Eve of Man

by Giovanna Fletcher

  “What?” I ask.

  “I think you might just be the splinter we’ve been waiting for,” he says, dropping a file onto the floor beside me. A single photograph slips out and my heart stops.

  It’s grainy, but the image is clear enough for me to recognize it instantly. It’s a shot from one of the Dome’s surveillance cameras of Eve and Holly, and I know immediately that it was me piloting her.

  It’s a photo of our first kiss.

  41

  BRAM

  I hold the printout closer to my eyes, taking in every detail, trying to recall the feeling, the exhilaration of that moment. Holly’s lips, my lips, touching Eve’s for that briefest of seconds, and in that moment I knew what I was feeling wasn’t one-sided. The way she leaned in, the way her hands touched me. She wanted me too.

  My breath catches as I remember the sensation of her body against mine, the microscopic motors of my kinetic suit replicating her curves and the warmth of her skin against the artificial breeze of the Drop.

  Frost clears his throat and brings me back from above the clouds to the room buried beneath the flooded city.

  “How the hell did you get this?” I ask. “This is beyond classified. Not even we pilots have access to this sort of footage.” My mind is ticking, trying to piece together the puzzle. It’s the most watched location ever to have existed on the planet, but the footage is, understandably, heavily guarded.

  “Let’s just say that we have friends in high places.” Frost smiles beneath his wiry beard.

  “But that makes no sense! Someone on the inside secretly working with the Freevers? Who would risk that?” I ask, searching my memory for any clues as to who their inside man could be. “Getting to work with this sort of access takes years, trust…”

  “It takes sacrifice,” Frost interrupts, with a more serious tone.

  “Sacrifice?” I ask.

  Frost nods. “Leaving their life behind, saying goodbye to their family, the people they love.” Frost’s voice wavers, as if he’s been caught off guard by his emotions.

  He sees me notice and coughs it away.

  “Dedicating themselves to the cause. Fighting for their belief, for what’s right,” he grunts.

  “Leaving behind this for the Tower? Who wouldn’t volunteer for that job?” I say, looking at a trickle of floodwater seeping in through cracks.

  Frost snatches the photograph out of my hands. “If this place doesn’t live up to your standards, I’m sure a return trip to the Tower wouldn’t be too difficult to arrange. They’ve got scanners doing flybys every thirty minutes at surface level, and you’re welcome to head up to see your old pals,” Frost says as he stands and fills the doorway, ready to leave.

  “No, wait!” I stop him. “I can’t go back.” I nod at the photo in his hand and he looks at it for a few moments.

  “Yeah, well, I guess this isn’t really in your job description,” he says, pointing his grubby finger at our touching lips. “The boss’s kid falls for the savior girl, just like every other hot-blooded male in that place, brain down in your pants.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I snap.

  “Oh, let me guess, it’s different with you two. She really has feelings for you,” he says mockingly, making me feel like a stupid kid. From him, it sounds completely ridiculous.

  “Oh, please, do you know how many boys like you we’ve broken out of that place for that exact reason? Okay, maybe not as highly qualified as you, but still, since the second she was born, it became every male on planet Earth’s fantasy to have her fall madly in love with him. Every one of these guys down here thought the same as you. Half of ’em still do, no doubt. You don’t really think I recruited this many men, or built this sort of place, because they want to do the right thing?” He laughs. “Nope. It’s because each and every one of them, even if they don’t admit it to themselves, feels like he has a chance of being THE ONE man that THE ONE girl falls crazy in love with.” He shoves the photo back into my hands. “Or at the very least getting a little of this action, you lucky bastard.”

  “Does everyone down here know about it?” I ask, wondering how the Freevers will judge just another Tower kid who fell for Eve.

  “Not yet. We have our own levels of classification down here. This came directly from our source to me.”

  I sigh. That’s one positive.

  “But they’ll all find out soon enough,” he adds. “Your relationship, or whatever you want to call it, could have some use.”

  “Use?” I ask. “You want to use me?”

  “Everyone down here has a use, kid. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t still be here,” he says.

  “You don’t know Eve like I know her, or like she knows me,” I call after him as he exits my room and disappears into the dark corridor of his headquarters.

  I know what I’m saying sounds crazy—it is crazy, completely nuts. This is what every idiot snob thinks when they first start at the Tower. Statistically it’s the reason 99 percent of men sign up to work there, why there are no job vacancies ever. Once you get a job at the Tower, you don’t leave until you retire. Or die…Or fall crazy in love with Eve, almost get yourself killed by security during your escape, and run away with a bunch of Freevers. Jesus, Bram, what the hell is happening?

  I drop my head into my hands, trying to clear my racing mind. There’s a knock on the door.

  “Can I come in?” Saunders asks through the crack.

  “Sure,” I reply, not even trying to hide my gloom.

  “Damn, mate, you okay?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor next to me.

  “I just had a visit from Frost,” I explain.

  “Oh, I see. Well, he’s a tough bastard, but underneath all that beard there’s a good man, you know. He’s genuine. Not like most of the mindless half-wits down here. What did he say?”

  I hand him the photo. If everyone’s going to find out, he might as well be the first. He recognizes the Dome as fast as I did. When you’re a pilot, that place is your home.

  His jaw drops. He studies the shiny surface of the photo, turning it in the light to see the detail. “You actually kissed her?” he whispers.

  “No,” I reply. “She kissed me.”

  Silence.

  “Well, you mean she kissed Holly,” he says smugly, as if trying to find a hole in my story.

  “No. She kissed me…”

  “You mean she knew it was you?”

  I nod.

  “But…”

  “We met.” I hit him with this bombshell and he stares at me, openmouthed. “Just briefly, but it was enough. She recognized me somehow. My eyes, I guess.”

  “So they just let you back in with her? Miss Silva allowed it?” he asks, trying to process the impossible photograph in his hands.

  “No, they didn’t know what was happening. Well, they sort of did. They just underestimated Eve. They underestimated us.”

  “Us…us?” Disbelief pours from Saunders’s face, perhaps with a little jealousy too. “Did you actually just refer to you and Eve as us? Bram and Eve…Breve!” he jokes.

  I roll my eyes.

  “This is pretty immense, though.”

  “I know.” I take the photo back from him and place it in the pocket of my jumpsuit.

  “So what’s your plan? Thought you’d get out and run away with this circus, did you?” asks Saunders.

  “I had no choice. My time there is over. I can’t be part of that lie. I need to find the truth, and it’s definitely not inside the Tower.”

  “What truth?”

  I take a breath to prepare myself. I already know that what I’m about to say will sound crazy.

  “I’m going to find Ernie Warren.”

  Saunders pauses. “Why?” he asks.

  “I have to know the truth. I can’t hear any more
lies from my father or the EPO, and I can’t trust anyone else yet. All I know is that this goes back to Eve’s parents. If anyone has answers, it’s him.”

  As the words leave my mouth I see Saunders’s lips curl into a smile. “What is it?” I ask.

  “You’re going to fit right in here.” He laughs. “We’ve been looking for him for years.”

  My heart sinks. “And you’ve not found him?”

  Saunders shakes his head. “Nope. Too many loose ends. The list of places he could be is endless. Rumor is that they drugged him up so good that even he doesn’t know who he is anymore, and the people looking after him don’t know who he is. How do you find someone who doesn’t even know who they are themselves?” Saunders shrugs.

  “What do the Freevers want with Eve’s dad?” I ask, my question creating a bemused expression on Saunders’s face.

  “Are you kidding? This is Eve’s dad we’re talking about. This is the guy who single-handedly took on the EPO when the rest of Central was too scared to step even an inch out of line. He made the first crack in the wall of the EPO and we’ve been chipping away at it ever since.”

  “Ernie, the first Freever.”

  “The original.” Saunders salutes. “If we ever actually managed to get our soggy hands on Eve, if we ever managed to prize her from the EPO’s clenched fist, do you really think she’d want to hear a word any of us had to say?”

  I don’t know if he expects a reply. I don’t give him one.

  “Of course not. But she might just listen to the people who reunite her with her father. Then we might have a chance.”

  “So he’s your Eve bait?” I ask, half in jest, half deadly serious.

  “Bingo.” Saunders winks. “We just gotta catch the guy first. Welcome to the search party, my friend.”

  42

  EVE

  A loud bang startles me awake. For a second I think someone is breaking into our safe room, and my stomach flips with fear. I wonder whether it’s friend or foe beyond the thick metal. But no force is used. Instead the heavy door that’s sealed us in unlocks with a clunk, swinging gently forward a few inches, then comes to a natural stop.

  My surrounding community of women inhale an audible breath as we sit and watch, waiting for someone to leap out from behind the door. Seconds pass.

  The phone blares, making us all jump. I put my hand on my chest and can feel my heart thumping.

  While Mother Tabia hurries to the phone, Mother Kadi moves to sit next to me on the bed. Her body remains facing the threatening door, as though she’s ready to protect me. The thought warms me, even though we both know I have age and fitness on my side.

  “Mother Tabia,” she says, picking up the phone and listening with a look of deep concentration.

  Within seconds she places the receiver back in its cradle and nods to us all with a sigh of relief. “We can go,” she breathes.

  “But what about—”

  “Not now,” Mother Tabia warns a Mother in one of the upper bunks.

  I know she was going to ask what has happened to Bram to make him no longer a threat. I start to wonder if he’s escaped or whether the worst has happened. Not knowing is unbearable.

  They will tell me more. They have to. I can’t be expected to bend to their will while getting nothing in return.

  Mother Tabia goes to the door, pulling it wide. Even though we’ve been told there’s no danger lurking behind it, I’m still shocked and relieved to see no one on the other side to greet us.

  We’re free to return to our normal lives, as if we haven’t been cooped up here with no real explanation why.

  The women around me chatter as they make the beds we’ve been lying on, wash the dishes, and sweep the floor, reverting it to the state we found it in.

  I get to my feet and head for the door, but before I walk through it I stop and look back, taking in the sight of the women who’ve looked after me my whole life. The women who’ve cared for me, clothed me, taught me how to double-pirouette or speak Mandarin badly, and shown me what it is to be a compassionate human. They’ve already sacrificed so much in the employ of a woman who doesn’t care for them at all. They are nothing to her, but they are so much to me. I owe who I am to them, and I don’t want to be blind like her.

  “You’ve not gone unnoticed. I see all you do,” I say, my voice rising above their chatter until I’ve got their full attention. “Whatever it was that brought you here to be with me, I want you to know I’m grateful it did. There is so much I’ve yet to learn, but one thing I’m sure of is how I feel about each of you. I’ve recently been doubting the sort of mother I’m going to be, but if I follow the example of the women who raised me, I know I’ll be a good one. A mother who is willing to sacrifice herself and do all she can to protect and provide for her children. Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” Mother Kadi says with a big smile.

  “I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” chips in Mother Kimberley.

  “Nor me,” croaks Mother Caroline. “It’s been the best years of my life, and I’ve had a long one.”

  “Steady on.” I laugh.

  “It’s true,” shouts someone from the back of the room, but before I can identify her, the other women are adding their own words of encouragement or joy at being here with me.

  It’s a strange feeling to have such love expressed to me, but I welcome it. I need it.

  I look to Mother Tabia, the only one to stay silent. For a second I think she’s going to say something crushing, but instead she smiles.

  It’s enough.

  As I walk back to my room and straight into my bathroom, I feel empowered. I meant what I said to them: they’ve given me so much and I’ll always be grateful, but the future is mine to write. Suddenly the responsibility of being the one to prolong the existence of humanity doesn’t seem so daunting, not when I have the Mothers’ support.

  I stay there, looking at my reflection in the mirror and noticing the fire behind my eyes. This could be a fleeting moment of buoyancy, but I embrace it.

  Before long I hear the door close in my bedroom and become aware of the silence that is left behind. I’m alone.

  I walk out of the bathroom and take a breath, then go straight for my mother’s book of letters. Its pages have become well thumbed in the short while I’ve had it. I don’t think she’d have minded that, though. Her words have brought me closer to her, even if they’ve not helped me answer any of the questions I’ve unearthed.

  As I flick through the pages to read my favorite passage once more—the one in which she lists all the things she’s looking forward to us doing when I arrive in the world—my eyes are drawn to something new, a page I’ve not seen before.

  Darling girl,

  I fear I’m losing you before you even arrive. Your father thinks I’m being foolish, but I think my maternal intuition has seeped in early. They’re creating a safe place for you. A tower where you can spend your days in a loving environment and know nothing but good. This makes me happy. I want you to see the good that life has to offer—because already the promise of your arrival has brought about so much change—but their scope is so vast, their plan so complex and intricate, I fear my love won’t be enough to keep you with me. They can offer you so much, even a garden to call your own, so that you never have to leave.

  Vivian is still being incredibly sweet and supportive, so maybe I’m panicking over nothing. It’s not hard to see I’m buckling under the pressure here. There’s so much to take in and prepare for.

  I’ve always wanted to be a mother, but being the mother to the first girl born in fifty years has added so much strain. I feel judged already, with people wondering whether I’m going to do right by you and for them. I could just be being paranoid, of course. Pregnancy hormones will do that to a woman—be warned!

  I know how loved you
are and can see you will have the best life ever lived. But, my little one, what if I’m not enough? They’ll take you. They’ll take you and bring you up their way so that you will become who they want you to be.

  There I go again.

  You are loved. You are yours. Not mine, not theirs. Remember that.

  Love, your Mama xxx

  I read the note a few times to be absolutely certain of its authenticity. Of course I am. These are my mother’s words, intended for me to read. Although they’ve been stripped out of the book I was given, which was evidently an altered version of my mother’s reality, manipulated to keep me on their chosen path. To let me think this is what she wanted for me. But like me, she had serious doubts. I only wish she hadn’t doubted herself so much. I know she would’ve been a fantastic mother to me.

  Glancing back at her words, I wonder who snuck this between the pages I’ve come to know so well. It wasn’t in there earlier, so it must have happened before we were ushered into the safe room, or while we were there, or when we came out and I was in my bathroom. Whichever, someone has decided to make the most of the commotion downstairs and sneak this to me. I wonder how many more entries were edited out or stripped of my mother’s intention.

  I look out of the window in my room at the beauty of the garden zone below, the Tower they built for me and brought me up in, because my mother wasn’t around to do things her way. If only Vivian hadn’t lost the ability to connect with me like she used to.

  A thought occurs to me.

  Surely not.

  Could it all be a lie?

  I need to find out now, before it’s too late.

  43

  BRAM

  I swallow a mouthful of floodweed. It comes straight back up, but I force it down again. I’m trying not to show any sign of weakness.

  “Looks like you’re getting used to it.” Chubs laughs, noticing my wince while slurping his third helping.

  I take my empty tin, rinse it in the large iron bowl they call a sink, and place it with the rest of the pile, ready for the next meal. It’s not home, but I’m starting to see how things work down here. Everyone has their place.