The Garden

by Emily Shore

He taps my nose, then stamps his finger onto my lips. Big mistake. I revel in how he shrinks away just after I bite down. Sharp enough to draw blood.

  Amused, Neil throws his head back, laugh brightly when he gestures to his finger. “Well done. You have more fight in one little bite than most have in their entire being. You get that from Force.”

  I hiss, denying the sick notion, but after one mere glimpse of my father that night in the Aviary, I know truth is stitched into the seams of the words.

  “You get your pride from him, too,” Neil informs me while retreating to the side of the pool. I remain in the center. “He’s always had a lofty opinion of himself. Even godlike. That’s to be expected when you run an empire.” Neil spits to the ground behind him.

  “So, if you hate Force so much, and you say I’m just like him, then why are you interested in me?”

  “Because you, Serenity, may be the only girl in the world who has the audacity to stand up to him. Who wants to see him cower or at the very least—burn in jealousy. And that is something I admire and something I can use.”

  I take a deep breath and float onto the pool’s surface, asking in a slight exhale. “How so?”

  “I’m opening a Museum. It will double as a medical center as well as a foster care. As you know, the Centre itself is Temple owned. Any other medical facilities in the country are far inferior, but mine will be independent. Clients will be registered and scanned beforehand in the interest of keeping the girls healthy. It’s rare, if not extinct, to see this practiced since client’s are often the priority. Whether District, Museum, or Studio owners…all seem concerned about money first and foremost. But I’ve already amassed a great deal of wealth over the years through my international holdings. I’ll be bringing the finest physicians from all around the world to work for me, and it’s my intention to surpass the Centre and form a solution to the crisis before they get the opportunity.”

  “How do you know about the disease?” I circle my hands around and around in the water.

  “It’s more than the disease. Bodies have shut down gradually over the years. Control and chemicals don’t leave much of a gap for life. Even the life that finds a way doesn’t produce another generation thanks to the effects of the previous one. Our birth rate hangs on by a thread. But this new disease mutation will cripple our population. And I will have the solution before the Centre achieves one.”

  “So, why do you need me?”

  Finally tired of treading and floating, I swim to the edge of the pool where I hoist myself out of the water. I remain there on the edge, legs still partway immersed. Neil doesn’t follow me out, but he does turn around, chest against the stone, arms folded, looking up at me.

  “If I have the Swan and the Skeleton Flower as my symbol, there is not a girl alive who won’t want to enlist in my Museum. Nor a man who won’t go to extraordinary lengths to see her.”

  “And my father?”

  Raising his brows, Neil crooks one side of his mouth, impish grin forming. “He will try, but I assure you, he won’t be able to find you. My location will rival the Temple’s.” I find that hard to believe.

  “Legally, he can do nothing since Luc Aldaine set you free. Short of using his government contacts, Force’s hands are tied. Besides, I am prepared even if he does try.”

  When Neil’s eyes drift lower, I squeeze my arms together, crossing them over my chest before asking the obvious, “How prepared?”

  “Let’s just say I’m popular with the media. And the media runs this country more than any official.”

  “You can get me out of the Garden?”

  Neil rises. I keep my eyes low—on the pool, on the stone, on the grass, on the pavement beyond the grass. Water trips off his lithe legs, regrouping with the pool or splattering me just before he stands. Unashamed shadow spearing my small, white form, Neil bends at the waist, hands on his knees, and murmurs with his head nudging mine…

  Don’t look, don’t look.

  “You and anyone else you desire.”

  Towels wait on pool benches nearby, so Neil turns around. Inside me, butterflies twitch, curious faces yearning to the side ever so little. I nibble my lower lip, trying to stem the meddling emotions, but my eyes wander. Not even a glimpse. More like a millisecond of a glance. His back is turned because I’m not about to risk looking at his front. Muscles don’t stop on their trek down his spine. Did I expect them to?

  I feel the towel drop onto my shoulders a moment later.

  “Take a shower, Serenity. I’ll arrive in your room in a short time, and we may enjoy a midnight meal because I don’t intend to waste a cent or second of our night.”

  He secures the towel around his waist just as I tug my own around my petite frame. Extending his hand, he follows with another option, “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to shower together.”

  “Pass,” I say almost instantaneously.

  Mouth closed, Neil chuckles. Taps my nose again. “Good girl.”

  Encouraged that he departs first, I hurry down the opposite path because I won’t get another chance to see Sky tonight. No matter how short our encounters, I promised him every night. This week, Jade allows him to heal. Between plotting my exhibit over the past few days and tending to her international clients’ needs, she keeps busy but still visits him every day, so I must squeeze in time during the dark hours.

  Just as I start to make my way toward the Shed, another figure plows into me. The force is enough to knock us both off balance. I fall to my knees, but she lands awkwardly on her rear, hands instinctively protecting the slight swell of her belly I can plainly see through her nightgown. Her eyes are wild and terrified, more frightened than a fawn without her mother even if she’s a mother herself. I recognize the blue-tinted hair, the almond-shaped eyes, as well as the black and yellow eyeliner and makeup, runny from her tears. Even in the darkness, I can make out her flushed cheeks.

  Forget-Me-Not.

  Her eyes dart to the voices behind her. I see them coming down the path—two Seedkeepers followed closely by Jade. Even if Forget-Me-Not is taller, she skitters around me with more speed than I’d have thought possible given her swollen midsection.

  “Forget-Me-Not,” Jade barely even looks at me when she speaks. “Now, now, my Flower. I’ve always taken care of you. Why this sudden change of mind?”

  “Why can’t I go to the breeding line?” she wants to know. I’ve never heard of a girl asking to go to the Centre. Not once. Not ever.

  Jade takes one step toward us, longing in her hands as she reaches for the girl behind me. “You know that is not my way, Forget-Me-Not. Besides, you are far too popular for me to lose you. You are one of my rarest, most precious ones. And I think you are giving Skeleton Flower an uncomfortable impression of our Garden.”

  I steel myself, eyes preying on Jade as she nears us. “I’m fine.”

  “Just a few minutes out of your time verses months,” Jade persuades her, words dripping, oozing with care. “It will be painless. And forgotten. Other directors would blame you, beat you, but I will do neither, my Flower.”

  She’s close enough to touch Forget-Me-Not. When I turn back to see the girl, her eyes are low, hands cupped around her belly. I see the debate in her eyes, the hesitancy, the conflict in those deep, blue tides.

  “Imagine how you will be treated on the breeding line. You won’t get much time with it even if it were to survive. You will have no rich food or comfortable sheets. They will give you a supplement drink three times a day that tastes more like chalk than anything else. You will sleep in scratchy sheets and a bed half the size of yours now,” Jade continues in garish detail. “They will inject you with a man’s sperm so you will never again feel warmth on your body. And once your time expires, you will remain there to tend to the next generation of ripe girls if you survive the initial process.”

  She cups Forget-Me-Not’s cheek, trying to tempt her. “Here, you are part of my roots. I will take care of you as I always have. I’ve always screene
d your candidates, matching your personalities and physical attributes. This anomaly will not change that as it would in other Museums. Things will stay as they always do. A warm bed with every luxury you may need or want, companionship of other girls who are more like family, and a fantasy to share every night. I know how much you enjoyed parasailing with your one client. I can arrange for that to happen again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Forget-Me-Not’s shoulders cave, and she nods.

  “Come then, Flower. Follow us back inside, and we will complete the procedure.”

  My stomach is sick. Butterfly heads bow to the floor, doubled over, wings like deflated balloons. I feel sicker when I hear Forget-Me-Not’s next words.

  “Will you come?”

  Jade flicks her head up, glancing at me as I step to the side and lick my lips.

  “I—”

  “Wouldn’t you rather Chocolate Cosmos accompany you? I know she’s your dearest—”

  Forget-Me-Not shakes her head. “No. I want her.”

  I don’t have it in me to accept through words. The most I can muster is a nod.

  “I will inform Neil that you will be late,” Jade succumbs, then alerts one of the Seedkeepers to do her bidding.

  All of Jade’s words make sense. But in a world where the fruit of the womb is so polluted, where the birth rate has spiraled so low, where so many eggs have just broken down that the few who slip through end up sterile, it registers as more than just waste. I’ve never held a baby in my life. I’ve never so much as felt a swollen belly. I can’t even imagine. There has to be some loss. Why else would Forget-Me-Not try to run?

  Jade guides us to the medical wing. Forget-Me-Not doesn’t cry, but she does coil an arm around mine as if she thinks my skin is passing some sort of courage-inducing pheromone. Upon a clearing in the trees just before we arrive, the moonlight radiates her face, painting a glow on vulnerable eyes, lips that are desperately trying not to quiver, but her shoulders read just the opposite. They are squared back, ready.

  The madam director doesn’t seem displeased by my presence. Or annoyed in any way. She doesn’t pay much attention to me at all. She’s far too focused on soothing Forget-Me-Not, who takes her place on the crooked medical bed. All I can seem to do is stand alone in the corner, arms caging my sides as Jade places Forget-Me-Not’s feet in stirrups, legs apart, knees supported by pads.

  I hear my mother’s voice in my head.

  I escaped from the Temple because of you, Serenity. You gave me hope. Endless force fields kept us together with rings of light all around us. I knew the moment you slid out of me. You know my heart better than anyone.

  You are the only one who has heard what it sounds like from the inside.

  Forget-Me-Not motions me over, and I take slow, broken steps until I reach her side. As soon as I register the need in her eyes, I cup her shoulder and hold her hand as a medic wearing blue scrubs applies a local anesthetic. It doesn’t take them long to do the prep work and then stretch open the cervical muscles to insert the hollow, plastic tube into her womb. It’s connected to a suction machine. They won’t cut her or stitch her at all.

  Jade plays with a few strands of Forget-Me-Not’s hair. Gentle and tender. “It will all be over soon, my Flower. Just breathe deeply and try to relax.”

  The medic turns on the machine, and Forget-Me-Not arches her back. At first, I’m startled when she squeezes my hand, wondering how much pain she’s in. The procedure is more advanced now. Doesn’t take as long as it used to when it was done manually, but the machine is a scanner and performs automatically. The machine sucks up the contents. Sucks up the fetus, the…baby. I’m glad I can’t see what the medic can.

  Jade rubs Forget-Me-Not’s neck and shoulders while I feel sweat from her hand’s tight grip.

  “All done,” Jade concludes after the medic nods and cleans up the blood-spattered sheets below her. “You did very well, Forget-Me-Not. You should rest here for the next hour before returning to your room.”

  “I want her to stay.” Forget-Me-Not phrases it more like a demand, but it’s a weak one.

  “Of course, dear. I have some business to attend to, so I will give you some time alone. Please don’t keep Skeleton Flower too long. Her client won’t wait forever.”

  Jade lightly touches my shoulder just before departing, but it doesn’t bring me much encouragement. I have no idea what to say in a situation like this. Sky would. He’s good at knowing. There’s only one thing I can come up with.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Cramps hurt,” Forget-Me-Not replies. “And I’m a little cold.”

  I look around the room, making my way over to check in one of the cabinets next to the sink. Inside, I find some blankets on the second shelf that I fold around Forget-Me-Not. She thanks me and then curls into a ball.

  “Why do you want me to stay?” I ask.

  “Do you want to go?”

  “I—”

  “Cosmos is my oldest friend here, but I didn’t want her to come. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Is this your first time?”

  She shakes her head. “Second. I was hoping it wouldn’t happen again, but my one client…well, I guess he has miracle sperm.”

  “Or you have miracle eggs.” I opt for the latter.

  She shrugs. “Maybe.”

  “What else do you feel?”

  Forget-Me-Not doesn’t respond for a few moments. The moments turn into minutes. I hate the silence because I have to fill it with something, and all I can think of are my mother’s words about her pregnancy. Growing up, she never gave any details about her time in the Temple, except for her pregnancy. Force was kindest to her then. And she also met Kerrick during those months. Even if the Temple became one great blot on her life, she always said her pregnancy was the one part of it that was bearable. More than bearable. How had she described it? Like she’d eaten a star. Like life just glowed inside her.

  “My hands keep going to my stomach,” Forget-Me-Not says after a few more minutes. “I don’t know why. It’s all gone.”

  “Is it?”

  “What do you mean?” She turns her head, angling her neck. “The medic’s always very thorough.”

  I shrug, then slide on to the bed at her feet’s end. “I don’t know. It’s just that DNA is so complex. Billions of tiny particles. I just figure they might not ever be able to get everything. Something, even if it’s microscopic, is left behind. Always there.”

  Forget-Me-Not’s eyes harden. “Like I’m carrying a ghost?”

  I regret my words. They’re not what she needs to hear right now. So, I say nothing else, but Forget-Me-Not sighs and rests her head on the bed. “Maybe…it could be an angel?” She tries for that instead. “A ghost of an angel. It would make more sense. I guess it makes me an angel-killer.” It’s a poor attempt at a joke.

  “What can I do, Forget-Me-Not?” My hands fumble, unknowing.

  She sighs again. “It’s okay, Skeleton.” She rubs her nose. “You can go. This is…normal. I have more repeat clients than any other Flower. It’s how I earned my name. They keep me busy. I don’t get cold that much. Not like now.”

  That’s when it hits me. Memory strikes me hard. More than a wrecking ball, it’s a wrecking mountain. I don’t pretend she’s Gull, but my body remembers the familiar pattern of sliding into bed next to her. Forget-Me-Not smells different. She doesn’t reek of sweat. Her scent is sweet and lovely. Sugarplum skin. Curling the blanket around my back, I contort my body into the fetal position behind her. Forget-Me-Not doesn’t let me hold her like Gull always had. Gull hadn’t been able to get enough of my skin. Forget-Me-Not keeps a safe distance as if this is just physical. Except her next words remind me she’s feeling more than I could ever imagine.

  “Don’t forget me, Skeleton.”

  18

  C o n V e r s a T i o n s

  Neil is standing outside my room when I round the corner still in my bare feet with the towel ti
ed around my chest. My hair has dried more due to the situation with Forget-Me-Not, but with my adrenaline now low, I’m discovering how cold I am. As soon as he notices me, he shakes his head with a sigh and leans against the doorframe to study me.

  “Received a message you were going to be late. Dismember another Seedkeeper?” he asks as I approach, gesturing to my towel.

  That’s when I realize part of the towel is bloody near one of the lower edges. It must have come from Forget-Me-Not.

  I roll my eyes, sweeping past him to open the door. “I didn’t dismember him in the first place, but that would’ve been a good one.”

  He follows me into my room, then closes the door behind him.

  “Do you think you can do me a big favor?” I hesitatingly ask.

  “Provided it’s no bigger than arranging for your release from the Garden…”

  After I unwrap the towel from my body, I toss it to him even as I back away to the bathroom. “Can you burn that the first chance you get?”

  He fingers the towel. “Do I want to know?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Whatever you want, your Skeleton-ness.” He mockingly bows to me.

  I close the bathroom door, hearing him whistle even as I turn the shower to scalding and tug at the Skeleton Flower bottoms before peeling the flowers off my chest. Without the remover, it hurts more and leaves a few red welts, but I’m far too flustered for even a seedling’s worth of patience tonight. Thanks to my implant, they’ll heal quickly. Can’t wait to get under the showerhead. Just as predicted, the waterproof body paint doesn’t wash off despite my scrubbing. After the windows steam up, I don’t bother checking anymore.

  “The body paint becomes you.”

  The voice inside the bathroom is like a claw dragging a thin line on the skin above my spine. It chills me. With those words, he’s transformed the entire shower into a snow globe. Robotically, I turn off the water, feeling the droplets stinging my skin like icicle tips.

  “Luc,” I murmur before slowly opening the shower door to find him sitting on the bathroom counter, staring at the floor with a towel clutched in his hand. “What are you doing here?” I whisper, seizing the towel and wrapping it around myself.