Eve of Man: Eve of Man Trilogy

by Tom Fletcher

  As Mother Nina pins my headscarf into place she lets out a sigh of dismay. My longest-serving friend has been pensive since we got back. Her wrinkled face is a little tighter than usual, making her look almost stern. Something is on her mind – that’s not an expression I’m used to seeing on her.

  ‘It’s such a shame to be covering you,’ she mumbles, the hooded skin over her eyes creasing further.

  ‘It’s only for the first meeting,’ I say reassuringly, our roles reversing as I try to put her mind at ease. We’ve had a great morning and I’m buoyed up on the strength of it.

  ‘It’s just so unnatural this way,’ she continues, in no more than a whisper, her face screwing up in agitation.

  ‘Can we really call any of this natural?’ I ask, my voice low and measured.

  ‘Maybe not,’ she agrees, gently brushing my cheek. The affectionate gesture makes me smile.

  Her disappointment in the change of procedure is understandable. After last time, I know how much these meetings mean to the Mothers: I saw their disappointment etched on their faces and heard it in Mother Nina’s sobs. Not only are these encounters a promise of the future, they’re a reminder of the past.

  The thought of the outside world creates fire at my core. Soon Mother Nina’s old world could be a part of my future, if the final encounters go well. Reading my mother’s letters has brought an excitement, belief and renewed sense of hope for what’s to come.

  ‘Where did you meet your husband?’ I ask.

  Mother Nina takes a deep breath as she debates whether to answer or not.

  ‘Go on,’ I whisper.

  ‘At a bar in the city,’ she blurts, before she can stop herself. She blushes as she turns to the dressing-table and busies herself with packing away her beautifying tool kit. ‘It was before they stopped allowing us into such places.’

  ‘Why did they stop you?’

  ‘They thought it wasn’t a good idea. They were right,’ she concedes, snapping shut an eyeshadow to emphasize her point.

  ‘What was it like? When you first met?’ I sit on my bed, unsure that I’ll get a response. I want to hear more now that she’s started to open up. She’s talked of her husband before, of course. Just little bits here and there – enough for me to know how smitten they were and how heartbroken she was to lose him. That’s the thing about the Mothers. The majority are here because they have a tragic tale to share, although they rarely tell it. Not to me, anyway. I know she loved and lost, and that her loss brought her to me. To have Mother Nina, who knows so much about me, telling me more about herself has me rapt.

  ‘It was electric,’ she says plainly, flinching as she lets the memories in. ‘I knew there was no way I was leaving that night without the promise of seeing him again. He asked me to marry him two weeks later.’

  ‘Two weeks?’ I gasp.

  She giggles. ‘It was a different time. It felt good to be spontaneous. Even though …’ She trails off, her face caving just a little. ‘I still wouldn’t change it. We were born to be together. Even if it ended far sooner than it should have done. His heart was mine, and mine his. My life became full because of him.’

  ‘It sounds so romantic.’

  ‘It was,’ she whispers, zipping up the last bag and looking me over once more. Her face is serene despite the sadness. ‘He made my life full, but you’ve made it complete. The future will be filled with connections like that because you’re here, and doing what you’re doing. Thank you,’ she adds. ‘Look for that special something, Eve. Seek out love … Or, rather, allow love to seek out you.’

  I smile at her. What is love? I’ve read about it in books, and expressed it in dance classes while stretching my limbs, but what does it feel like?

  ‘Our girl,’ Mother Nina says, reaching over and stroking my cheek so that I’m looking directly at her. ‘You’re everything we could’ve wished for, far more than we prayed for. Now, let’s go.’

  She turns away. I follow her out of the room and stand in my new position within the formation, behind Mother Nina, in front of the other silent Mothers. This time there’s no muttering of excitement. Rather, it’s as if there’s a job to do, and everyone wants to execute it to perfection.

  I hear a rustle of clothing as faces are obscured.

  I follow suit, my fingers clumsy with the fabric.

  We go.

  Ketch and his team are waiting for us when we walk out of the lift, causing a wave of heat to crawl up my neck to my face as I have a flashback to my meeting with the first Potential. The sight of them makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed. Even though I know they can’t be, I feel like they’re all staring at me, maybe even sniggering.

  As we walk past their formation an urge comes over me and I steal a glance at the closest guard. It’s something I’ve never done before but today I can’t help it. Curiosity and paranoia force my eyes towards the stranger whose job it is to protect me. He’s young, maybe a couple of years older than me. He’s incredibly tall, with dark hair and a muscular physique, his cheeks chiselled, his eyes focusing straight ahead. It’s like he’s unaware I’m just a few feet away from him.

  He blinks and swallows, his Adam’s apple jolting upwards. Then, as though he can sense someone looking at him, his eyes flick nervously in my direction and lock with mine.

  I gasp, my whole body tensing in alarm.

  That wasn’t meant to happen.

  That isn’t allowed to happen.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Mother Nina whispers.

  ‘I must have a rogue pin in my dress or something,’ I lie, as I rub my thigh, taking a deep breath to steady my pounding heart.

  I’ve certainly been testing the rules lately, but taking a toy on to the Drop and challenging Holly are nothing in comparison to disregarding orders put in place to keep us all safe.

  ‘Want me to look?’ Mother Nina offers, slowing her pace. There’s a scuffle behind us as the rest of the Mothers realize that something’s occurred. I hear Mother Kimberley apologize and Mother Tabia tut.

  ‘No. I’m fine,’ I mutter, her kindness adding to my guilt.

  We press on. This time I keep my eyes on the floor in front of us because I’m scared of them landing on anyone else.

  As before, Vivian steps out of her spyhole and strides over as soon as we’re outside the chosen meeting room, the heels of her boots making hardly any sound on the marble floor.

  ‘Are you clear on everything?’ she barks.

  ‘Yes. Let Holly do the talking.’

  ‘Correct.’ She sniffs. ‘She’ll enter once you’re seated. Diego doesn’t know you’re here. He thinks it’s another training exercise before the meeting later. To reiterate from our earlier discussion, do not let yourself be known until I say so.’

  She’s always telling me what to do, and I hate that. This is my encounter, my Potential. None of this would be happening if I didn’t exist. Vivian used to understand that, but now she’s nothing like the woman who chased me through the meadow. Instead, sometimes, it’s as though she looks at me with disgust, and I’m not sure how to process that shift.

  ‘I’ll be watching,’ she says, gesturing for Ketch to open the door and let the meeting commence. ‘Go.’

  Diego is shorter than I’d imagined. This is the first thing I notice as I walk into the room. He’s not far off my height. His skin is rough and dark, his eyes small and beady. He wears a plain white shirt over brown trousers with matching brown leather shoes. His mustard blazer gives him an earthy appearance, as though he’s at one with nature. I like that. He’s also wearing a straw hat, trimmed with a wide length of red fabric and a piece of white ribbon to keep it in place. It jars with the rest of his outfit. I’ve seen something similar in history books, so I imagine it has something to do with his Peruvian heritage. It’s touching that he’s honouring his ancestors.

  He doesn’t look nervous like Connor did. He looks controlled and centred. He barely moves as we all enter.

  Shuffling in as one of the Mothers
is entirely different from walking in as myself. It’s the first time I’ve been part of the group, rather than with it, which makes me sad: this is an isolated occasion and soon I’ll just be Eve again. Diego doesn’t even register our existence. I’m not used to that: Eve gets pandered to wherever she goes. To be ignored is an alien sensation. It’s a little thrilling to go unnoticed. To blend.

  We find our seats quickly and without fuss.

  ‘I hope you’ve not been waiting long,’ Holly calls, as she enters the room wearing a floor-length pink gown and cream wedge heels.

  My heart soars when I see the subtle, delicate glint behind her eyes – my Holly. I wasn’t sure which one it would be, but now that I’ve seen her I know this’ll go smoothly, that we’re all in safe hands.

  Diego shrugs despondently.

  ‘Did you have a nice dinner last night?’ Holly asks, not discouraged, as she sits on the chair opposite him with her back to us.

  ‘Richer than I’m used to, but it was food,’ Diego replies, his voice lacking any warmth or kindness. Perhaps he’s annoyed at having to speak to Holly again rather than meeting me. Or, like myself, he may not be in the mood for small talk, with the weight of humanity’s future on his shoulders. Either way, it’s surprising he hasn’t succumbed to Holly’s upbeat personality. She always puts a smile on my face.

  ‘Let’s use this as a rehearsal for later, shall we?’ She’s clearly trying to warm him up so that this meeting isn’t another waste of time. It’s funny being in the room like this, knowing that Holly is working for Vivian. I wonder if they’re communicating in some way, and whether they use the same tactics when they’re with me. The thought sobers me a little. I look to Diego and will him to perk up, to give us something.

  ‘Let’s pretend that I’m Eve,’ continues Holly. ‘Feel free to talk to me as you’d talk to her. You can use this time to practise.’

  Diego’s eyes go from Holly and drift to the floor in front of the Mothers and me. His gaze trails along our line of shoes and continues to the steel-toed boots of the other males in the room. The action makes my breath catch in my throat.

  ‘It is a pleasure to meet with you,’ he says slowly, his words clear through his thick accent.

  He lifts his eyes so that they’re back on Holly, his face relaxing.

  ‘That’s better,’ Holly says, and I hear the smile in her voice, a look Diego mirrors as one side of his mouth inches up a fraction.

  ‘Forgive me, this is new for me,’ he says, shaking his head.

  ‘This is new for everyone.’ Holly laughs kindly. ‘None of us really knows what we’re doing so let’s just keep this casual and friendly. Yes?’

  Diego nods and shuffles in his seat, getting himself into a comfier position.

  She’s won him over, as I knew she would.

  ‘Tell me about your life in Peru.’

  ‘I study maths and history. I like learning.’

  ‘That’s good. Eve is always picking up new skills and knowledge. It’s good you have that in common,’ she sings.

  It’s odd hearing her talk about me as though I’m not in the room. I can’t help but wonder what else she’s going to tell him about me.

  ‘I have a family,’ he goes on.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Four brothers,’ he continues. ‘Our family owned a farm. The crops died. Our animals died.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that.’

  ‘My father died,’ he says, without emotion – perhaps because he doesn’t want to break down in a roomful of strangers. Even though I didn’t know my own parents, I still feel full of sorrow that they’re not here with me. ‘I study and learn to help my family,’ he continues earnestly. ‘I want a good job.’

  ‘That’s great. It’s always important to be ambitious.’

  ‘That I am,’ he concurs.

  ‘How did you find the process of becoming a Potential?’ Holly asks, tilting her head to one side while her elbows slide across the desk, moving her closer to Diego. It’s a look she gives me when she wants me to confide in her – so open, friendly and sympathetic. ‘I imagine it hasn’t been easy so far. Perhaps your ambition has helped.’

  I know very little about how the three Potentials were selected. Genetic compatibility, of course, psychological profiling, physical studies, beliefs, perhaps – I imagine they were subjected to every possible testing method the EPO could think of to whittle the population down to the chosen few. However, studying Diego, a simple man who doesn’t seem extraordinary in any way, it’s hard to imagine what they saw in him. Or what attributes they felt would be beneficial to any future offspring.

  ‘I studied hard,’ Diego agrees, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his palms. ‘This is an honour. To be here. To be chosen. I’ve taken it very seriously. I’ve prayed. Asked for guidance. Become all I can be,’ he says passionately, now spreading his hands across his chest. ‘Earth needs us to be strong. To give ourselves over for the cause.’

  In appearance Diego is small and uninteresting, but inside him there’s a fire that draws me to him. His words are impassioned. He makes sense.

  ‘What is your first thought when you wake up in the morning?’

  I stop breathing as my question is asked, longing to hear his answer.

  ‘I think of my father. How proud he would be to see me here. He taught me that in life we must seize every opportunity. I wake in the morning wanting to make him proud. He had courage. A strong heart. I am the same. I will always be grateful to him.’

  So he does think regularly of his loss.

  I think of my own parents once more, and the book of letters hidden in my room. I have no idea if I inherited my mother’s eyes or my father’s love of all things sweet, but I’m about to find out. Soon I’ll know what their dreams were for me. I hope that one day I, too, will be able to think of my parents and know that I have made them proud.

  I catch myself absent-mindedly rubbing the scar on my wrist.

  My father.

  I stop myself and slowly place my hands on my thighs.

  When I look up Diego is gazing at me.

  ‘Planet Earth is fragile. It needs us to fulfil our duties,’ he continues.

  ‘Indeed, we all have a role to play,’ says Holly, with a beaming smile.

  ‘I want to help her.’

  ‘Earth?’ Holly asks, sounding confused. ‘Mother Nature?’

  ‘Eve,’ he corrects, as he hangs his head towards us seated ladies. ‘I know she’s here. I know she’s heard what I’ve said.’

  My breath catches in my throat. I want to hear more from this unlikely character.

  ‘Together we can make a difference,’ he goes on, his hand softly tapping at his heart. ‘Together we can ensure the future for humanity is as it should be. Eve, tell me you’re here. Stand and show me. Tell me you want the same as I do.’

  I inhale deeply, his words touching me and holding me captive, my body aching to move in agreement.

  ‘I do,’ Mother Nina declares unexpectedly, sensing that I was about to speak. Her veiled chin rises with youthful pride, imitating me.

  I sense all eyes in the room turning to my impersonator, taking everyone by surprise as she steps beyond duty to protect my identity.

  I glance back into the centre of the room just as Diego’s empty seat crashes to the floor. He’s no longer there. Instead he looms over Mother Nina and stops her standing tall.

  My heart freezes as I see her head jolt violently, his hands gripping her throat and squeezing the soft flesh.

  Screaming fills the room. I’ve never heard a sound like it before. Now she’s weakened, his hands move to either side of her beautiful face, jolting her around so that she’s facing us, her friends, her family – watching in horror. Not one of the dozen armed members of Ketch’s security team can get to her in time. In one swift movement he grabs her by the mouth and wrenches her jaw skywards. Her eyes lock on to mine as they bulge in pain. Fear. Relief.

  Before I can get
to her, two strong arms grab me from behind, hands covering my mouth, stifling the scream, as I’m dragged away from the horror unfolding before me.

  10

  Bram

  I lose sight of Eve in the commotion. I yank out my earpiece and drop it on the studio floor to stop Hartman yelling at me. Focus, Bram.

  My heart pounds under the kinetic suit as I scan the encounter room through my visor, and my eyes catch the lifeless body of Mother Nina and the hands that are still around her throat. The Mothers are beating helplessly at Diego, but their frail, seventy-year-old fists make no impression on him.

  Half of Ketch’s security team are uselessly clicking the triggers on their weapons. Idiots. Every gun in the building is chipped, programmed not to fire when pointing at Eve.

  Eve. Where is she?

  I jump the table and move Holly through the mass of veiled women. As I scan the chaos I see her.

  Her blue eyes flash in my direction through the thin strip of her black veil. One of Ketch’s men has his arms around her waist and is pulling her away from the danger, out of the line of fire, so the weapons will reactivate and eliminate the threat.

  When I turn back, Diego’s face is barely a metre away from my own. He is muttering something under his breath, sounds like a prayer. He’s not fazed by the chaos around him, by the armed men scrambling frantically towards him through the sea of Mothers. He is focused as he releases his grip and pulls off the veil, revealing the face of the woman he’s killed.

  His muttering stops.

  He has failed.

  He drops the body and lunges at the nearest veiled Mother. He knows Eve is still in the room.

  There is a sudden metallic click that echoes around the walls. Every gun is armed – Eve is out of the line of fire.

  I turn back in time to see her hands clawing at the open door as she’s pulled from the room towards the lift – but not before she witnesses the execution of Potential Number Two.

  The room lights up as a dozen guns open fire on Diego. I only see it through the reflection in Eve’s horrified eyes before she’s dragged into the corridor.