by Tom Fletcher
‘Mr Bram,’ Dr Oliva greets me with a nod of his balding head. ‘I’m sure you’ve heard the good news.’
‘I have. Can I see him?’ I ask.
‘Absolutely. In fact, he’s been asking for you,’ Dr Oliva says, and points to the open door behind him.
I step inside and see the old man sitting up on the bed in the centre of the empty room. This is no hospital but they’ve done a good job of making the space work for their needs.
‘Bram, isn’t it?’ Ernie says, squinting in my direction. ‘Sorry, I must have left my glasses behind at the house. Anne, the women, are they …?’
‘They’re fine,’ I say, holding out my hand to calm him. ‘Anne’s giving me a hard time for saving their lives, but what can you do?’ I joke.
‘Ha, I bloody bet she is. They don’t get a bunch of men turning up at that place if they aren’t after some sort of trouble,’ says Ernie.
‘We weren’t after trouble, sir. We wanted you,’ I tell him.
‘Well, if it wasn’t trouble you came looking for, you certainly brought it with you. Your friend, Frost, was he?’
I nod.
‘I’m sorry. He seemed like a good man.’ Ernie peers at the bandage around the end of his elbow where his arm used to be. ‘I should have done this myself a long time ago. Coward.’
‘Sir.’
‘Please, it’s Ernie.’
‘Very well. Ernie, you’re about as far from cowardly as I can imagine a man to be. What the EPO have done to you is beyond comprehension,’ I say, taking a seat on the small plastic chair and pulling it along the side of his bed.
‘What they did to me is not the issue, my boy,’ he says.
‘You’re right. What they’re doing to Eve is despicable and –’
‘No,’ he interrupts. ‘Not Eve either.’
I stare at him, confused.
‘It’s what they’re doing to the entire world that’s the most alarming thing,’ Ernie says, with a glint of passion in his Eve-blue eyes. ‘Eve is just their weapon, their ace to play at any hand dealt against them in their power trip to take over the world. It’s not about the future of humanity for them, kid. That’s what the rest of the world cares about, so as long as they hold the key to that, as long as they control Eve, they control the world,’ he says, gazing straight into my eyes. ‘Governments bow to their will, countries obey their commands, armies take their orders, and just look at the state of this world, at the state of the future they appear to be fighting for! But all they’re fighting for is more power. If Eve has girls, what do you think will happen to them?’
I shrug.
‘They’ll be pincushions for a while, of course, just like Eve when she was a baby. Then the whole process will start all over again. Do you really think any daughters of Eve would ever have any more freedom than their mother?’
I think about that for a moment.
‘Of course not,’ Ernie scoffs. ‘Their entire lives are already prearranged. Even their Potentials are lined up.’
‘What? ’
‘Yeah, those deals have already been made.’
‘Deals? What deals?’ I ask, my mind racing to keep up.
‘Powerful men want the blood of powerful men running through the veins of the children of the future, of Eve’s children. There’s only one person who can make that happen.’
‘Vivian Silva,’ I mutter.
Ernie replies with a nod.
‘But why would Vivian make those deals? What does she get in return?’ I ask.
‘Power,’ Ernie says. ‘Continuing, unlimited power.’ I stay silent, hanging on his words. ‘If Eve does provide us with a future, Vivian has put deals in place that will ensure the person controlling that future is her.’
‘So it’s not just about saving humanity any more, it’s about controlling it?’ I ask.
‘I’m afraid, for Vivian Silva, that has been the case for a long time. My darling Corrine and I created Eve, perfect Eve, and Vivian knew from day one that controlling her meant controlling the world.’
‘How do you know all this?’ I ask.
‘When you’ve lived as long as I have, when you’ve had everything taken from you, you have two options. Give up and die, or stick around and fight. I might not have had the luxury of freedom on my side, but people talk, kid. People see things, know things, learn things. Ask the right people the right questions and you get the right answers. There are people in that place, people with loose lips and small brains,’ he says.
He falls quiet, and I look behind to see if the door is closed.
It is.
‘Do you mind if I ask you something personal?’ I say.
‘Of course not, kid. I owe you my freedom. Whatever you need to know, I’m here to help,’ he says, with a surprisingly youthful quickness for an injured old man on a hospital bed.
‘How did you end up in that place? I mean, the rumours that you tried to hurt Eve and that your wife passing drove you insane …’
‘Let me tell you something now, my boy. Something you gotta know about me. Eve is my little girl, my everything. I wouldn’t pluck a hair from her head if I thought it would hurt her. I know what they said about me, that my mind went, that I was a danger to Eve. That was the hardest part of it all.’
‘But did you try to kidnap her?’ I ask.
‘Kidnap? My own daughter?’ he asks calmly. ‘Taking my own baby girl home from the hospital? Is that not every father’s right?’
I nod.
The old man seems to shake a little.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
‘I witnessed them do the most awful things to my Corinne. She could still be here today. They could have saved her. But they didn’t. She didn’t.’
‘Miss Silva?’ I ask, and he nods as though the thought of her burns in his mind.
‘She let my wife die. Out of convenience. With her out of the way it was one less obstacle.’
‘That just left you,’ I say.
‘Precisely,’ he says, swallowing the emotion. ‘I tried to tell people what was happening, what I’d seen with my own eyes, but the harder I tried, the more crazy they made me seem. Eve’s crazy father, crackpot Daddy, Danger Dad! I had it all written about me. I’d had enough. After I lost Corinne all I had left in the world was Eve and I wasn’t going to leave her in the hands of the people who let her mother die.’
‘So you broke in to take her?’ I ask.
‘Broke in? Kid, I walked in,’ he scoffs.
I take a moment to process this information.
‘But all the stories I’ve read say that you broke into Eve’s secure, guarded quarters and took her from her bed,’ I tell him.
‘That’s the way they spun it. Truth is, I just walked right in through the front doors straight to her room and straight out again. Didn’t see anyone else until I was halfway out of the front gates. That was when they brought in a whole squad of their goons. They zapped me with one of their stun-glove thingies. Last thing I remember before my head hit the ground is one of them burning Eve’s arm with a taser. The sound of her screams and the smell of her burning skin have haunted me ever since.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ I say. ‘I’m not saying you’re a liar obviously, but it’s unbelievable.’
‘I still can’t believe it either,’ says Ernie.
All these years I’ve thought of this man as crazy, a risk to Eve’s security, rightly sentenced to a life of isolation in a secret location for Eve’s protection. Now I see a caring father, ripped apart from his daughter by a corporation so powerful that no one could question their actions even if they wanted to.
I try to imagine the old man walking alone into that place, like a damned hiker at the foot of a mountain with stormy weather closing in around him. I wonder what was going through his mind the night he went to take his daughter back, as he stepped across the threshold for the last time, as the beams of light scanned his eyes and granted him access to his doomed future.
‘
So what’s the plan?’ the old man interrupts my thoughts.
‘The plan is the same plan you had all those years ago. We’re going to take back your daughter,’ I tell him, with conviction.
‘That’s all well and good, but how exactly do you think you’ll do it? I’m assuming you’re not welcome to waltz up to the front door and ring the bell.’
Suddenly my thoughts click into place, like planets aligning. The plan lays itself out before me in flashes, stepping-stones to victory, with huge, treacherous gaps between them.
I stand up sharply, making the old man jump.
‘I have an idea.’ I lock eyes with him. ‘I know how we’re going to get Eve.’
56
Eve
By the time we’ve made it up to my room, Mothers Kimberley and Kadi have joined us, looking wounded as they take in the state of me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say to each of them, but they shush me.
They have no choice but to cut me out of my hospital gown, wash and dress me with my wrists still clamped together in cuffs. They tend my injured feet, working quickly and in silence, not knowing when Vivian will descend upon us, and each apprehensive of her arrival.
When I’m ready and fully dressed the room seems eerily quiet despite the other women being with me. We aren’t talking. I’m sure that they, like me, are thinking over my actions and the repercussions they might have. I wasn’t expecting to have this time to contemplate what I’ve done or digest what I’ve seen. Vivian is reactive. She doesn’t sit and plan a response. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say she’s usually a few steps ahead in any given situation, just waiting for me to act in a way she disapproves of so she can wade in with her matriarchal force.
What will she do with me now? My recent actions must have hindered whatever plans she’s spent years concocting. She’s wanted me to be fully dependent on her and the world she’s built for me. Having caught her off guard and destroyed years’ worth of work, I can’t even imagine the depth of the hatred she’s feeling for me right now. But hate as she might, her anger towards me is nothing to the revulsion I feel towards her and everything she stands for.
I will not be her accomplice and bring more children into this fabricated world where we have no understanding of what is going on with the species we’re meant to be saving.
‘You should lie down until she comes. You’ve had an eventful few days,’ says Mother Kimberley, going to my bed and pulling back my duvet, giving it a little pat, as though the sound of its softness might tempt me in.
‘I’m fine,’ I say, shaking my head while trying to ignore my body’s exhaustion. It’s as though huge weights are hanging off every part of me.
‘You look tired,’ she pleads, her hands now rubbing the fabric.
‘Did you know?’ It’s a question I have to ask to understand how deep the lies run.
Mother Kimberley sighs guiltily while stealing glances at the other two Mothers, then looks back at me. ‘Which bit?’
‘I see,’ I say, feeling deflated and foolish.
‘We wanted you to be happy,’ chips in Mother Tabia. ‘To us it was a beautiful place for you to escape to, away from the Dome.’
‘But the reason I loved it so much wasn’t because it was away from here but because it was real and tangible. It was a link. When I was down there I didn’t feel I was being mollycoddled and protected. I felt like I was a part of it. I have never set foot outside this building since the day I stepped into it,’ I say, hearing how ridiculous it sounds as I say it, and feeling more impassioned. ‘Yet I’m meant to continue whatever is going on out there. Is that what I want for my children? Is that what we want for the rebirth generation? To be shut off like breeding slaves?’
‘No, Eve!’ Mother Kimberley exclaims, frantically shaking her head.
‘Because what would be the point of any of it if those who are prolonging life aren’t given a life of their own?’
‘An ironic outlook,’ notes Mother Kadi, pensive.
‘You’re overthinking it,’ mumbles Mother Tabia. ‘It wasn’t meant to be like that. It was to lift your spirits.’
‘But I didn’t need that. You ladies and your love would’ve been enough for me to believe in what we’re trying to save.’ I look at the three of them, each solemn and sombre, and know I’m not the only one who’s been misinformed and manipulated. They’ve already told me they were here ‘for me’, but would they still be here if they knew of the horrors below?
‘Did you know there are babies down there?’ I say, my mouth talking before my mind decides whether or not I should share what I’ve seen. I can’t hold it in and keep the nightmare to myself. I want them to understand. With no Holly around to confide in, I need to share elsewhere. The Mothers are bound to love and care for me supposedly as a biological mother would. I need to voice the sights in my head.
‘Stop,’ says Mother Kadi, her eyes going to Mother Tabia, who instantly looks worried and pained.
‘You must be mistaken,’ mumbles Mother Kimberley, her hands hovering between her mouth and her ears, as though I’ve just blasphemed and she can’t bear to hear it. ‘You are the only living girl who can reproduce now – our last hope.’
‘Naturally, yes, but they’re experimenting. Trying to make girls. No, failing to make them.’
‘Surely not,’ mutters Mother Tabia, looking at me intently, seeming eager for more but fearful of what I might say. ‘Why would they do such a thing?’
‘Because they’ve learnt nothing from the past,’ I say matter-of-factly. ‘They think they know better. I wouldn’t be surprised if they set up my encounters for failure, so they can carry on doing things as they wish.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Mother Tabia says quietly. I feel for her. For so long she’s been Vivian’s accomplice, but it’s clear to see she’s been just as easily manipulated as the rest of us.
‘Being up here, you’re just as cut off as I am, of course you are,’ I say, my voice softer than before. I’ve been living with the notion that things are not as they seem for a while, but for Mother Tabia, who’s clearly never doubted it, I imagine it’s quite a shock to see cracks appearing. She’s always believed this was the righteously divine plan. ‘You have to be. How else would she have managed to get you to leave your families?’
‘I came for you,’ she replies. ‘I can remember where I was when I first heard about you. My mother was poorly and I’d become her full-time carer. She died before you were born. My dad had long since passed away and I had no other family. No siblings, no partner, no children. I was alone and lonely. I felt I’d failed at life, but you were my beacon. I thought your arrival allowed me to play a part in something wonderful.’
‘It did, Tabia,’ Mother Kadi says softly, taking her hand as tears spring to Mother Tabia’s eyes.
‘I’m sorry …’ She sniffs.
‘We should go,’ Mother Kadi says, taking a breath. ‘Vivian won’t be long and she won’t want us here.’
The Mothers exchange knowing glances at having to leave me. I want to ask them to stay, but I know they’ve done more than they should have already, and they all look regretful as they walk towards the door.
‘We’ll be back,’ Mother Kadi promises, with a sigh, squeezing my hand before she leaves my room. She’s fine. We’re fine. Or, at least, she wants us to be. The door closes with a gentle click, yet it leaves a merciless clamp on my heart.
I’m alone again.
Mother Tabia’s confession plays on my mind. She was out there and lonely, just like I am in here. I often feel as if I’m waiting, but for what I don’t know – to become a mother? To fulfil my destiny of procreating? For someone to come and rescue me from this burden? To be set free and allowed to choose?
I wonder what freedom would look like for me. It’s so far away from my grasp that I can’t even imagine it.
I look around my room as emptiness engulfs me. How I wish I lived in different times. I’m tired of living in this bubble. Of having nothi
ng for myself other than what they allow me. My Mothers, my friends, my potential lovers – they have all been chosen for me by others. I no longer want to be just another pawn in their game. I want real choices. I want my desires to be taken seriously. I want my children to know their mother did all she could for them. I want them never to experience this imprisonment and manipulation.
It seems cruel that they’ve allowed me to scupper their intricate plan. Perhaps I’d have been happy living out my days here, thinking I was making a difference and believing whatever lies they fed me.
It dawns on me that even this, my sitting here having to digest everything they’ve done, may be part of their plan – maybe I’m one big variable they’d rather make more stable. They’d rather I was lifeless, or an unfeeling robot just doing whatever they asked without question.
I am a very small cog.
In their plan, I am.
If I have to live their lie for the rest of my life, I want them to dull the ache in my heart, to stop this yearning for something that’s not available to me.
Numb me.
Fry my brain.
Pickle my body in a jar like the others.
Just stop me having to think and feel when all I’m greeted with is emptiness.
‘Come and get me, then,’ I shout at the air around me, blood rushing to my brain. ‘Come and punish me. Do your worst. Turn me into one of your monsters and be done with it. Then you can poke and prod me to your heart’s content and breed from me as much as you like. I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m done!’
I scream. No words. Just a high-pitched deafening wail. I scream until my lungs shrivel and hurt from lack of air. Then I breathe in and do it again.
I scream.
I scream.
I scream.
I scream.
I scream until my voice cuts out, my throat burns and my eyes sting.
I scream until my body gives up.
I scream until I’ve nothing left to give.
I scream.
I remain alone.
57