by T. C. Edge
“Good morning, ladies,” hums Sophie, buzzing into the room. “This is Brie Melrose. I’m sure you all saw her at the ceremony the other day. Please give her a nice warm welcome.”
A ripple of welcoming words spreads from the little gathering. It’s hardly warm, though. More like glacial.
“OK, Brie, please take a seat.”
I do so, dropping into a seat right at the back where the scornful eyes aren’t able to see me. Sophie, meanwhile, drifts to the front and looks upon us all.
“Right ladies, tomorrow night is the big one. Some of you have known about it for a while. Others are more recent additions. However, all of you are now on equal footing. You all have an opportunity of a lifetime, and need to make it count. Remember, though, that this isn’t a competition. Your job is to present yourselves to the bachelors as best you can. It is they who choose who they wish to court, not you.”
She moves over to the side of the room, and picks up a little remote from a fixed placing on the wall. Clicking it, the wall behind her glows to life, the first page of a slideshow appearing.
It’s titled: Preparing For Your First Bachelor Ball.
My eyes drop to the bottom right hand corner. There, in small print, it reads: 1 of 64.
I let out a sigh, and sink a little deeper into my chair.
Sixty-four pages.
It’s going to be a long morning.
31
By the time Sophie’s worked her way through the endless series of slides, my stomach is grumbling loudly and calling for lunch.
So vocal are its complaints that it draws the attention of the nearest girls, all of them flashing looks of disgust my way. It’s enough to lure little spots of blush to my cheeks, my eyes averting to my feet.
“Looks like someone’s hungry!” grins Sophie up at the front.
The girls laugh sycophantically, as my cheeks glow a little brighter.
“Not to worry, Brie. Lunch is forthcoming,” adds Sophie, dousing the laughter in the room.
I know she didn’t mean to put the spotlight on me like that, but it’s embarrassing all the same.
Still, I don’t care what these stupid girls think. If they knew why I was really here, and who I really was, I doubt they’d treat me like this.
It’s immediately obvious, just looking around, that most of them are from the southern quarter. Well brought up girls who have come from a higher class of Unenhanced than me. And here I am, invited here without even having to be scouted and tested by the Council of Matrimony.
I guess they’re just jealous.
Still, all I have to do is endure the next day and get to the ball. For these girls, all of this is the most important thing they’ll ever do. For me, it’s a means to an end, nothing but a gateway to something far more important.
Eventually, as my stomach continues to do cartwheels, Sophie brings the morning to a close. Having spent most of the time daydreaming, or feeling too hungry to concentrate, I consider the hours a total waste.
I mean, what do I need to do all of this for? I know who I’m going to be meeting. I could turn up in rags, a cigarette dangling from my bottom lip and a flask of whiskey gripped between my fingers, and it wouldn’t change a thing.
This Adryan, whoever he is, is still going to ‘court’ me and bring me right into the fold. All of this is just a very dull stepping stone.
Yet, I know I have to play it out and keep up appearances. Drawing attention to myself isn’t exactly part of the playbook, so I make sure to keep my head down and get through to tomorrow night without too many hiccups.
My conviction doesn’t last long. As they say, old habits die hard.
Because as we retire to lunch across the hall, I waste no time in plundering the buffet, taking this rare opportunity to fill up on the more succulent offerings that you find in this part of town. As I fill a plate and find a space by myself, I draw yet more attention from the girls for my rather unsightly dining style.
Sophie comes over, shaking her head.
“Brie, my goodness, have you learnt nothing?! You’re munching away like a beast!”
“I’m just eating. I don’t care what these girls think.”
“Well, it’s not a good habit to keep. I know you haven’t been brought up in the same surroundings, but you’re going to have to alter your ways if you want to live in Inner Haven. You’ll have to show proper manners during the courting process, and that’s assuming you’re chosen by someone tomorrow night. You can be sure you’ll be cast straight back to Outer Haven behaving like that.”
“Oh…spare me, Sophie. I’ll save it for opening night, OK.”
“No! Not OK. This reflects badly on me as well, you know. Please, Brie, just slow down, and use your cutlery properly.”
I take a deep breath and note that all eyes are on us. I offer a communal glare to the lot of them.
“Fine. I’ll try harder.”
She smiles in her customary style, reiterates how important manners are, and breezes off.
I spend the rest of the lunch nibbling like a ferret.
The afternoon drags on just like the morning. When we return after lunch, Sophie fills the back wall with a fresh slideshow.
This time, the title is: Preparing For Life In Inner Haven.
And the slides number 78.
Have mercy.
I make a better effort this time, though. While the outcome of the bachelor ball is in no doubt at all, it’s probably not the worst idea for me to forge a stronger grasp of how life goes down on the other side of the wall.
Depending on how my mission goes, I might just be spending some time there. And fitting in properly is going to be an important part of the subterfuge.
I mean, I wouldn’t be much of a spy if I stuck out like a sore thumb, would I?
So, I spend the afternoon listening more carefully and making mental notes. Mostly, Sophie drones on about etiquette and how we, as ‘ladies of the Unenhanced’, are supposed to act.
Of course, our primary function is to do little more than procreate. Unless they can offer some specific skill of benefit with regards to work, the women who marry up don’t generally have jobs. With little else to offer, most merely adopt positions as mothers and housewives and, in some cases, nannies and carers to Enhanced children.
For many of these girls, that’s highly appealing. A life of relative leisure and luxury, where they can consider themselves active, and indeed important, in seeing to the growth of the ranks of the Enhanced.
Naturally, such a mindset is critical to any girl who wishes to be scouted. Other than tests to determine intelligence levels – tests which, looking around, must be in dire need of updating given present company – any potential candidate is required to prove their dedication to ‘bettering’ themselves and committing to life among the Enhanced.
Every girl here, therefore, will have proven their desire to join the ranks of Inner Haven, and do their part in proliferating the species.
I’m rather grateful that I didn’t have to undergo such a test. I’d have likely failed to an unprecedented and spectacular degree.
Which, considering recent revelations, is rather ironic. I mean, given how I’m part Hawk, part Dasher, and part Savant, it’s odd that I maintain such an aversion to their world.
Then again, it’s not the Enhanced I have a problem with. It’s only the Savants, and the Consortium in particular. The higher up the tree you go, the more crooked and dictatorial these people seem to become.
And despite the fact that my mother was one of them, I feel no affiliation with them at all.
The afternoon drones on as I attempt to maintain a tighter focus. As expected, a large portion of the slideshow deals with etiquette, something that most of these girls appear to be well versed in already.
Just the manner in which they’re sitting proves that, each of them doing so with perfect posture which refuses to deflate even as the hours stretch by. For my part, a more comfortable ‘slouching’ position is ado
pted, something that draws regular looks of rebuke from Sophie’s eyes.
And each time she looks at me in such fashion, I giggle internally. Truth be told, I rather enjoy provoking her.
Still, some of the lesson is familiar to me, given my day spent in Inner Haven a week or so ago. I’m well aware of how to walk and act and behave having seen it all first-hand myself. Actually mimicking the lifeless drones is another matter entirely, however.
To ease the transition, Sophie calls us up to run through a few role-plays. I groan at the thought, and sink deeper into the back of the room.
Unfortunately, there’s no hiding from Sophie’s eyes, which immediately pick me out.
“Brie, you’ve been to Inner Haven before. So, up you come. Show these girls how to walk.”
Well played, Sophie. Clear revenge for my slouching and unpleasant table manners.
With a hint of crimson dancing on my cheeks, I stand and walk to the front. Up and down I go, attempting to move with a grace and elegance that’s so alien to me, while putting on an artificial smile that would make the occupants of this room proud.
I think I do a rather good job, all things considered. Still, Sophie sees fit to offer an array of hints and tips until I get it right, bringing sniggers from the audience. Eventually, after what seems like a hundred or so laps of the room, I appear to have won her over.
The other ladies have less trouble. A quick circuit and they’re all back in their seats.
The afternoon of humiliation continues with further role-plays and little enactments. We’re all forced to come back to the front and act out little scenarios, such as how to behave when meeting certain classes of Enhanced, or how certain behaviours should be modified depending on where in Inner Haven we are.
Naturally, the closer you get to the centre of the Spiral, the more important it is to uphold the strictest of etiquettes. This one I pay closer attention to. If I’m to infiltrate the High Tower, I’m going to need to know precisely how to conduct myself.
Still, it’s a torturous and uncomfortable afternoon, and by the time evening dawns, I’m itching to go back to the academy.
Sophie stops me as I gravitate towards the exit to the building.
“And where do you think you’re going?” she asks.
“Home. I can’t stand it here any longer.”
I’m nothing if not honest.
“Oh no, Brie, you must have misunderstood. You’ll be staying here tonight. As I said, this is a training house for ladies seeking to marry up. Some of these girls have been living here for days, or even weeks now.”
“Well…good for them. I’m going home. You can pick me up at the academy tomorrow,” I say dismissively.
I turn to the door and feel a whoosh of air as she swoops in to stop me. Jeez, what is she, some kind of Dasher?!
Her hand grips my wrist as it hovers over the door handle.
“Brie, you’re NOT going home,” she simmers. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me with such disdain. You seem to think yourself superior to me, and all these girls here. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re no better than any of us.”
She glares at me through glowing red slits. I’m forced to recoil.
“Alright, alright…I’ll stay,” I say. “Wow, Sophie, I didn’t know you had it in you. I’m impressed.”
“Well,” she says, righting herself and easing back. “Sometimes you need to put the hammer down. I know you’ve hated today, Brie, but that doesn’t give you the right to be rude. I’m only here to help you, and I’m only doing my job.”
I lower my gaze and bite my bottom lip.
“Sorry. You’re right, Sophie. I’m not usually like this. It’s just…I’ve been through a lot lately. And this is well outside my comfort zone.”
Her muted expression returns to life, a more natural smile creasing her lips.
“I understand. The transition isn’t easy, especially if you’re unprepared for it. All these girls have been working towards this their entire lives. You could even say they were bred for it. But you’ll get it eventually, Brie. I know you didn’t take the tests, but I can tell how smart you are. I’m sure you’ll make a fine wife to whoever picks you tomorrow night.”
“So…you think I’ll be picked?” I ask, forgetting myself for a second.
“I can all but guarantee it,” she smiles, scooping her arm around mine. “Now come on, let’s have some dinner, and talk some more. And don’t worry about the other girls. They’re just not used to a girl like you.”
She leads me from the door, from my escape from this place. I look upon it longingly for a few more moments, before turning my eyes back down the hall.
And back into the nest of snakes I go…
32
The next day I wake with a searing headache. It pulses from inside my skull and spreads to my eyes, which burn as the harsh lights of my room begin to glow.
Sophie appears in the doorway, her fingers on the light switch. At least I got a room to myself.
“Rise and shine, Brie,” comes her voice, bright and breezy and cutting into my head like daggers. “Today’s the big day!”
I squint through narrow slots and raise my head up from the pillow.
“Are you alright?” she asks, stepping in and shutting the door. “You look rather pale.”
“My head,” I mumble. “It’s killing me.”
“Ah, I see, a common problem on mornings like this. It’s the nerves. Here, take these.”
She moves in, pulling a little bottle of pills from her pocket. I’m passed two, and swallow them without water.
She performs a closer inspection of my face.
“Hmmm, perhaps a double dose for you.”
Another two journey down my throat.
“They should kick in over the next half hour. Have a shower and get dressed, and you’ll feel right as rain. If you need to, take breakfast to gather your senses. Don’t worry, it’s quite normal. Many girls lose their appetites the day of the bachelor ball.”
“And what’s happening after breakfast?” I groan.
“Fittings for your dresses. Then we’ll be running over everything one final time – don’t worry, it’s just a summary – before getting you all ready for the ball. It’s so exciting, isn’t it!” she squeaks. I grimace at the lofty pitch of her voice. “Oh…sorry. I’ll leave you alone, Brie. I’ll be back in an hour, OK.”
I nod and shut my eyes, pulling the blanket over my head and disappearing into the darkness. Moments later, the room plunges back into black, and the door shuts tight, cutting off all sound.
All, of course, except the heavy throbbing in my ears.
Mercifully, however, the double dose of painkillers does its job, partially at least. While a lingering headache remains, my brain begins to loosen up and the sensitivity of my eyes subsides as the drugs take effect.
By the time Sophie returns, I’ve managed to shower and dress and feel markedly better.
The next couple of hours are spent finding the perfect dress to fit our frames. We gather in a room filled with them, all lined up against the wall, and are asked one by one to give our dress sizes.
When it comes to me, I get ready to plead ignorance, and prepare for the inevitable round of sniggering from the girls.
Thankfully, Sophie is on hand to help me out.
“Brie, I already know your size, don’t worry,” she says. “I have a dress picked out that should fit you perfectly.”
She gives me a little smile, before moving onto the next girl.
Once she’s jotted down our measurements, she sets about distributing dresses. Most are very similar in size, given the slender shapes of the ladies here, but may need to be adjusted at certain points to ensure they fit just perfectly.
They are, however, all the same. The same light shade of blue that all Unenhanced wear in Inner Haven, and rather simple and yet elegant in design. No frills or unnecessary flourishes adorn them. They are very much in keeping with w
hat I’ve come to expect from the world across the wall.
Once we’ve all been fully fitted, it’s back to the classroom for a summation of yesterday’s teachings. Looking around the room, I see the creeping tendrils of anxiety beginning to appear on otherwise excited faces. The atmosphere, too, begins to grow heavy with nerves as the hours pass by.
Following lunch – during which few consume more than a few bites – we’re taken outside and down the street to the same beauty parlour I visited before my first excursion to Inner Haven.
A flock of beauty technicians gather us in and set us on seats, before getting started on our hair and makeup. The latter is all the same, each of us painted in precisely the same manner. Again, like with the dresses, the final product is simple and yet sophisticated.
Our hair, meanwhile, is presented as similarly as it can be. Mostly, the girls have shoulder length hair or thereabouts, although the colours vary from bright blonde to jet black, with most stuck somewhere in between.
The consistency, too, varies from girl to girl. Some have locks as straight as arrows, others with thick curls that flow like a waterfall. In the end, the beauticians do what they can to ensure we look as similar as possible, a frightening thing to witness when I turn to the mirror and see the faces looking back.
It’s like we’ve been turned into clones. An army of women set to go forth and procreate, to deliver fresh children to the ranks of the Enhanced.
My stomach churns at the sight and thought. And my headache, hovering in the background, begins to battle once more to the fore.
I feel sick to look at us.
Sophie, meanwhile, is of a totally different disposition. In fact, we all look just like her now.
She beams upon seeing us all, and cups her palms together.
“Oh, ladies, you look delicious. The finest batch I’ve ever cooked up, if I might say so myself!”
The other girls beam along with her, mimicking her smile. I can’t bring myself to do the same. Amid a bright blue sky of sunny faces, I must appear as a lonely black cloud.
And, like the rest, I begin to feel the nerves building as the day progresses and the afternoon shifts along at a quickening pace. Soon enough, we’re back at the training house and climbing into our dresses, readying ourselves for the short journey to the inner sanctum of the city.