33
DANIEL DON’T MOVE. HE JUST STARING AT ME like a stunned bird. I roll my eyes. My plan for Baby Girl always been to get her to Father John so he get her out of Orleans. But Daniel showed up with his virus, saying it be halfway to a cure, and I can’t help but stop a second and think. Maybe between the two of them, Daniel and Mr. Go can turn the virus into a cure. No more Delta Fever mean no more blood hunters, no more blood whoring like Mama Gentille. No more Wall. With a cure, we just a step away from Lydia’s dream. And her baby could stay with me, be my family. A new tribe.
“Go on, Daniel. Tell him about the virus. You can trust him,” I say, but Daniel look away from me and my stomach start to sink. “What?” I ask.
Daniel’s mouth open and close again without making a sound. Then Mr. Go stand up. “Here, child, let him be for now. We have other things to attend to.” Mr. Go wave me over, and I see he done set up a crate for the baby. I watch him lay a clean cloth over the bed of moss inside. “Let us see this child of God.”
I lay her down and she seem to like it okay, but it feel strange to not be having her in my arms. Mr. Go bend over the cradle. Out the corner of my eye, I see Daniel relax, and I cut him a look so he know he still got some talking to do. But first, we gonna talk about Lydia.
“Hello, baby,” Mr. Go say. “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“Girl.”
“Well then, hello, Daughter of Eve,” Mr. Go say. He lift Baby Girl in the air and I be glad I changed her diaper. “Thank goodness it’s not cold in here,” he say. “We shall have to find you some clothes.” He look at me, then point to his worktable with his chin. “I have a present for your chieftain in the workbench over there.” I open the drawer below the tabletop and pull out a package wrapped in brown paper. I unwrap it and find three soft white baby shirts, two with long sleeves, one without.
“I’ve been working on creating a variety of silks from plant fibers. Unlike the honeybees, silkworms have proven more difficult to encourage,” he say with a chuckle. “Still, the milkweed silk is quite durable, as are certain breeds of corn silk. I’ve taken the liberty of making what we used to call a layette.”
“They beautiful,” I tell him. “And so soft.”
Mr. Go smile, satisfied. Baby Girl be all settled in his arms like it a natural place to be. “Indeed. Washable, too. Durable as the Delta itself.” He run a long finger down the baby’s cheek and smile again. “I do find crochet to be relaxing. So, now I have met the child. I presume she belongs to Lydia. Where is the mother herself?”
My face grow hot and I take my time answering. Saying it out loud gonna make it feel real, so I put it off as long as I can. I stuff two of the baby shirts in my pack and put the third on Baby Girl. I take her from Mr. Go to thread her little arms through the sleeves. When I look up at Mr. Go again, my eyes be burning, but I don’t cry.
“She be dead. Baby coming killed her.”
Mr. Go’s head drop to his chest. “I see,” he say softly. “Why didn’t she come to me? We had talked about having the birth here. Perhaps I could have—”
“ABs attacked our powwow with the O-Negs,” I tell him. “La Bête be on the warpath. He got weapons coming in over the Wall.”
Mr. Go look like he the one who gonna cry now. That a lot of bad news to take all at once. “I suppose it is that time again,” he say. For a minute, he look even older. “Your whole tribe is gone, then?” he ask.
I shrug and shift Baby Girl to my other arm. “Far as I know.”
He look at me for a long time with them old eyes of his. Only other eyes look that old and wise to me be Baby Girl’s. I wonder if she ever gone grow to be his age.
“Where will you go, Fen? Where will she go?”
Don’t know about me, but for Baby Girl, at least, I have an answer. “I’ma take her to Father John, have him get her out of the Delta. She young enough for it. And that what Lydia would want.”
“Father John . . . did you contact the Coopers? You always did love your sponsor family.” He smile and I know we both thinking how Orleans used to be.
“You got any better ideas?” I ask him. “You looking to take on a baby girl?”
Mr. Go shake his head. “I’m old, Fen, too old to become a father now, or even a guardian to one so young. By Orleans standards, I should be dead already. And we both know what happens to young freesteaders who lose their parents.”
I look down at the little girl in my arms—my seared, twisted skin—and swallow hard. “Yeah,” I agree.
“But a baby and a young woman,” Mr. Go continue. “There might be a place for both of them here.”
It ain’t the first time he offered it. Shoot, if Mr. Go had his way, my folks woulda come here when they left the Professors, and maybe all three of us still be living here today.
Mr. Go’s place be nice enough, and secure, too. But it ain’t nothing but a big containment suit in the end. He stuck in here just like Dr. Warren and them others be stuck in the infirmary at the Institute. Being OP, we ain’t as likely to spread Fever to him, long as we ain’t mixing blood. But I ain’t never been able to picture that as my kind of life. Sure, I can come and go, but we a long way from anywhere I’d be headed, like the Market. If I leave here, I’d be going alone. And if something happen and I don’t come back? Baby Girl got no one but Mr. Go, and like he said, he ain’t gonna be around forever.
“No,” I say finally. “The three of us ain’t enough. A baby need more than two folks watching her. She need a tribe.” If I had a tribe when I been younger, if my folks stayed with the Professors, or even Father John, things mighta been different. “Tribe is life,” I tell him.
Mr. Go don’t look too surprised, but he ain’t happy about it, neither. “Well, at least stay with me ’til this war blows over. The ABs can’t sustain their violence forever.”
I hold Baby Girl to me. Got to feed her soon, got to lay her down for some real sleep. I count the days she been alive. “I ain’t risking Baby Girl catching the Fever. I gotta get her to Father John first thing tomorrow, before she stuck here forever.”
Mr. Go nod and turn away, wiping his eyes. Then he clear his throat and his eyes go sharp, focusing on Daniel. “Now, where were we? There’s some sort of virus?”
Daniel grimace and pull off his hat. “My name is Daniel Weaver. I’m a scientist.”
“The Daniel Weaver?” Mr. Go ask.
I shift Baby Girl to my hip and frown. “What that supposed to mean—the Daniel Weaver?”
Mr. Go break into a big smile. “It means that I have heard of your friend. You see, Dr. Weaver, we are not completely cut off from civilization. I have followed your work, albeit I’m a tad behind the times.” He leave the room and come back with a stack of disks. He hold them up and show Daniel the titles. “Not exactly the latest medical journals and scientific trade papers, but recent enough to include some of your work. Smugglers are my librarians, you see,” Mr. Go say with a laugh. “I’m something of a Delta Fever buff myself, as you can imagine. And while I do my work in Orleans, I find it’s always useful to see what they are working on over the Wall.”
He drop the disks onto the table and sit down again. “But you seemed to have slipped off the map in recent years, Dr. Weaver. Perhaps that is where you should begin.”
Daniel crush his hat in his hands. He look trapped in that encounter suit. Like a chick in an egg that broke too soon, and he all curled up inside.
“I’ve been working on a cure for years now. I kept hitting dead ends ’til I created a retargeted virus designed to attack the Fever from the inside out.” He look up and Mr. Go nod, which he seem happy to see. He drop his hat to use his hands when he talk.
“I was there, Dr. Wells. I thought I had the cure. But it went wrong somehow. In the lab, it kills the Fever. In test subjects, though . . . it does more than that. It turns the Fever against itself. Eradicating the Fever, but . . .”
Mr. Go sigh. “But also killing the host.”
“Yes,” Daniel say.<
br />
I watch them, waiting for what come next.
“A virus like that could be weaponized,” the old man say. Daniel got the good sense to blush at that. Mr. Go may be the oldest man in the Delta, but he also one of the sharpest.
“The military doesn’t know about it,” Daniel say quickly. “When I saw how dangerous it was, I took it off the books. I needed more data, firsthand, if I was going to move forward. I couldn’t rely on the lab to supply me and keep it secret. So I gathered all my samples and data, and here I am.”
“Where is the virus now?” Mr. Go ask, but Daniel don’t move.
“Show him,” I say. This be what it all about.
Daniel take a deep breath and blow it out slowly into his suit. He reach into his coat and pull out the case he showed me back at the Institute. But it ain’t the same shape. I lean forward for a better look. There be a little red light on the black box, clear as day.
I swear under my breath. “That supposed to be green, ain’t it?”
Daniel nod. “With six vials inside.” He hold the box out, show that it be empty.
I lean back, pulling Baby Girl away from him. My face be getting hot and my head be spinning. “Where it at?”
Mr. Go slump in his chair and run a hand over his face. Daniel look at his feet.
“Lost in Rooftops. The fall broke the case open.”
“Jesus wept,” Mr. Go say. “Did it break the vials? Is the virus out?”
Daniel shake his head. “No. I would have known. I’ve got . . . My datalink has scanners. It would have told me. They’re just . . . gone. Maybe swallowed by that thing down there. I don’t know. I was scared. I just wanted to get out.”
“You. Was. Scared.” I bite off the words, my eyes watering. He don’t know from scared, a guy who ride a roller coaster ’cause being scared be fun. I saved this fool. I gave my braids for him. But he ain’t worth shit.
Daniel look up at me. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, well, then I guess it be okay,” I say.
Daniel clear his throat in a burst of static and turn to Mr. Go. “Dr. Wells, you’re a scientist. Maybe you can help?”
Before Mr. Go can do more than open his mouth, I be in Daniel’s face.
“Help?” I bark at him like a swamp fox. “Help what, man? Turn your weapon into sunshine? He ain’t a magician, Daniel. He just an old man. And you. You been carrying this mess with you since day one knowing I got a baby I be trying to protect. But you made me think we had a chance, a chance for something better down here. And then you just leave it in that hole there—that hole you made. And you don’t tell me? I should kill you. I should cut you wide open and leave you for hunters to find.”
“It’s not like I meant to—” Daniel start to say, but I raise my hand to stop him.
“It be exactly like that, Daniel. You come into my town, my home, with this mess and be looking to do Lord knows what. Now what? You just gonna leave it here and walk away? Hell no, man. You don’t walk away from this. You take your shit with you when you leave. You hear me? All of it.”
“Fen,” Mr. Go say so soft, I almost don’t hear him. Daniel be hanging his head like a whipped dog, and Mr. Go looking at me like I be the one done something wrong.
“Dr. Wells is a scientist,” Daniel say. “Maybe . . . maybe he can—”
“Damn it, man, you been asking other folks what to do since before you even got here. Now pack up. I’ma take this child to that priest, then I’ma take you back to Rooftops. You going in that hole and finding that virus. Then you take it and your no-good, virus-carrying ass back over that Wall. Damn.” I squeeze Baby Girl to me so tight, she be squirming, and I start to leave the room. But Mr. Go speak up.
“Forget the virus.”
I whirl on the old man and see he got a hand on Daniel’s shoulder now. “How we supposed to do that, exactly?”
“What else can we do?” he ask back.
Daniel look at his raggedy clothes, still gunked up with the muck of Rooftops. “She’s right. I could go back. To Rooftops. Find the cave-in and the virus.”
“Could you, now?” Mr. Go ask. “One sinkhole in the midst of a dozen to crawl around in the dark and hope the things that live there don’t find you first? And then what?”
Daniel slam his hand on the table. “I don’t know. I don’t know! This city was supposed to be dead.”
Mr. Go smile a crazy hard smile, white teeth flashing like a warning. “Oh, far from it, I’m afraid. Look around you, Daniel. This island, this greenhouse, is one big containment suit. Instead of pumps and filters, I rely on plants to clean the air, siphon the poisons and disease. A fragile ecosystem, but one that works. And bears fruit—not stale recycled urine and carbo gel. It’s why I live here. But outside, in the city, the same process is happening. Orleans is healing itself.”
“No thanks to me,” Daniel say bitterly, and I hear his guilt. Good. Guilt be the start of knowing right from wrong, Daddy used to say. But that all it be. A start.
Mr. Go shrug, palms up. “Show me this virus. You have your data, I presume?”
Daniel nod. “I’ll need something to write with.”
“Maybe two heads will be better than one,” Mr. Go say. “In the meantime, Fen, the vials are lost. God willing, they will stay buried long enough to dissolve into the mire. You are right, Daniel, I am a scientist, and I say that the virus you’ve created, and the cure that you’ve sought, are both inconsequential in the face of God’s work. Nature knows what to do with a poison. She dilutes it. Your sealed vials won’t last forever in the ground here—they will disperse, leeching out in a manner that the land can control. But you’ve got the child to consider. So we’ll take a look at what Daniel has tonight and, in the morning, you will leave. And may God be with you.”
Daniel blink and I hear the tears in his eyes being sucked away into drinking water by his suit. I just can’t bring myself to care.
34
“CHILDREN,” MR. GO SAY SOFTLY. I WAKE UP like a shot, scaring the baby. She cry out, and I jerk myself into a sitting position. Got to feed her, change her so she be quiet. I can’t let her cry.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember my dream—me sharpening my knife to use on Daniel, and Mr. Go dulling the blade, over and over again.
Maybe Mr. Go get something from talking with Daniel. Maybe one day there be a chance for a cure, but not soon enough to keep Baby Girl with me. Not soon enough to save us both from Orleans.
“We up, we up,” I say. I take a deep breath and feel a lump in my belly I don’t expect. The same lump I felt when them ABs attacked. Ain’t ’til now I realized that lump been easing since Daniel showed up. Now it back and I don’t know who I be angrier at, that fool tourist or me.
Mr. Go be standing in the doorway, smiling like we ain’t both been bit by a rabbit and found it been a snake. “It’s near sunrise, Fen. Time for you and that healthy little girl to get a move on. I’ve set aside some purified water for her formula. I can give you more, if you are running low.”
“Thank you,” I say, but water ain’t all we running low on. Common sense in short supply, too. I been going since before Lydia died and don’t know how much more I got in me. I already been stupid with Daniel. Any more mistakes and Baby Girl and I both be dead. Still, I stand up and get Baby Girl ready to go. The sooner this be over, the safer for us both.
When we pulled together, Mr. Go lead us down to the water. Daniel follow, all silent and sulky. He ain’t too happy about yesterday, but I don’t really care long as we get to the end of this thing.
“Have you thought of a name for her yet?” Mr. Go ask, nodding at Baby Girl.
I make a face. It be a big deal, naming someone. But I been thinking Nola, for New Orleans, or Enola, for East Orleans. “Enola,” I tell him. “Enola Jeanne Marie, so she always know where she come from.”
“Enola,” Mr. Go repeat, rolling the word in his mouth like he be drinking it. “I think that sounds just fine.”
We fo
llow him to the air lock at the bottom of the stairs.
“Your ship awaits,” he say, waving his hand like he a showman or something. The door be made of glass. Through it, we can see the “ship” bobbing up against a small dock. It be just a little round bark, like a saucer, made from woven reeds. Two paddles that look like logs be lying in the bottom.
“This?” Daniel ask. “This is a basket.”
Mr. Go nod. “A well-made basket, to be precise. Waterproof in every way, easy to camouflage, and, best of all, completely biodegradable. Now, I’ll be using the locks to reverse the flow of the river here in order to send you upstream. The moment you feel yourselves pulled backward, get to shore. That’s as far as the locks have influence. Otherwise, you’ll just end up back here. Daniel, I’ve drawn you a map. Fen will get you part of the way, and this will lead you to a break in the Wall.” He turn to me. “By the Old Gate,” he say, so I can point Daniel in the right direction.
“What’s the Old Gate?” Daniel ask as he fold up the map and tuck it away in his coat.
“One of the last entrances through the Wall, sealed up about a decade ago. Aide workers and supply trucks used it to deliver goods into the city. You came across, so you are familiar with the moat formed by the bayou along the Wall? The Gate served as a drawbridge. Then it was a watchtower for the military. Unoccupied, as I understand it, for many years.”
Daniel pat his pocket and give his thank-yous.
“Mr. Go.” I tuck Baby Girl in my arms and reach into my pack. The candy bar Daniel gave me be melted into a different shape and hardened again, but it still good. I put it in Mr. Go’s hand.
“Well, I’ll be,” he say, and break into another smile. “I sure do love a Snickers.”
We say our farewells and I climb into the boat with Enola. We be bobbing in the water ’til a hatch lift to one side of us and we use the oars to push off from the steps.
The locks be like wooden gates all along the canal. We float between two hatches and the water start to rise around us. Then a hatch in front of us open and we go whooshing forward, down to the next level. It be like steps made of water. Daniel and I use the paddles to keep from knocking the walls too bad. The last set of locks angle west, and we set off on a smaller stream that flow into the river. Soon we be under the trees and the sun be shimmering through all green and yellow, and it feel like a day in paradise. And it would be, too, if this fool hadn’t gone and dropped a time bomb in the middle of our city. And Orleans not been going to war.
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