“Well, you are not pregnant. Never mind. Better luck next time.” He turned to Zack. “Time to take these, I think.” Dr. Watson handed Zack a small pot which Zack knew contained the same red tablets he had refused the last time and which Sarah had provided him with. He slipped them into his pocket awash with utter relief. He would have stood naked on his head if the doctor had asked him to. But Sarah had become limp, her shoulders curled over into her chest, her head too heavy for her neck. She was devastated. Zack put his arm around her in an effort to comfort her and they moved as one towards the door. “That'll get the job done.” Zack nodded at the doctor as he escorted Sarah through the door. The receptionist watched them leave with one hand on her heart, the other reaching for a tissue. He guided Sarah towards the Refreshments Cafe.
“Never mind, eh. It's not like we put a lot of effort into it yet. It would have been pretty lucky if you were pregnant already.” She nodded in agreement. But he could tell that she didn't agree with him. He knew that her disappointment was raw and deep, cut like a crevasse in the ground. He ordered a couple of drinks from the waiter and once they arrived he pushed one of the yellow drinks towards her. “Here. Why don't you drink some of this? It is a dandelion cooler, and I bet it is nicer than the kale.” This made her smile, but he still knew what she would rather be drinking.
Sarah picked up the glass and sipped at the thick globular liquid. She forced herself to swallow, scrunched her eyes in an effort to tolerate the taste before pushing it away. Zack was yet to touch his, but her response was enough to put him off. He pushed his glass aside and reached across the table, taking Sarah's hands in his own.
“You just don't get it,” she relented. “You don't understand why it's so important. How could you?” She wriggled her fingers until they were free from his and propped her head up in her hands with her elbows resting on the table. “You don't know what it's like not to meet expectations.”
“Everybody knows what that's like. Everybody has their own disappointments.” It didn't take Zack much effort to think about his own. He knew where he had failed to meet expectations. He also knew where he had outright failed. There was no need to elaborate.
“It's not the same. Ten years I've been stuck in here. I have watched woman after woman have a child. You've seen all those coloured outfits running around. Almost none of them were here when we first arrived. The children are a prize. People worked at having them. And what have I done? What have I achieved? I need a way to make my life better. I don't have any other way.”
“We can try again.” Even as he said the words he couldn't quite believe he was offering to actively try for a baby. But something she said had stuck with him, pulled a nerve so that electricity shot through his body. I need a way to make my life better. It was the first time she had said anything that he could identify with. She too had been stuck, trapped from and by the past that she had enjoyed. He had never asked anything about her life before the bombs fell. Not besides asking her where she worked in Omega Tower. He looked up at her as she sat with her head in her hands and wondered if they had met in a different time and place whether they might have managed to be friends. “Sarah, can I ask you something?”
Sarah shrugged her shoulders to express indifference. “If you like.”
“Before the war, did you have a boyfriend?”
Sarah looked out from behind her fingers, which were covering her eyes like the bars on a prison window. She took a big breath in and tried to muster the effort to recall the past. Zack knew what that was like. Memories were kept hidden, a compartment somewhere in the mind. Sometimes it seemed that as much as you searched around for them in the hope of something familiar they remained elusive, trapped somewhere out of reach. But other times you could be blindsided by memory, a smell, or a feeling from the past. If he had to guess, that's what he would say had just happened to her.
“I had a husband. His name was Joshua.” She paused and closed her eyes and Zack didn't dare say anything. He didn't want to intrude. After a moment she carried on. “But most people had somebody that they lost. Losing a partner for people in Omega is like being born. Everybody had to do it to be here. When everybody goes through the same thing it stops being something legitimately heartbreaking and just becomes the norm. It doesn't matter anymore how you miss their touch or the way they speak to you in the moments before you sleep. Everybody has got their own version of that memory. It’s the people who lost children that can't move on.”
“Did you have a child?”
“Christopher would be eleven and a half years old by now. We would be getting ready to send him to high school. His birthday is next month. The twelfth.” Her words broke into a whimper and she brought her hand to her mouth to choke back the tears.
“I'm sorry.” Zack whispered. He wanted to say that he understood, that losing a child was something that he went through too. But he didn't feel like he had the right to stake any claim on the unborn child that Samantha was carrying and that she would have treasured. He lost that right before the world was destroyed. He couldn’t mourn things that were never his in the first place.
“Everyone is sorry, Zack. But now all I want for the future is to find something that I had in the past. I used to be a nice person. People liked me. I was needed, wanted, loved. Desired. I would love to find those things again in Omega, but I would settle for just being connected. For just belonging somewhere. When you finish building your wall you will make yourself invaluable. Somebody will reward that. You have choices, and people will want to be near you because you will offer them something in return without even trying. But I don't have anything that I can build. I don't have anything to offer except for that which they ask of me, which is a child. If I managed that then I will always be connected to something. I thought maybe you might be the one to help me. Why do you think I went along with this plan?”
“To do the right thing,” he said. He knew that Sarah hadn’t had much choice in the whole thing. But what he hoped was that she at least understood they were doing the right thing. That they would save Serena’s life. That had to be something, didn’t it?
“Yeah,” she said laughing. “To do the right thing. That’s why I went along with this stupid plan.”
“What's so funny about doing the right thing?”
“You don't have a clue about life in Omega, Zack. There is no right thing unless you benefit. Do you think that the right thing to do is to shoot those people on the other side of the bridges?”
“No, but.....”
“No, but what? Do you know how many people are down there, south of our river and living outside in a world that has been destroyed? Do you know how many of them they have killed?”
“Of course I don’t.”
“You came here because life in Delta sucked. You came here because you wanted something better for you. You talk about this Leonard man who you left behind and pretend that you feel guilty about it, but yet you traded him without a second thought to come here. Did you ever think about not taking the place here? No. Did you ever think that without you he might not make it? Maybe. And still you think that because you came here from a place that had less your decision to abandon him was excusable.”
“I.....”
“Exactly. I. You thought about you. You're just the same as me. You want what I want. A better life. You want to forget the past. What you want is freedom to live freely. Omega gives you that. A child will give you that. I will give you that. But yet still you don’t see it. You still crave to do the right thing.”
“Yes,” Zack stammered. “I do want the freedom to live freely. But I don't want that at any cost.”
“Bullshit,” she said. She folded her arms and sat back in her chair. To the side of them there was another couple who looked genuinely in love. Their heads were together and there were smiles on their faces. The man picked at the hairs on the side of the woman’s neck. Maybe they were next in line for an Adoration of Life Ceremony. Sarah regarded them with utte
r disgust. “You know as well as I do that there was never and will never be anybody more important in your life than you.”
Sarah wasn't looking for a child as a way to bring back the past. She was looking for a way to escape it. She didn't want to mourn losses anymore. Omega had taken everything from her. She cared for nothing any more except for herself. But to move forward at any cost was to destroy the path that you took to get there. That future becomes the new prison, with no way to return to where you came from.
“There are different types of freedom, Sarah, and not every prison is built from walls. Sometimes you build the prison yourself by letting people down, by not caring for anybody but yourself and your freedom as you perceive it. Sometimes you have to stand up and be counted, irrespective of the consequences.”
“Everybody is somebody?” Sarah asked sarcastically.
“Yes,” he said as he stood up kicking his chair back. He knocked the table with his thighs and some of the dandelion cooler spilt from the glasses. The waiter and the young couple both stopped what they were doing. Outbursts in Omega Tower? That was new. “Everybody is somebody. And that means that I am somebody.” He began walking away, his pace slow at first.
“Wait, where are you going?” By the time he reached the door to the Refreshments Cafe he was almost jogging. “Zack, wait,” Sarah begged.
“It's time to stop running, Sarah. It's time to stand up and help a person, to be there when they need me. All the while I was looking for myself, and I forgot that I was right here all along. It’s time to find some courage so that I don't let anybody else down.” Zack flashed his tattooed wrist at the sensor and ran through the doors. Sarah dashed from the table and only just slipped through the door before it closed. She span left and right in search of Zack, but by the time she got there he was already gone.
Chapter Thirty Nine
The doors of the lift opened and the Guardians came into view. They were prepared this time, expecting trouble even, in case it came looking for them. Fraser, the larger of the two had taken a real grilling for letting the last unexpected visitor get past the doors. That had been the real issue with national security, Margareta had said. She had threatened to get him shipped back to Epsilon, or worse still Beta Tower. Trudging up those tunnels day in day out would be a nightmare and he didn’t want that. He gripped his Assister ready, but then when he saw the doors open, he let it go. In that moment the threat of Beta Tower was a distant memory.
They beckoned the unexpected guest forwards. The plush pile of the red carpet outside the lift clung to the edges of the Omega-issue shoes and the Guardians looked at one another as if confused.
“Good evening, our good President,” one of them eventually said. There was a subtle grin stretching across his face. “What is the nature of your visit, citizen?”
“National security.”
“That’s funny, because we heard that yesterday, too.” They both took a step closer to the visitor and they saw the fear growing, the threat of what they could do looming in the air. Violence was a last resort in Omega Tower, but it wasn’t forbidden. Margareta had reminded Fraser of that too.
“It's an issue of national security, I assure you. It is essential that I speak with the president.”
The two Guardians began laughing, nudging each other in the side as if they had heard a funny joke. The smaller of the two of them began walking towards the white reception desks.
“Wait here,” said Fraser. He took several steps backwards towards the black leather couch and sat down. The material was so soft that it complied effortlessly with his weight, and he sank into it. It was as if it was about to swallow him whole.
After only a few minutes the sound of heels on marble stone resounded from far down a corridor. The woman called Margareta slowed her pace as she approached. Fraser sprang to his feet. He pulled at his Assister in an effort to show willing and appear threatening. He slid it out of its holder and pointed it at the woman standing at the entrance to the lift. Margareta dismissed him with a flick of the wrist, her disappointment clear. She was going to speak to Brent Ravenscroft about the Guardians he had selected to guard the president’s suite. They were an absolute disgrace.
“Hold out your wrist please,” said Margareta. She held up the scanner against the Omega sign in front of her. After a few moments the scanner beeped and the details of the scanned person flashed up on the screen of the scanner. “So, Miss Sarah Fletcher. A matter of national security. What could you possibly know about national security that we do not?”
Sarah bit her lip before she opened mouth to speak. “Plenty.”
“Miss Fletcher I am tired. I have had a very long day and so if you wouldn’t mind, please get to the point so that the Guardians can escort you back to you room and I can decide what to do with you later.”
Sarah nodded and swallowed the metallic streak of blood flowing into her mouth from where she had bitten her lip through nerves. “I know that at the moment there is a team of people trying to smuggle out a pregnant woman so that she can avoid denunciation.” Margareta appeared doubtful, which quickly turned into amusement.
“I highly doubt that to be correct. Who would possibly attempt such a ridiculous concept?” She looked at Fraser who laughed along with her.
“Emily Grayson.” Their laughter was subdued, although not fully tempered. The second Guardian hurried over to share in the fun.
“The president’s daughter?” Margareta continued. She was trying so hard not to laugh, and kept looking at the Guardians to her side as if to share the joke. “Johnson, if you wouldn’t mind bringing Miss Grayson to us so that she can clear this little matter up.” She turned to Sarah as the Guardian headed down the corridor. “Slander is still a crime you know, Miss Fletcher. And the president’s daughter! You do know how to pick your target. Or perhaps you don’t. Might she by any chance have any accomplices?” Margareta was enjoying herself, and Sarah couldn’t wait to wipe the smug grin from her face.
“Zachary Christian.” Margareta held up a small pane of glass that looked like an oversized version of a control panel. She tapped and swiped her finger across the glass. She smiled.
“Mr. Zachary Christian was just at the health centre where they discovered that you are not pregnant. Perhaps we’re talking about a little case of sour grapes. I suggest you try again next month. You have time. Just.”
“Honestly. I'm telling the truth.” Until now Sarah had remained still, her hands clasped in front of her like a nervous school girl. But what did she have to lose at this point? Either she would be proven right, or she was screwed. There was no turning back now. Maybe she couldn’t make the claim against Emily stick, and yes, then it would look like slander. But surely, even Omega Tower could forgive a mistake. But she needed to give them something undeniable. Something concrete. “The woman is called Serena. She is pregnant by a Guardian.”
“Oh, Miss. Fletcher, your story just gets better and better. There is not a single person alive in the whole of the Republic who would believe this story. And more importantly, there is not a single person who would be able to pull off such a feat.”
Johnson came running back up the corridor, shambling along with a degree of urgency. He was holding his Assister in place to stop is banging against his leg. It relaxed Sarah just to see him coming back alone. Emily wasn’t there. Had to be that. He settled into a gentle pace just before he arrived next to Margareta. His cheeks were ruddy from where he had rushed.
“Well?” asked Margareta.
“I’m afraid Miss Grayson is not in her room,” he huffed. “Miss Beda reports that she hasn’t seen her for the last two hours.”
Margareta tapped her thumb against the edge of the glass panel. She started typing something on the screen.
“Johnson, I want you to inform Ravenscroft of this. Get him here as a matter of priority. Not a word to the president. Not yet.” The Guardian called Johnson had broken out into a sweat by now, glistening beads of it rolling across his che
eks. Nerves or exhaustion, Sarah didn’t know. She didn’t care either because she knew that this was just the first step in her claim being substantiated. This would be the act for which she would finally be rewarded. Her loyalty would be proven. At least her loyalty to Omega, and that was all that mattered. Johnson jogged back over to the desk, the hand on his Assister to stop it bobbling around. Margareta turned to Sarah, who had allowed the smile room to grow.
“And why would you hand me over this man you have just been to the health centre with? Do you not have some kind of relationship?”
“I trusted him to help provide for my future, and now I see that he cannot. He lied to me. He wants something incompatible with life in Omega.”
“Oh, yes? And what might that be?” They walked away from Fraser, leaving him at the door. Margareta directed him to stand guard and he took up his position, Assister in hand. He thought he was ready for anything.
“Freedom. He believes that he's worth more than the rest of us. That the Drifters are worth more than what we have to lose. He is dangerous.”
“Well, that would indeed be a dangerous way of thinking, and I praise our good President he hasn’t made such a mistake.” Sarah smiled in agreement. “But, Miss Fletcher, you have forgotten something very important. It is the Republic which provides for your future.” Sarah nodded, embarrassed that she would make such a mistake. “But it does seem that you might be right about something else and that, Miss Fletcher, is far more important.” Margareta extended her arm around Sarah’s back and led her to the settees. She motioned for Sarah to sit under the golden light that dripped from the lamps. Sarah noticed that the seats looked as if they were floating, and when she sat on them they rocked slightly. She stretched her hands across the arms and rocked back and forth, realising that she was right. They were the softest, most comfortable seats Sarah had ever sat on, and they were floating above the ground.
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