by T. C. Edge
“But,” she continues, “you’d have gotten the message anyway. At least the Court saw fit to tell me about it first. Apparently they do have some manners.”
“Who came?” I ask.
“No one. Just a postal drone with a message, stamped with the seal of the Court. They’re clearly aware that we have no interface here for video and holographic communication. And that’s to say nothing about the fact that they know where you two live…”
“Oh yeah,” I mumble. “I told Deputy Burns yesterday. He asked, I couldn’t have said nothing.”
“Yes, I understand that. It’s just unfortunate. I don’t want this place coming under any scrutiny. Their thoughts on orphans are quite clear, as you well know.”
I am aware. The Court have little interest in charity for the most part. If someone isn’t able to offer value in some way or another to society, they’re deemed pointless. Occasionally, they’ll send out teams to trawl the northern quarter for Disposables if they become too much of a nuisance. When they’re caught, they’re never seen again.
“Honestly, I don’t particularly like the idea of you two going there,” she adds. “It’s just another public relations device. You’re being used as pawns in a game, and it’s not on.”
“Well, that’s a negative way of looking at it, Brenda,” says Tess.
I gulp. Perhaps now isn’t the time to use her first name. That whiskey is clearly giving her courage.
“I actually feel quite proud and privileged,” she continues. “Not many are invited in…”
“Yes, exactly. Not many are, because not many are considered worthy. We’re people just like they are, my dear, and yet they look down upon us as little more than animals. And why? Superior intellect? Superior physical abilities and senses. None of that has anything to do with being human.”
I fear she might go off on one of her rants. From time to time, she’ll let off some steam by rambling on against the ‘terrible doctrine’ of the Consortium, letting out a few of those swear words she doesn’t like to hear anyone else use in the process.
These days, I’ve learned to tune most of it out. And it’s almost always after she’s had one too many whiskeys.
Today, though, her eyes remain clear and her words aren’t slurring one bit. She really means this one.
“It sounds like you don’t want us to go?” I ask calmly.
Her eyes come to mine, and stare at me for a moment. I see the lightest shaking of her head, then a whisper drifts from her mouth.
“I don’t…”
She scoops up another cigarette and lights up. After a fresh gulp of whiskey she reacquires her composure and speaks again.
“But you will go,” she says, a vibe of deflation in her voice. “If they want you to go, there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Just…make sure you’re careful with what you say. And what you think.”
Those words call an end to the meeting. We’re dismissed, and return to our room, before going down to catch the end of dinner once the youngsters have finished up.
And finding Drum there, the three of us enjoy a quiet dinner, free from harassment and chattering children.
It won’t last long.
As soon as we’ve been to Inner Haven, they’ll have a hell of a lot more questions for us.
I guess I’d better enjoy this quiet time while I can.
8
The following morning, Tess and I wait anxiously for the arrival of Deputy Burns’s liaison. Given the company he keeps, we expect a boring old Savant to come wandering through the door. I can’t imagine a worse person to spend the morning with.
When the door knocks, however, and we open it up wide, we’re surprised to see a beautiful young woman appear before us, perhaps only in her early twenties. I immediately scan the look in her eyes, and inspect the smile on her face, and conclude that the emotion in her expression is real.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice velvety and sweet. “My name is Sophie Winchester. You must be Brie and Tess. Now, don’t tell me, you’re Brie, and you’re Tess…”
She looks at me first, and then to my best friend.
“That’s right,” says Tess.
Sophie beams. “I was told that Brie had hair like mine,” she says.
I look at hers, beautifully cut and styled in long brown waves, and shining under the light above, and consider the comparison completely unfavourable. For her, that is.
Sure, my hair is the same colour, or thereabouts. But that’s about where the similarities end.
I tell her as much, and she simply says cryptically: “Well, we’ll see how it turns out later.”
Stepping into the reception hall of the academy, I see her nose crinkle at the smell and her eyes dart about the place with a measure of pity. I feel the urge to apologise for the stench. This woman appears to be very well kept.
Adorning her slender body, a dress of light blue hangs, on top of which is a fashionable jacket of identical colour. I suspect she must be fairly cold, dressed so sparsely, but she offers no sign that she is.
“So, this is where you live?” she asks, looking back to us.
“Yup,” says Tess, a little bluntly. “This is home.”
“It’s, um,” says Sophie, clearly trying to find something nice to say. “Well, um, it’s…”
“A dump,” says Tess. “You can say it, don’t worry. But we’re used to it by now.”
Sophie lets out a little breath.
“Well, Inner Haven will be quite the shock to you then,” she says. “Now, I’ve been sent here today to get you clothed and briefed. So, shall we?”
“Sure, lead the way,” I say.
Parked outside of the academy, we find a sleek, light grey transport, curved from head to toe and deliciously streamlined. It looks pristine, something that you can rarely say about the vehicles that litter the streets around here. After a day or two in the smog and mist, few vehicles remain clean.
This one, though, is obviously from Inner Haven, closed off from the elements. Inside, it’s nicely furnished and comfortable, fitted with four white seats that face each other in the back. The front, meanwhile, consists of nothing but an electronic interface, with no facility for an actual person to drive.
“Take us to the southern quarter, Liberty Row,” says Sophie.
Immediately, the vehicle comes to life, rumbling silently beneath us. Only rarely have I stepped foot in a transport of any kind. Mostly, I get around on foot or by use of the Conveyor Line.
Somehow, I don’t particularly like the sensation of being driven by a computer. I sit uncomfortably for the first few minutes as the car sweeps onto the street, cruising in and out of traffic and avoiding pedestrians with great precision and skill. Computers are smart these days.
Tess, on the other hand, appears to enjoy the ride.
“Is this your car, Sophie?” she asks.
“Oh no, this is a government car, used for official business. We have one, but not as nice as this.”
“We?”
“Oh, my husband and I. He’s a Hawk.”
“A Hawk? And…what are you?”
“Tess!” I say, cutting in. “Don’t be rude.”
“I’m not being rude,” she says defensively. “I’m just asking a question.”
Sophie laughs. “It’s quite alright, really. Actually, I’m not an Enhanced at all. I’m an Unenhanced, just like you.”
“What the…really?”
“Yes indeed. I was scouted by the Council of Matrimony and given an opportunity to ‘marry up’, so to speak. That was three years ago now. I’ve lived in Inner Haven ever since.”
Tess seems overly surprised by the news, but it’s not completely alien to hear of such things. The Enhanced only have so many members, and frankly the risk of ‘inbreeding’ is far too high for them to only marry and procreate within their own ranks.
As such, they send scouts out to find suitable people – mostly women, given the higher number of male Enhanced – to marry their o
wn members and diversify their bloodlines. Naturally, to be selected you have to be a fairly impressive person.
I suspect that Sophie’s beauty had some part in it, but it’s more likely that she’s very smart too. Frankly, only intelligent people are considered suitable, while other qualities deemed important by the Court are also beneficial. A willingness to be compliant, and a fierce ambition to step up, and conform, to a higher class, are two such qualities.
Above all, however, is the ability to bear children who will themselves become members of the Enhanced. Given how not all children carry the unique gifts of their parents, that one’s something of a deal-breaker.
With that in mind, I ask Sophie whether she has any kids of her own.
“A baby boy, yes,” she says proudly. “He’s showing excellent signs that he’ll be a Hawk, like his father.”
Lucky for her. If he didn’t, she’d most likely be relegated right back down to our ranks, whether her husband likes it or not.
As the journey continues, I begin to forget that the car is driving itself, and spend my time grilling Sophie on her life in Inner Haven. As far as I know, members of the Enhanced can only marry members of the same type, or members of the Unenhanced deemed worthy. So, Hawks can marry Hawks, for example, but couldn’t hook up with a Dasher or a Bat, who have amazing hearing.
This, apparently, is to prevent the illegal breeding of ‘hybrids’, genetic mutants who may carry several gifts and abilities.
“Oh yes, they hate any unsanctioned hybrid children,” says Sophie. “Above all, it’s the one thing that’s not allowed.”
“Why’s that?” asks Tess.
“Well, it’s not for me to say…” mumbles Sophie.
“And what do you mean by ‘unsanctioned’,” I ask. “So, as long as the breeding of hybrids is controlled, it’s OK?”
“Let’s change the subject, shall we, ladies?” says Sophie briskly. “We’re venturing into the territory of rumours, and I don’t like to gossip.”
Funny that. She looks to be the exact sort of person who’d love to gossip.
Soon enough, the car is hurtling towards Liberty Row, and Sophie is preparing to step out. She probably hasn’t had dealings with two curious girls like Tess and me for a long while, and given her position as an adopted member of the Enhanced, she knows she has to bite her tongue and not add to the rumours that spread through the city streets.
Personally, I don’t think I could ever ‘marry up’ as she’s done. They all seem like robots to me, people running on tracks like the Conveyor Line. All just doing their tasks, getting their jobs done, without asking questions or challenging the system.
From down here, that’s all fine. We can whisper in quiet corners and moan and groan about the Court and the Consortium, and all the Savants who live and rule at the core of the city. But in Inner Haven, I doubt any such grumbling exists.
How boring it must be…
We step onto Liberty Row, not far south of Culture Corner, and Sophie leads us towards a shop called ‘The Inner Circle’. Inside, the place is dressed up with fine garments and clothes: dresses and jackets and suits and hats and all manner of other items. What strikes me above all, however, is that they’re all light blue, the same colour as the clothes Sophie is currently wearing.
“Not exactly a rainbow in here is it?” remarks Tess, looking unimpressed.
“Well it wouldn’t be, would it,” says Sophie. “Sky blue is the colour of all Unenhanced invited to live in Inner Haven.”
“Ah…I get it. It’s a way of determining social rank, right?” I ask.
“Well, yes, I suppose that’s right,” says Sophie. “This shop specialises in outfitting women, in particular, who are to ‘marry up’. And if you’re to visit Inner Haven, even for a day, you’ll need to be wearing the right colour.”
I see Tess rolling her eyes, and feel a giggle rise up through me. Sophie doesn’t look impressed, but pushes on without drawing attention to it.
Instead, she sets about speaking with the shop assistant, who quickly comes rushing from the back.
“We need to set these two girls up in some fine dresses,” says Sophie.
“Oh, congratulations,” says the shop assistant, turning to us. “When are the big days?”
“Oh no, these two aren’t getting married,” laughs Sophie. “They’re merely visiting Inner Haven for the day.”
I don’t enjoy the tone of her voice. It sounds like she’s looking down on us. Or perhaps it’s just my own insecurity. I can’t really tell.
“OK, well one day perhaps you’ll get lucky,” says the assistant. “Come on girls, let’s get started.”
Lucky. It’s not the word I’d use.
The next couple of hours are simply torturous. When you grow up dressed in hand-me-downs and rags, shopping in a fine outlet such as this is hardly second nature. In fact, shopping anywhere would make me a bit uncomfortable.
And yet both Tess and I are subjected to a dozen variations of outfits, stripped down and dressed up over and over again. The smile on Sophie’s face suggests she’s loving this, like we’re her personal play dolls. This is probably a rare bit of fun for her, given the mundane life she must lead.
At the start, our opinions are asked for. After both Tess and I show an apparent lack and understanding of ‘style’, however, Sophie and the shop assistant begin making the decisions themselves.
Eventually, after much deliberation, they come to a decision, and the shop assistant sets about wrapping up two identical dresses for purchase.
“You do realise we have no money,” says Tess.
“Of course. It’s all taken care of, don’t worry.”
I choose not to look at the price tag to stop me from throwing up.
After we’re done in the shop, Sophie leads us down the road to a beauty parlour. I know the women who parade around Culture Corner and the more expensive districts like to get all made up and looking pretty, but that’s never been my world.
I guess I’m more comfortable in overalls and a pair of sturdy work boots.
Still, my early discomfort fades away as a team of beauty specialists begin working on my hair and face and nails, scrubbing and cutting and massaging me as I lie back in a chair and stare at the ceiling.
Sophie hovers about, pointing things out and giving the odd order. The women all acquiesce to anything she says, deferring to her higher standing if not her knowledge and expertise of beauty therapies. Any woman who has been known to marry up is certainly looked upon as special among our own class. Frankly, I just find her quite pretentious.
Once they’re all done, the chair tilts back up and I look at myself in the mirror.
The change is astonishing, my hair just as beautiful as Sophie’s now, my skin glowing, my hazel eyes popping. Everything has been trimmed and neatened up, the contours of my face clearer and more defined than ever before.
I look over at Tess, and see the same transformation. She’s strikingly beautiful, enough to give Sophie a good run for her money. For a few moments, we stare at each other, as Sophie exclaims proudly: “You look positively stunning, ladies!”
I hate to admit it, but part of me agrees.
“Well girls, come on, what do you think?!”
If it wasn’t for the many beauty therapists hovering around, longingly looking for approval, I’d probably just shrug and try to keep my reserve. However, I can’t deny the job they’ve done, even if I do look completely alien to my own eyes.
“Brilliant,” I say. “Thank you so much.”
Tess offers up some similar compliment. More than me, she seems quite taken by her new look, her eyes fixed to her reflection and refusing to look away.
“Well, you’ll fit in perfectly in Inner Haven looking like that,” says Sophie. “Just try to make sure you don’t mess up your hair too much tonight. I’ll be able to touch it up tomorrow morning for you, but I can’t work miracles.” She turns to the therapists and distributes some money between them. “Tha
nk you, ladies, for your fine work. I’ll see you again soon.”
As we leave the parlour, I ask her whether she comes down here a lot, given her comment to the women.
“Oh yes, my main role is to attend to women who are to marry a member of the Enhanced. Sometimes they need style and beauty tips, and to learn etiquette and such things.”
“Why do they care about style and beauty over there?” I ask. “If you don’t have emotion, what does it matter?”
“Well, that’s an interesting point, Brie. It’s true that the Savants are generally quite unemotional, but that’s not necessarily true of the rest of the Enhanced. And, the Savants still consider beauty to be beneficial if it means making the Enhanced happy.”
“Sounds a bit superficial to me.”
“It is, but there’s nothing wrong with that. You should embrace your beauty, Brie, and not question it. There’s nothing wrong with looking good if it makes you feel good too.”
I can’t tell, at this point, if I’m just choosing to question her for the sake of it. There’s just something about her that grates on me, this air of superiority that she probably doesn’t even realise she carries around with her.
Then again, can I blame her for that? If you’re specifically chosen to marry into the ranks of the Enhanced, you’re going to feel pretty special, right?
The remainder of the afternoon involves a briefing about etiquette and the format of the following day’s events. We take up position in a little café, nestled in the corner of a quiet courtyard in one of the more prosperous parts of Outer Haven.
There, Sophie gives us an extensive run down of our expected behaviours, things that anyone with common sense should naturally do anyway. Yet, given how we’re ‘nothing but Unenhanced’, the Court have seen fit to clarify the most basic of conducts and manners.
Personally, I find it insulting.
“Yes, I know it’s all rather basic stuff,” remarks Sophie, “but it’s my role to take you through it regardless.”
I yawn, sit back, and zone out until she has something more interesting to say.
That comes when she tells us how the ceremony will go.