. What they’re doing here.”

“Yes, it is.”

A dog barks in the far distance, setting off a round of howling. We don’t keep a lot of pets around here. It’s too many unnecessary mouths to feed, but the school has some cats and dogs for the younger kids to play with. They’ve probably left the dogs out in the yard this evening. They do that on most summer nights.

“All clear.” I hadn’t realized until she spoke that Upsilon had moved away from us to check the area. Metal scrapes against metal as she drops to her knees and begins to shove against the panel flat on the ground. The opening to the Bank. My mother touches my cheek before moving to help her. I follow. The panel is large – about five feet by four. It’s heavy, but we manage to move it, exposing a keypad underneath beside a large grate. Upsilon punches in a code and the grate slides open to expose a metal staircase leading down into the facility. Mom and I are going in while Upsilon stands guard.

“Ready?” Upsilon asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” Mom says. “Omega?”

I nod. Mom slips a tiny flashlight out of her sleeve and snaps it on, illuminating the staircase. “I’ll go first. If anything happens to me, come back to Upsilon. She’ll get you safely away.”