The Dawn: Omnibus edition (box set books 1-5)

by Michelle Muckley

  “What if he chokes on the blood?” asked Emily of the two Guardians. They shared a look of anxiety, and neither had an answer. It was Maurice who offered a solution.

  “Then I will ensure your involvement remains unknown, Miss Emily.”

  Maurice also assured them that nobody but he would try to access that room. He pulled the door to and tested the handle a few times to show them that it was locked. Emily reached over and hugged the old man who had been with them since before their life in Omega Tower. She kissed him on the cheek and felt his cheek flush with warmth. She didn’t know why exactly he had chosen to help her but perhaps he just saw it as part of his duty. His duty was not to question his employer’s actions, but rather act when required. She had always thought it a thankless job to provide her father with drinks, take visitors’ coats, hide in the corner until required. She had never imagined herself being able to tolerate it, but when she thought back on her life she realised that she was already living in the very same way. She had spent her life hiding in the shadows, doing as requested, and looking the part when it was expected of her.

  The agreed plan was that Josh would descend to level seventeen and destroy the pregnancy tests. He would do the same in the health centre of the basement levels before locating Zack. There was the slight problem of the Guardian who would be sitting outside the isolation room, but he smiled as he informed them that he had his own plan. He slipped his hand into a deep pocket and pulled out a small plastic bag. Inside there were several white tablets. They bore no resemblance to the home-made chalky looking tablet that Zack had been in possession of in the sub levels of Delta, but rather industry- formed tablets set with a depressed line running down the centre. He said that there were plenty of Guardians in the sub levels that would let a rule slip if it granted access to unregulated pharmacy.

  “If that fails,” he said as he slipped the tablets back into his pocket, “then I have always got this.” He patted the handle of his Assister, and Emily felt surprisingly reassured.

  They had agreed that even after securing Zack’s escape there was still a large and overwhelming issue of the president’s plan. None of them wanted to sit back and do nothing in the hope that Zack might have some ideas. So it was decided that Millward should also secure a vehicle and try to head south in search of Jackson. Millward was certain it was futile but considering there was no time to start a chain of whispers in the hopes of starting an uprising in Omega Tower, he agreed to give it a try. The only person who had in some way successfully liberated a tower was Jackson with his RUSE program. Making contact with him was their only hope.

  Emily’s role in the plan was simply to be believable. She had to convince her father that she was in love with Zack, that she was having his baby, and that she wanted an Adoration of Life Ceremony. As for loving Zack, she didn’t think that it would be too hard to convince her father, especially since he had seen the video of their kiss. Besides, telling her father that she was in love with Zack didn’t feel very far away from the truth.

  She took a shower and washed her half-head of hair with the jasmine and sage shampoo that her father imported from Denmark. She checked her nails and scrubbed them free of dirt, and then wrapped herself in a warm bath robe. She applied a light layer of moisturiser and wished that she had been to level seventeen to buy colour for her lips. Isn’t that what men liked?

  Staring in the mirror at a bare-faced reflection with a half shaved head made her feel very childish. What was Zack going to make of her when he saw her like this? She wriggled her feet into her slippers and dashed along the corridor.

  She pushed the door open so hard that it slammed into the wall, leaving a dimple in the plaster work. She searched the surface of the dressing table and a chest of drawers but found nothing. She opened up the first drawer of a bedside table. Inside were several men’s watches. She let her fingertips brush over the cold metal but the second-hands all ticking in unison reminded her that there was little time for such distractions. She was about to shut the drawer when something caught her eye. It was a red fingernail on the edge of a photograph. At first she thought it was tucked underneath a copy of the Omega Manifesto, but as she pulled up the book she realised that the photograph was tucked inside of it. Hidden, protected, cared for. She slipped the photograph out. It was her father with her mother in happier times before the war when they were much younger. Their heads were pressed together and their shoulders were bare. They were in bed. There was nothing sexual about the photograph. Instead it was just easy happiness that she saw. She folded the photograph in half and slipped it in the pocket of her dressing gown. She put the copy of the Omega Manifesto back in the drawer and continued her search. On the other side of the bed the drawers were almost empty. But the top drawer did contain a small bottle of perfume, a lipstick and several pairs of pantyhose. She snatched at the lipstick and slammed the drawer shut, all the while feeling the beat of life in the photograph against her leg.

  Back in her bathroom she used the lipstick to add a touch of pink to her cheeks and lips, and then after, deciding that she had painted herself like a clown, used a tissue to wipe it away. The residual smear of colour didn’t look too bad and she told herself it would have to do. In the soft light of the bathroom the shadows under her eyes looked deep and made her look tired. She thought about going back to see if there was anything else of Maggie’s that she could use, but even the thought of her name flooded acidic saliva into her mouth and she scrapped the idea, tossing the lipstick into the small rubbish bin under the sink. She adjusted the wig into place and thought it made her look better. It was weird that she was so interested in her appearance. She never had been before.

  She ignored the Omega uniforms and instead looked at the clothes that her father had provided for her, shipped in from somewhere in Europe. She had refused to wear any of them in protest, but in an effort to convince her father that she was genuine she knew it was a good idea. She was used to the heavy cotton, gauze-like fabric of the Omega uniform, but as she caressed the fabrics she saw that they were completely different. They were heavy, but it a different way, some of them so soft it was as if they were fluid in her hands. Most of them were grey or black, in keeping with her father’s vision of society, and so she slipped out a black silk dress. She pulled the dress over her head and secured the zip which ran along the seam at the side. She saw herself for the first time in the mirror, looking like somebody she didn’t recognise and wondered if the woman staring back at her was the adult who she was always supposed to become. A pair of heels completed the transformation. It was impossible not to smile, but her heart rate was galloping and the risk of what she was doing lingered underneath the beautiful surface that she had created. She left the bedroom, poured and swallowed a quick brandy because that always seemed to make her father feel better, and then waited for him to arrive home.

  When he walked into the lobby with Margareta and a small band of Guardians she knew that he didn’t recognise her at first. A small cry of surprise crept free from Margareta’s lips. When his brain caught up with the vision before him he ushered the Guardians back out the way they had just arrived. He too had missed out on a whole element of life, and seeing Emily dressed as an adult awoke his protective instincts. He closed the door behind them.

  “Emily, darling. The dress is absolutely divine.” Margareta moved towards her, ran her fingertips across the shoulder of the shift dress which was clinging to Emily’s curves like couture. “Doesn’t she look wonderful, Anthony?”

  President Grayson took slow steps towards them. Emily was gripped by the sudden thought that he would smell the brandy on her breath, a fact which would surely weaken her story. She swallowed hard and told herself to get her act together.

  “Yes, Margareta. She looks delightful,” he stuttered. A real smile crept onto Emily’s face. She knew what her father said was genuine and that he saw before him a true image of beauty. Such trivialities had never concerned her the whole time that she had been in
Omega Tower. She had never permitted herself to luxuriate in such trivialities when she felt there was so much in her world that should and could not be trivialised. But now it was called for. It was required in order to convince him, and it was impossible not to enjoy his satisfaction. Perhaps it would be her last chance to experience that.

  “Thank you, Father.” She hadn’t called him Father in many years. “I thought you would be pleased.”

  “Well, of course I am pleased. It is an absolute delight to see you looking as I had always imagined you to look. Seeing that you have made an effort to wear your wig and dress appropriately means that perhaps I am even reaching you. The person I want to reach more than anybody.”

  His honesty was enough to shake her resolve. He still wanted things for her. What was it that she wanted for him? Only to see the error of his ways, but she knew he never would. For many years she had hoped that one day he would wake up and see that what he was doing was wrong. That was what her mother had always hoped for too. But after her mother had slipped into unconsciousness Emily had stopped hoping for her father. She had realised that there was no point.

  “The Denunciation Ceremony made me realise that I am fighting something that I shouldn’t be fighting. We have very limited choices, don’t we, Father? You were just doing what you could, and I see that now. The people save those who are unified. Those who are unified with Omega. Which is why have to tell you something.” He crouched down before her and she allowed him to rest his hand on hers. He looked nervous when he did it and that made her feel stronger. “Father, I need your help.”

  “Tell me, what is it?” Emily glanced at Margareta and tried her best to appear shy. It took another quick glance towards Margareta for her father to break his concentration and realise what Emily was implying. “Margareta, would you please locate Brent Ravenscroft and see how he’s doing with the recall of the Challenger Twos from the south?”

  For a moment Margareta was mute and immobile while she tried to think of a reason not to follow his order. After five seconds of silence she let out a sigh of exasperation to demonstrate her annoyance before strutting out of the lobby, slamming the door behind her.

  “Now tell me, Emily. It is just you and me here.” Emily wanted to tell him that it was not just the two of them, and that her mother was only two rooms away. Instead she smiled and swallowed a few times so that she looked nervous. “Don’t be nervous, Emily. What is bothering you?”

  “Father, I have something to tell you.”

  “Go on. Tell me.”

  “There’s no easy way to say this.”

  “Then just say it.” He inched in further, the frown lines across his forehead deepening and the skin around his eyes crinkling like tissue paper. She could smell brandy on his breath and she knew that he wouldn’t detect any on hers. “Emily, tell me.”

  “Father, I am going to have a baby.”

  Her words were enough to buckle his knees and send him crashing to the floor, but his hand remained firmly gripped onto hers. The thoughts were racing through his mind. Who was responsible? Who had dared touch his daughter that he had not approved? What life must she have outside of his knowledge? After several minutes of silence which Emily did not dare interrupt her father spoke.

  “Please tell me that it isn’t one of the Guardians.”

  “It isn’t one of the Guardians.” An audible sigh of relief flowed from her father’s brandy-stained lips.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” He got himself upright onto his knees before deciding to stand up and take position in one of the adjacent chairs. After quickly realising that side-on did not feel appropriate he stood up and pulled the chair that Christopher Brand had been sitting on earlier and placed it opposite Emily. He sat down, his elbows resting on his thighs, his fingers interlocked. He looked up at Emily. “You’re going to have to tell me who.”

  “Zachary Christian.”

  It took a moment to register. “The lottery winner?” The relief that it was not one of the Guardians who had got her pregnant was short-lived. “Him?” Emily just nodded. Another wave of air gushed from his mouth but this one was frustration, as if his problems had just been multiplied by ten. “Then why did you help him escape? When you are pregnant.” He ran his hands over his hair, ruffling up the style. “I knew as soon as I saw it that the kiss meant something. I saw it in your eyes when I showed you the video. I knew that you had fallen for him and that he obviously had no feelings for you.”

  Could her father really see how she felt about Zack? Had it really been so obvious? She didn’t even know how she felt. But maybe there was something that she had missed out on growing up in Omega Tower. Maybe she was supposed to have learned something by now that would make her sure about interpreting her feelings, and the ability to understand how other people felt about her. If her father could see how she felt, then surely Zack could see it too. Which meant that her father was right, and that he left knowing exactly how she felt. Which meant that he didn’t feel anything for her. Suddenly her fancy dress and shoes and her pathetic attempts at putting make-up on her face felt ridiculous. She wrapped her arms around her chest and the tear that rolled from her eye was as real as her pregnancy was false.

  “Don’t cry, Emily. We can fix this.” She sobbed louder, her shoulders shaking as she allowed herself to be enveloped in her father’s arms, her head resting against his neck. “There are more than enough suitable candidates who can take responsibility for this and marry you. A union with you will be desirable for many. But first we have to get you tested. You never know. You might not even be pregnant.”

  President Grayson pulled out his Communications Panel and called down to level seventeen. Dr Watson answered. President Grayson was quiet as he listened to the report that the health centre had been raided. The Community Centre was practically unmanned after the Denunciation Ceremony, and people were slow getting back to their stations. It had left an opportunity, and many of the drugs had been taken. Some of the pregnancy tests had also been taken, but most of them had simply been destroyed. It was an expression of discontent, Dr Watson hypothesised. It should have been anticipated after a shock Denunciation Ceremony, Dr Watson reminded the president. He confirmed that the health centre in the basement was also targeted.

  President Grayson threw his Communications panel onto a spare black chair. Emily waited for his response. She was trying not to picture Zack because to think of him right now could be a disaster. Her actions up until this point had been driven by her selfish desires to bring Zack back into her life, and it was only now that her father had made her realise that she had no idea how he felt about her. She had been so childish, so impulsive. But now she had to play along because if she didn’t, then Josh and Millward could be at risk. Plus, Fraser, the real piece-of-work Guardian bleeding on Maurice’s occasional bed in the windowless storeroom was still unconscious. If she screwed her part up, the whole plan could fall apart. And no matter what Zack felt for her, she didn’t want to put him in further danger. More than he was in already.

  “It would appear that there is a slight issue with the health centre so until we are able to bring in new supplies we will just have to assume that you are correct.” He pulled his chair in a little closer and took her hands in his. He smiled with his lips stretched across his teeth, as if he was trying to make the best of a bad situation. “We must start thinking about a potential suitor.”

  She shook her head and gripped her father’s hands. “You were right, Father. I do love him. I don’t want anybody else.”

  “But he left you, Emily. He chose to leave knowing how you felt about him. You can do much, much better.”

  “I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy. He didn’t know. I only want him. You have to find him, Father. Bring him back. You are the president, you can do anything. You have to find him.” Tears streamed from her eyes. All she could think of right now was how stupid she had been. Stupid and childish. “You have to find him.”

  “Emily,” he sai
d softly as if he knew he was going to have to try to convince her of the impossible. “That might prove very difficult.” In some ways Emily was grateful to him. The reminder that there would never be a situation in which her father would not be prepared to lie to her was enough to stop her thinking about what Zack might or might not feel. She had heard her father only hours ago in this very room confirm that Zack was in Omega Tower. Even now that she was begging him to find the man she loved, the father of her baby, he was willing to lie to her and keep her from the one thing that she wanted. If she had doubted her actions at any point during the last ten minutes, that one piece of knowledge was enough to remind her that the father she had loved no longer existed. Perhaps based on the fact that they were all alive in Omega Tower in the first place meant that he had never really existed, and the person she loved was just a figure of a father that she had created with her own imagination.

  She snatched her hand away. “Find him. Otherwise,” she said as she towered above him in the heels that he had bought for her, “organise my Denunciation Ceremony.”

  Chapter Sixty

  The first thing that the Guardians did when they arrived in Delta Tower was decommission the lifts. Their instructions were clear, so two Guardians stood in heavy-bottomed boots in the doorways to each set of lifts. Nobody was stupid enough to risk the strike of an Assister just for the sake of not using the stairs. But the rations on offer in the Food Hall were meagre at the best of times, and most residents couldn’t muster the reserves to use the stairs on a daily basis. Leonard for one was too old and too weak to follow the program of double and triple bells without the benefit of the lifts. He failed to turn up for work on time. His antibiotic ration was withheld. His food ration was halved. Without Zack there to share, nobody else was willing.