Caim

by T. S. Simons

  Tadhg had sent us encrypted messages along the way. While the scientists on Auckland had openly named us, they hadn't spotted our vessel, thanks to Tadhg's minor adjustments to their satellite passes, which had gone undetected. There had been surveillance cameras in the facility, and the footage shared. Tadhg had also intercepted radio traffic to each community, asking each to watch for us. None had and reported as much. As no one on Auckland had died in the explosion and the guard had been recovered unharmed, the manic stream of communications had slowed by the time we neared home, making us feel almost safe. We were comforted by the fact that Tadhg and Jakob had targeted Auckland with their missile systems, something we could not do from Lewis.

  'I need to train someone else on the system,' Luca noted several days before we arrived home. 'Just in case something ever happened to me, or Ils, we need to implement a back-up plan.'

  Luca was larger than life. I couldn't see any reason he wouldn't live to be ninety. But took the point.

  'I'm happy to learn,' I offered, 'but perhaps you should also teach someone who doesn't live in Roseglen? Just in case.'

  Illy agreed. 'The likelihood of us ever needing to use the systems is minimal. But we have them, so it makes sense for others to know how to use them.'

  'Who will you ask?' Cam queried. 'Someone with military knowledge? You are fairly few and far between. I don't know anyone other than Jake.'

  'Agreed. But no. Military training isn't essential. It is quite simple. Likely Aidan could do it.'

  'But would he?' Illy questioned. 'He is a fairly gentle soul.'

  'Hamish?' suggested Luca. 'He lives in Garynahine.'

  'You don't think his Declaration of Geneva won't affect him?' Cam replied. 'Sorcha certainly takes the part about maintaining the utmost respect for human life seriously.'

  'Is that like the Hippocratic Oath?' Luca asked.

  'It is. The Hippocratic Oath sets out the historical role of the profession. In Australia, the Declaration of Geneva was adopted years ago as the values and standards of the profession.'

  'What do they take in the UK?'

  'I'm not sure,' Cam admitted. 'I'm just suggesting that Hamish may have issues with targeting another community with ballistic missiles. Perhaps one of the hunters is a better choice.'

  'Leave it with me. I'll find someone.'

  Sleeping in our bed proved impossible once we arrived home. Children all over us twenty-four hours a day, hanging off our legs, on our laps at mealtimes, and pleading to come to work with us. I had grown used to just the two of us, and these little people in my bed affected my sleep. But it was temporary. They had missed us as much as we had them. But when I woke on the third morning with a child curled up in my armpit, and another wedged between Cam and me, my stiff neck and sore back was beginning to think they could love us during waking hours only.

  After sleeping on a yacht, I missed the tranquillity of the ocean, that gentle drifting motion, the wind blowing through the window, and the scent of salt and surf. Here, life was so noisy. Chickens clucking around in the morning, noises from adjoining houses or a blanket of chatter outside our door each morning. Cam, proving himself far more tolerant, took Louis and Thorsten to work with him in the greenhouses, leaving the girls with me. We had missed Louis' tenth birthday in our absence, and being permitted to miss school was the best gift ever. By the third day, having them underfoot all day meant I could get nothing done, so I sent them to school to accompany Illy on her rounds.

  'Have you decided what to do?' I asked Sorcha, meeting her on my way to Illy's house.

  'Not really,' she admitted after a pause. 'But I can't help but feel like I need to try. Just to see what happens. Illy says the sample is likely fine, so we have some time.'

  'This isn't like trying to bake a cake,' I said jokingly. 'Success is pretty permanent.'

  'It isn't successful baking I am worried about. What if I get emotionally invested in this, and it is unsuccessful? I'm forty next year.'

  'If you want this, you should try. Have you asked Jorja? She is an IVF specialist.'

  'Actually, I had forgotten,' Sorcha admitted. 'We just use her as part of the general med team. We are rostered on different days, so I don't see her much.'

  'Deliberately?'

  'Maybe. Do you think she will help me?'

  'I will ask,' Illy's crisp voice interjected from behind me.

  I smirked at the interruption. No one refused Illy when she wanted something. Not even Luca or Sorcha. In fact, the only people immune to Illy were her children. Those girls were stubborn, determined, and opinionated. Bloody hard work, as Cam secretly described them.

  'I know enough to realise that it is unlikely to be successful,' Sorcha admitted. 'The age of the sample, my age. And if it doesn't work, then that is okay. At least I know I tried. But not yet. I'm not quite ready to go through that all over again.'

  'Jorja is very good at what she does,' Illy said. 'If anyone can make it work, it is her. She was chosen for a reason. Everyone chosen to be on Clava or Auckland excels in their field. They had a choice, you know. They chose the best.'

  'Well, they chose you.'

  In our absence, Jorja and Bridget had left Aidan's farm and moved to the end of our valley. They weren't trusted, but no one made their lives difficult either. Bridget shared the communications load with Aidan, although our communications were limited now. Primarily to Newgrange and the few other communities who stayed in contact like Orkney and the Shetlands. Di spoke to her cousin Kendra on Kiewa once a month, after they had set up a radio following Cam and Di's visit many years ago and learning about the many other communities. We occasionally heard news from August or Bellcamp, but the contact was lessening as the years passed. After our trip to Auckland, I had no doubt messages would be non-existent.

  'How are they?' I asked Sorcha cautiously. I should visit, but honestly, I couldn't bear seeing their daughters, the image of Kat still fresh in my mind. They looked so much like my own, so much like Kat, their biological mother.

  'They are fine. They accept living here is hard for you. Bridget asked me if they should leave. Is that what you want?'

  Sorcha and Illy watched me. I had considered it many times. How much easier it would be not to have the reminder of my sister's captivity and torture in my face. But Scarlett and Ruby were my nieces. They were loved, and that was the best I could ask for.

  'No.' I admitted. 'I'm don't think I will ever be ready to see them or form a relationship with the girls. But I am glad that part of Katrin survives. Even if it is not how I wanted it to happen.'

  'Bridget has offered to teach at the school here when you are ready. Free Di up to go back to horticulture.'

  The logical part of my brain recognised this as an excellent solution. Cam, Jamie, and Fraser were struggling with the workload, and Di was a valuable asset. The school itself was closer to Bridget's home, and I suspected she would be an excellent teacher. While I wasn't ready for Scarlett and Ruby to socialise with Louis, Kat, Thorsten and Xanthe, I had little choice.

  'It is fine. That is a good idea. Cam would love to have Di back.'

  'Good.' Illy climbed up onto her cart, empty, ready for the day's trade. 'We are headed there first. You can tell Bridget yourself.'

  'Your house is nearly finished!' I called across the garden as we approached, more to break the ice than to engage in meaningful conversation.

  'Ahh, hello! Wonderful to see you both home! Did you find what you were looking for?' Jorja asked, not looking up from the garden bed she was digging.

  Illy was off the cart and had rounded on her before it had even come to a complete stop.

  'You knew she was there!'

  'No! I just meant…'

  Illy's hand on her throat and Jorja's face turning purple made her rapidly revise her story.

  'Alright, I knew!' she gasped as Illy's eyes, black as thunder, glinted dangerously despite only coming up to Jorja's shoulder.

&nb
sp; 'Tell us everything,' Illy growled menacingly and relaxed her grip slightly, gesturing with her free hand towards the low rock wall edging the garden.

  'I was in charge of the reproductive program,' Jorja admitted. 'For both communities.'

  'From the beginning?' Illy snarled.

  'Yes. But when I met Freyja on Clava, I didn't know about the forced partnerships. That wasn't a lie.'

  Taking one look at Illy with her eyebrows raised and eyes glinting, Jorja appealed to me.

  'Bridget and I were senior officials. They wouldn't let you stay with just anyone. You needed to be tested. Your skills and your loyalty. Both to each other and the program. There were empty houses on Clava, yet you never questioned why you were placed with us?'

  I shrugged. We hadn't. We had been grateful for Ashton accepting us and accommodating us, especially with the gruesome news we presented him at our first meeting. We were still shellshocked ourselves. It was also still new between Cam and me; we were just desperate to be together. We didn't mind where. I caught the glimmer of mischief in Illy's eyes. She remembered reading the reports about Cam and I being intimate in public. I tried not to blush, knowing that Jorja and Bridget would also have been briefed on our extra-curricular activities.

  'We loved spending time with you. It was us who vouched for you, wanted you to stay. That was genuine.'

  'When did you learn? About the forced breeding?' I asked, reeling from the revelation.

  'We were brought into the inner circle after the Nexus came online, after we had returned to Auckland. They had lost several key players by then, so they briefed us earlier than scheduled. To allow for potential fallout, I guess.'

  'Me?' Illy asked coolly. She had known Jorja and Bridget on Auckland, although not well. I knew without a doubt that her loyalties lay with me now.

  'You and Magali. Both of you defecting was a monumental blow to their plans. They earmarked you to play key roles, and being women yourselves, they thought you would both want to assist other women in having children.'

  'Their plans?' Illy asked. 'Who are they?'

  'Ashton, Angus and Derek. The three of them were behind it all.'

  'Derek? That worm?'

  'That worm was a highly renowned genetic engineer. He was top in his field in modifying genomes,' Jorja advised.

  'How did I never know that?' Illy asked incredulously.

  'He was the silent partner, and his skills weren't required until much later. Ashton was known, so he stayed on Auckland. After working as a settlement adviser, Derek went straight to Clava to work as a lab tech, despite being Australian. No one knew. Angus wanted to start out in one of the communities to get a feel for when they would be ready for the next phase—opening the portals to form the Nexus and getting everyone to sign up to the Collective. Once everyone agreed, they would begin selective breeding and later genetic engineering. But they knew it would take quite a few years to be ready.'

  'Hold on,' I interjected. 'You just said that like they are two different things.'

  'Well, that is because they are,' Jorja explained. 'Selective breeding has occurred in some form for hundreds of years—dog or horse breeders choosing animals with certain traits or characteristics so that a particular attribute is enhanced. Royal families marrying off cousins. In this scenario, it meant choosing people with certain genotypes and phenotypes and ensuring they reproduced to ensure those genes survived. But those genes occurred naturally, like me having dark hair. What genetic engineering involves is making a direct change to a person's genome in a laboratory. Editing the genome if you like. Let's say that you were the perfect candidate, but you had the gene for Parkinson's Disease. They could edit your genome by disabling that specific gene.'

  'Holy hell, they are playing God.'

  Jorja shrugged sadly. 'That is why we needed to leave. The problem was, when we found out that part, the girls were less than a year old. We had nowhere to go and didn't want to take babies through the portal. So, we waited as long as we could. But it made us sick. Modifying people. Trying to create the perfect human.'

  I turned to Illy. 'What was your role supposed to be in all of this?'

  'I knew none of this. I bailed well before they told me this part. I was uncomfortable about forcing communities to join the Collective, withholding supplies and basically starving them of resources. That, combined with the surveillance, was enough for me to know that it wasn't anything I wanted to be a part of.'

  'They thought anyone who was a scientist or military would see the importance of it. You were both, so your leaving blindsided them. And I can see the logic, or… at least I could,' Jorja hastened to add. 'They had carefully mapped out characteristics and traits and ensured that only the healthiest specimens were chosen. Of the seven billion people alive, only a fraction of one per cent of the world's population survived. The testing highly detailed. Genome, physical health, skills, and intelligence. Those people chosen to survive were the best of the best, biologically speaking. From my scientific perspective, that made sense. I mean, you wouldn't breed from sickly cows that passed those traits onto calves, would you?'

  I could see the logic. I always could. It wasn't until I met Cam and had Katrin that I saw differing viewpoints with equal clarity.

  'We always knew that our role was to ensure the survival of humanity, and both Bridget and I supported that. What we didn't know was that they had planned to force people to reproduce with each other. We knew that each of us would need to have a child. For Bridge and I, that wasn't a philosophical problem. We wanted children, and we always needed a donor father. We were told that we would be given handpicked genetic material.' Jorja sighed. 'While we would have preferred to choose, we were at their mercy. Unlike you, we couldn't just have children ourselves. We knew that every person here had been carefully chosen to filter out inherited diseases and were highly intelligent. It wasn't quite like playing Russian Roulette.'

  'I can see that,' I confessed. After all, if it hadn't been for Cam, Di and Sorcha wouldn't have Kendra. I also knew what it felt like to be desperate for a child.

  'When did you realise it was my sister who was their biological mother?' I asked, the words choking me.

  Jorja paused and looked at me appraisingly before responding, assessing if I could deal with the truth. A glance at Illy's stormy face was enough to make her relent.

  'I worked in that facility, but mostly in the labs and offices. I am sorry to say, to me, they were just specimens. Cadavers. I never went into those rooms until Bridget and I became suspicious about the girl's parentage. Then I went searching. Looked at the person in the bed. Read the chart and realised who I was looking at. She looked like you and had your surname. I knew about the backup genomes by then, so it all made sense.'

  'She was a living person. So were all the others. Not specimens,' I seethed.

  'I know that… now. But at the time, they were just genetic material. No different from any other lab or facility I have worked in. You tend to be quite detached in medicine. You focus on the illness and the cure, not the person.'

  'You lied to me. You told me you thought they were mine. Why didn't you just tell me she was alive?'

  'I couldn't tell you without admitting I had been part of it. That I could have done something, ended it for her. But that would have made us a target. We would do anything to keep our girls safe. We honestly thought you would work out we were senior when Bridget slipped and told you she was in charge of communications. But you didn't, and we thought we had dodged a bullet.'

  Sitting on the grassy patch beside the new vegetable garden Jorja was planting, I stared out across the vast blue sky. I wasn't sure how I felt about these people—knowing that they had access to my sister for years and did nothing. This woman had played an active role in exploiting her, had likely been the one to harvest her eggs. She had been privy to the most controlling aspects of their plans and hadn't spoken out. When they had arrived here, they had deliberately lied to
me, told me they thought the children were mine. Why? Illy and Magali had left when they learned what the Collective was about. These women had said nothing. But they had children, very young children, which Illy and Magali did not. Was that the deciding factor? Did wanting to protect your children force you to make different decisions?

  'And now?' Illy asked, seeing me conflicted. 'Where are your loyalties now?'

  'Bridge and I just want to raise our children in peace. We have discussed it at length. We like it here, but we will go if you want us to. Since we had the girls, our focus has shifted. We used to live for our careers, the mission, and our roles in the project. But after they were born, we became responsible for these tiny people. We knew our needs came second. Everything we did was about them. That was when we had doubts. But we managed to juggle it, at least for a while. When we worked out their parentage, that was the turning point. The point where we knew we needed to protect these children and protect them from people like us who wanted to manipulate them, control their lives. One day, they will be forced to be part of the program, and the thought of that made us physically ill. We chose to be parents. There was no way off Auckland Island, not with young children. The few vessels there were always off on missions, so we waited. Requested another for a secondment to Clava and waited until it was approved. Then… we just walked out.'

  Illy and I glanced at each other. Many times she and I had spoken about this. How becoming a parent changes your outlook, how the hard and fast logic softens slightly when it is overlaid with the emotion of being responsible for another life.

  'I understand,' I admitted. 'I was focused and logic-driven… until I had Katrin. Then the prism through which I saw the world changed slightly. I can pinpoint the precise moment too. She was asleep in my arms, and I was holding her tiny pink hand in mine. She hadn't been well, cried all night. I was exhausted, yet I realised I was now solely responsible for protecting this person. It was my job to guide her, protect her so that she grew up to become an adult. Give her life experiences. She needed me, and my choices weren't about me anymore.'