The Emperor's Concubine

by Killarney Sheffield

  She flicks off her tablet and stretches out on her bed facing me. “I’m so full I think I’m going to burst.”

  “Me too.”

  Ashley groans and rubs her belly. “I don’t want to be broadcast all over Imram.”

  “I don’t want to be here at all.” Rolling onto my back, I scour the ceiling for any evidence of a camera spying on us, but find nothing suspicious looking.

  Tracy sits down between our beds. “I miss my mother, father and little sister. I want to go home.”

  One by one five other girls come and sit. A tall brunette glances at the door and lowers her voice. “Rumour has it you are our key to getting out of here, Ocean.”

  Startled I sit up. “What? Me?”

  A tiny blonde nods. “Everyone thinks you will win the contest. Once you are the Emperor’s concubine you can make him see this is ridiculous.”

  “I can’t win, I don’t want to win. I just want to be free.” Lowering my voice I look around in hopes none of the other girls in the room heard.

  The little blonde leans forward. “My dad says the land is green and fertile beyond the city walls.”

  A brunette nods in agreement. “Together we could escape. You could lead us to freedom.”

  Are they insane? Me? Lead them to freedom? “What can I do? I am as much a prisoner as you.”

  Tracy places a hand on mine. “We have faith in you, Ocean.”

  This is getting out of hand. I have to dissuade them. “Your faith is misplaced.”

  Ashley shakes her head. “No, my mother told me of the prophecy.”

  I focus on her, not sure I want to know, yet ask anyway, “What prophecy?”

  She shimmies closer. “It is said there will be one true union which will unite our city and free the oppressed.”

  I stare at her, trying to fathom her meaning. What true union? My gaze drifts to each face, registering the hope in the girls’ eyes. “You think that my union with the Emperor will bring freedom to the people of Imram?” Each head moves up and down. No. No! They can’t believe I’m some sort of messiah. They’re insane! “You’re all wrong. I can’t do anything about the situation. You’re holding onto false hopes and dreams.” It hurts to see the disappointment on their faces and I look away. “Go to sleep.” Rolling over I pull the blankets around me and shut my eyes.

  I can’t be their hope. I am just a girl. They are grasping at straws in desperation. Can I blame them?

  Chapter Twelve

  Sullen and wistful looks are directed at me the next morning when the buzzer sounds to wake us. I try to ignore the glances and dress in a clean silver robe. It has been a sleepless night mulling their insistence I am their saviour. If only Mr. White was here. Maybe he could help me sort out my feelings. No, Mr. White can’t be trusted with my deepest thoughts. He is the enemy. Just when he shifted from enemy to friend and back again in my mind I can’t say, exactly.

  We file down the corridor to the dining room. Outside the door a band of enforcers stand. There is something oddly familiar about the second to last one, but before I can take a closer look I’m pushed along with the crowd of girls eager to sample the menu. My puzzlement is interrupted when a stack of fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and a bowl of fresh fruit are set before me. The fragrant smells wafting from the plate make my stomach growl, even though it’s still rolling from the amount of rich food eaten the night before. Where has all the real food come from? Why doesn’t all of Imram get the same rations? I pick at my food even knowing the penalty for waste. What if there really is life outside the city walls? Can I find a way to escape? Everyone thinks I can. Is it possible I am this messiah of prophecy?

  “Two-twenty-three?”

  Looking up, I meet the soft grey eyes of the masked enforcer. “Yes?” Why does the gaze feel so familiar, so friendly?

  “I am to escort you to the medical room after your meal.”

  Recognition widens my eyes. “Sol? Is it really you?”

  “Shh.” He looks over his shoulder. “Not here. Finish your meal.” He straightens and steps back to stare at the void above my head as if he doesn’t know me.

  Taking my cue from him, I hurry to stuff the heavy meal in my mouth and finish, eager to talk with him. When I’m done, my fingers drum an impatient rhythm on the table top, desperate to be with Sol. The minutes tick by in agonizing slowness as I wait for the buzzer. Finally it goes off and I scramble to my feet.

  Sol turns and follows the crowd of girls heading off to their various talent lessons. When we come to the medical wing he steps inside and nods to the woman with the tablet.

  She glances at her screen. “Is this Two-twenty-three?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’ll have to wait a few moments; Dr. White is not in yet.” She points to a row of chairs in the empty waiting room.

  Sol crosses to stand behind one of them and motions for me to sit. “Don’t turn around. Stare straight ahead and pretend you don’t know me.”

  It’s hard to resist the urge to throw my arms around him, but I manage by sitting on my hands. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have been assigned as your personal enforcer.”

  “How? Why?” I whisper with an anxious glance at the woman who is busy behind a desk in the far corner.

  “It doesn’t matter, just listen. There is a movement under foot to rebel, Ocean. We are all part of it. You, me, Danika, Mr. White and a handful of others.”

  I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp. I knew Dr. White was trying to tell me something. “What about Miguel?”

  “Him too.”

  “When? How?”

  “I don’t know yet. It doesn’t look possible until after the pageant.”

  Fear tightens in my breast. “No, I can’t become a concubine, Sol, I can’t!”

  The woman looks up from her tablet and glares at me.

  “Shh,” Sol hisses. He waits until the woman returns to her work before adding, “To be caught talking would ruin all the plans, Ocean. Please be patient, there are many working undercover to aid our escape. The last thing we want to do is jeopardize the mission and the people involved.”

  With a nod, I fix my attention on the woman whose head is bowed over her tablet in concentration. “What do I need to do?”

  “Nothing, just go along with everything and for goodness sake don’t draw any undue attention to yourself.”

  With a grimace, I remember the Taser and running off to Dr. White against orders. “I’ll try. Following orders is not something I’m good at, remember?”

  A soft chuckle escapes him, merely a rumble in his chest. ”Good.”

  Eager to have my confidant back I decide to tell him of the conversation of the night before. “The others think I am some kind of messiah or something. They keep telling me I will lead them to freedom.”

  “How many know?”

  The alarm in his voice gives me pause. “A dozen or so believe it.”

  “You are, Ocean, we both are, but keep it to yourself. It will be dangerous if it leaks back to an unsympathetic enforcer, or officials.”

  The woman gets up from behind the desk. “Dr. White is ready to see you now, Two-twenty-three.”

  With reluctance, I follow her into the office.

  Dr. White sits behind a sturdy white desk in one of his boring brown suits. “Hello, Ocean. It’s nice to see you again.”

  I scan the ceiling and spy the blinking light indicating the camera is on. “Hello, Dr. White.”

  He motions for me to sit opposite him. “How have you been?”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m sorry I am late seeing you, but it seems my camera is on the fritz today. I’ve been trying to fix it.”

  I look up. As if on cue the blinking red light goes out. “Oh, I see.”

  Dr. White tips his head to the woman by the door. “You may return to your work, Mrs. Quicken.”

  The woman leaves, closing the door quietly behind.

  “How are you reall
y, Ocean?”

  “Confused and scared.”

  His gentle smile gives me a little peace. “I can only imagine. I will try to use these sessions to impart information to you as I am able, but a faulty camera will not be tolerated for long by the officials.”

  “I understand.”

  “We don’t have much time. The resistance movement is trying to secure your escape and those of as many others as possible as soon as we can.” He squeezes my hand. “You must be patient, Ocean.”

  “I know.” My lips tremble. “I can’t lie with the Emperor, or another official.”

  “As distasteful as it is, you must if need be. It is the only way to eventually obtain your freedom. Of course we are trying to set in place a plan to free the concubines right after the pageant, but things might go wrong. You must be prepared to possibly pretend compliance for a short time.”

  I cross my arms in effort to keep my shiver of distaste at bay. “I don’t think I can.”

  He pierces me with a stern stare. “You must, I’m sorry. We will do our best to prevent it.”

  “Can’t we escape now? There are very few enforcers here.”

  “No, we are under lock down until pageant night and we will be too easily tracked by the bracelets.” He pushes back the long sleeve of his suit to display a silver bracelet secured to his own wrist holding a black, red and orange tag.

  “You wear them too?”

  “All but the thirty-two officials and the Emperor, of course.”

  “Where are we?”

  He taps his tablet and then sets it on the desk between us. “This is the city.”

  I study the half oval displayed on the screen. It is divided into six rings. A small half circle in the centre is marked Emperor’s Palace. A narrow ring around it is labelled Hub #1/Official’s. The third ring is thicker and labelled Pageant/Medical building & Official Resources. The three remaining half circles are much larger than the previous ones and split into four sections divided by a fat corridor down the middle named Food and Textile Hubs. Each of these smaller hubs is numbered two through thirteen. The flat side of the rings is labelled Power Hub, Water Hub and Special Hub #1 and #2.

  “We went from this Medical Centre between the textile hub, to the pageant hub here.”

  I follow the line his finger makes between the two.

  “The only thing between the outside world and us is the Official’s Hub, the Emperor’s Palace and the great wall surrounding the city.”

  The little thread of hope that is always in the back of my mind spins off its spool of reason. “Have you seen it? Have you seen what they claim is beyond the walls?”

  He frowns. “No, but I have talked to those who have. The Emperor insists the Tasers used to subdue those who try to escape alters their brains, makes them go crazy. I don’t believe that.”

  “You don’t?” Maybe my father and the others are right. The world still exists!

  “No.” He lowers his voice. “I was told beyond the Emperor’s Palace, on the other side of the wall lies a large body of water. It is a bay which leads to the sea. I can’t confirm that though, as any who built this place before the apocalypse can’t be found.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They never made it to the city before the disaster hit.”

  “How is it possible? The Emperor claims he had this place made to house all survivors. He says he knew what was going to happen. He is the one who led our families here, isn’t he? So it makes no sense the ones who built it failed to stay, or return here when the time came.”

  “Unless he had them all killed.” Dr. White’s face is grim.

  I gape at him. “You think the Emperor had all the workers murdered?”

  “How else do you explain the fact that not one of them are here?”

  The reality of the situation materializes in my mind. The Emperor deliberately denied the workers access to the city, or had them killed. The only reason for doing that is to keep anyone from knowing the escape routes, or layout of what is beyond the south walls. “Why does he want to keep us here? What is on the other side of the wall?”

  “I have wondered the same things.” He leans forward. “What if the apocalypse never happened? What if the world is as it always was beyond these walls?”

  What if he’s right? Do I dare believe? My head shakes of its own accord. “My parents told me of the bombs destroying the cities and the sickness that spread through the water sources and killed people.”

  “What if those events never happened, but were only well crafted illusions used to corral citizens into these walls? What if it was all just a fear tactic to herd people here so Emperor Forbais could control us all?”

  The thought makes my mind reel. “But how? How would he pull off such a feat?”

  “Think about it, Ocean. He controls the sun, the moon and the temperature in here. Our sky is all a well-designed illusion of normalcy.”

  Yes, he is right. The artificial sun sets every day at the same time and the glorious replica of the night sky returns like clockwork. If the Emperor can simulate nature’s activities, why can’t he fake a whole disaster?

  Chapter Thirteen

  One by one the girl’s numbers are called. When it is my turn I take a deep breath, force a bright smile to my lips and walk down the red carpet to the edge of the stage with as much grace and refinement as I can muster. Eyes focus on me, but the most unnerving is the Emperor’s unblinking stare. I try to avoid it, yet find myself pausing directly in front of him as I am directed. To my relief Tip and Nip settle on either side of me, their microphones drawn for debate battle.

  Nip thrusts his in my face, at least I think it is Nip. “Number Two-twenty-three, what is your name?”

  It takes me a moment to find my tongue. I’m a little flustered by the question after weeks of being referred to as nothing more than a number. “Ocean, my name is Ocean Delaney.”

  “Ocean? My, what an unusual name, my dear,” Tip intercedes. “Have you ever seen the ocean?”

  “No.” I hesitate, but when Tip lifts an eyebrow and keeps the microphone raised I add, “My mother did once. She told me she has never been able to forget its beauty. My eyes remind her of it.”

  “Very interesting.” Nip turns to the cameras. “Isn’t that interesting, citizens of Imram? Of course, we all know the ocean no longer exists.”

  Before I can stop myself I interrupt, “Doesn’t it? I’ve heard it is still there beyond the walls.”

  A low hiss goes up from the crowd and fear clenches my insides when I sneak a peek at the Emperor. His face is a stony mask.

  Tip straightens his tie, his hands visibly shaking, and clears his throat. “Um, well, of course it is still there... sort of... in a way, but it is completely unsafe, soiled and toxic.” He looks to the Emperor and gives a weak smile. The Emperor must approve his quick cover because he nods ever so slightly.

  Nip breathes an audible sigh that echoes through the speakers. “So Ocean, I hear you have the best academic record in the hubs for a girl, heck even better than most of the boys. To what do you attribute your scholarly success?”

  “I like to learn. It comes easy to me, I guess.”

  “Would you say you are naturally smart then?”

  I flex my hands at my side, uncomfortable with the line of questioning and being the center of attention. “I—I suppose.”

  Tip giggles; it’s an odd sound coming from a man, even if he is a miniature one. “There you have it, folks, Imram’s smartest girl. Too bad you won’t need those smarts as a concubine.”

  The crowd laughs and since I don’t know what to say, I keep quiet. My gaze once again locks with the Emperor’s, this time his stare narrows, as if he is pondering just how smart I might be. Perhaps he is turned off now. With any hope, he won’t choose me.

  “Thank you, Ocean, you may go and change for the talent portion of the pageant.” Tip gives me a playful swat on the bottom as I turn away and I grit my teeth to keep from slapping
him. “Remember, esteemed officials, that was Number Two-twenty-three.”

  I exit the stage, acid rising to the back of my throat almost making me gag.

  Miguel catches hold of my arm and propels me to the dressing screen. “Hurry, you must change.”

  “Where’s Sol?”

  “Don’t worry about him, he’s doing what he needs for our escape, just get changed.”

  “When? When will we make our move?” After ducking behind the screen, I slip out of the negligée and flip it over top of the screen.

  “Never mind,” Miguel hisses and removes the dress. “You will know when it is time, toward the end of the program I think.”

  With reluctance I don the smart pantsuit and step out of my cover. Miguel fusses with the collar and then guides me into the chair in front of the mirror. As quickly as possible he removes the hair extensions before plaiting and winding my remaining locks on the crown of my head.

  The house mother taps her clipboard. “Number Two-twenty-three, you’re on deck.”

  Miguel pushes my colored pastels into my hand. “Good luck.”

  “Good luck?” Easing from the chair, I cast him a dirty look. “I don’t need luck. I’ve no intention of winning this thing.”

  He smiles and kisses my cheek before whispering, “I am counting on you to win it in case we don’t escape.” Without waiting for a reply, he releases me into the arms of the enforcer who is to escort me on stage and leaves to help his other contestant.

  In the middle of the stage are a stool and an easel stocked with paper. Nip hurries over to guide me to the chair. “Esteemed officials, please once again welcome Number Two-twenty-three, Ocean. Now, my dear, what are you going to astound us with tonight?”

  Plan in mind, I make myself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. Taking care to avoid the Emperor’s eye, I open my pastel case. “I thought I might do a few caricatures.”