Glow (25 page)

“What?! How can there be so many?”

“They gave you drugs. In the food,” Amanda said. “You made lots of eggs.”

“And you think that’s okay?” Waverly cried so loudly that people turned to look at her.

“They didn’t exactly ask my opinion, Waverly,” Amanda said grimly.

“And if they had?”

“I would have told them to get your permission. Because any other way is just despicable.”

On the stage, Anne Mather sat between her two lectors, waiting for services to begin. The older lector looked nearly asleep, but the young woman with the braided auburn hair looked at the crowd with practiced serenity. For an instant, her eyes met Waverly’s, but she looked into the distance again as though she’d never seen her.

So Mather hadn’t discovered her yet. She was still safe, for now.

“Who’s that woman sitting next to Anne?” Waverly asked Amanda, who seemed glad to change the subject.

“Jessica Eaton. Jess. She’s only recently volunteered to help with services, since Deacon Maddox lost his voice. She does some of the readings.”

“How’d she get that job?” Waverly asked carefully.

“She’s Anne’s assistant. Why?”

Waverly shrugged. “Just curious.”

Hands folded prayerfully under her chin, Mather smiled at Amanda and Waverly. Her white satin robe reflected light onto her plump cheeks, giving her a saintly glow.

“You know, Waverly, I don’t agree with everything my friend does,” Amanda finally said. “But I don’t have her responsibilities. She’s dealing with a lot.”

“You wanted a baby, right? So you don’t disapprove
all that much
.”

Amanda blanched. Just as the lights dimmed, signaling that services were about to begin, she whispered, “Imagine being offered the one thing you’ve wanted more than anything. Would you refuse to cooperate? Really?”

Too angry to reply, Waverly looked around the room. She saw Samantha, Sarah, and Felicity all sitting in the front row across the aisle. Samantha was staring at Waverly, mouth set, brown eyes unwavering. She looked thinner, harder, too. Sarah turned toward Waverly and mouthed a word, but Waverly couldn’t make it out. She shook her head. Anne Mather had walked to the microphone, and Sarah turned to face the stage, her hands gathered into a tight lump on her lap.

Felicity fastened her eyes on Mather, her expression bland. Maybe she was good at hiding her fear, or maybe after life as the most beautiful girl on the Empyrean, she was so used to being afraid that she didn’t know how to be angry anymore.

Still, it had been so long since Waverly had seen anyone from the Empyrean that it felt wonderful to see familiar faces, however changed they might be. She longed for Kieran, or even a picture of him, just so she could look at his face.

Everyone in the congregation stood. Amanda motioned for Waverly to stay seated, but she stood anyway, leaning heavily on her new cane.

Mather smiled warmly and raised her hands in an embracing gesture. “I want to begin this service by praising God for the glorious gift of stars!” she flung her arm toward the large porthole above, where a veil of stars twinkled. The congregation gave a prolonged ovation. Even Waverly smiled as she looked at the beautiful sky she’d missed for so long.

“Lord,” Mather said, and the applause die down. “We thank You for the blessings You have bestowed on our people. You have shown us the way to create life by sending us Your beautiful daughters from the vessel of our fallen comrades. I wish to honor these generous girls who have shared of their flesh. I’d like to ask the young women to take the stage so that we can thank you properly. Waverly Marshall, Deborah Mombasa, Alia Khadivi, Felicity Wiggam, Samantha Stapleton, Sarah Hodges, and Melissa Dickinson, please join me here.”

Shocked to hear so many names, at first Waverly couldn’t move. But when Samantha offered her hand, she took it, letting the girl steady her as she shuffled onto the stage and took one of the chairs offered to her personally by Anne Mather. Waverly looked at the woman coldly, but Mather only smiled and even had the gall to stroke her cheek. The audience murmured approvingly at the gesture. Once all the girls were seated, Mather went back to her microphone.

Waverly looked into the audience and saw so many graying, middle-aged people beaming up at her that she almost wanted to smile back.
They’re my captors,
she reminded herself.
Every last one of them.

As for the other girls, Felicity, Alia, and Deborah were composed, their faces solemn. Sarah looked as if she were on the verge of angry tears, and Samantha, fists clenched on her knees, scanned the crowd as though choosing whom to kill first. Waverly doubted very much that Mather had gotten their full cooperation.

“Now,” the Pastor said, one hand raised, “I want these girls to see the beautiful work they’ve done in God’s creation. All the women who have been blessed by these girls’ generosity, please stand and show us who you are.”

Dozens and dozens of women stood up, many with tears streaming down their cheeks. Waverly looked at Samantha, whose dark eyes burned with fiery rage. Sarah’s eyes were red, and she was biting into her bottom lip savagely, as if trying to hold back tears. Felicity’s large blue eyes were wide with surprise. She glanced briefly at Waverly and away, her expression unreadable.

“Because of these brave girls,” Mather continued, “we shall survive into the dark night of humanity’s journey across the universe, and our children will see the dawn on New Earth!”

The room erupted. People stood, clapping, cheering, and waving at the girls. Many wept openly.

During the wild applause, Waverly shouted into Samantha’s ear, “What did they do to you?”

“They drugged us!” Samantha yelled over the cacophony. “When we woke up it was done.
Then
they asked for permission, while we were barely conscious.”

“We’ll get away!” Waverly said.

“We’ll have to do it during services,” Samantha replied. “It’s the only time we’re all together in one room!”

“We’ve got to meet!” said Waverly, conscious that the applause was dying down. There wasn’t much time left.

“They watch me every second!”

“I’ll talk to Amanda,” Waverly said. Of all the women who’d been impregnated, only her face was troubled. “She’ll help, I think.”

Samantha’s hand clamped onto Waverly’s knee. “We can’t trust
anyone
here!” she said as the last of the applause died out. “Promise me you won’t say anything to her! Waverly!”

Waverly chewed her lip as she regarded Amanda. She might be their only chance, but Samantha was right. It would be better to find another way, if they could. “Okay,” she said just as Anne Mather began her sermon.

“I’d like to take you back fifteen years,” Anne Mather said, her voice ringing over the congregation like a clarion call, and they listened, Waverly thought, as though her words meant eternal life. “After years of carelessness and naïve selfishness, we finally got to the task of conceiving our families, only to learn that none of us would ever bear children. Do you remember how that felt?”

Many of the women in the congregation nodded.

“We were devastated.” Anne Mather let that word hang in the air before continuing. “God told Abraham once, ‘Know of a surety that thy seed shall be a stranger in a strange land.’ Yet Abraham’s wife, Sarah, bore no children. So she said to him, ‘Behold now, the L
ORD
hath restrained me from bearing: I pray thee, go in unto my maid; it may be that I may obtain children by her.’ And Abraham hearkened to the voice of Sarah.”

Mather held a hand toward the row of girls on the stage, and the congregation obediently shifted their gaze. Waverly felt mortified. They were looking at her as though she were some kind of saint. “These girls are the fulfillment of God’s promise to the people of the New Horizon!”

Once again the congregation burst into applause, and Mather soaked it up. She’d spoken with utter conviction, and her flock had responded in kind.

“These people actually believe they’re doing God’s will,” Samantha said into Waverly’s ear.

“Maybe not
all
of them,” Waverly said thoughtfully.

Waverly looked at Anne Mather. Did that woman really believe what she said? Or was it all an act? Mather gazed at her triumphantly, as though the real purpose of this exercise was to show Waverly just how much power she had.

She’s convinced them that they’re favored by God,
thought Waverly,
and that their lives have special purpose. She knows how to make them love her. That’s her power.

After endless readings, trilling songs from Josiah and the rest of the choir, and another round of applause for Waverly and the girls, services finally ended. Waverly let Samantha pull her to her feet. Once upright, she was shocked by the sudden presence of Anne Mather. “I hope you girls enjoyed that,” she said with a smug grin. “I wanted to show you our gratitude.”

Amanda joined them. “Wonderful sermon today, Anne,” she said, beaming.

“Thank you.” Mather looked at Amanda with real fondness.

“Anne used to be my babysitter, Waverly. Way back when.”

“Amanda was like a daughter to me,” Mather said. The love between the two of them was palpable. Clearly Mather cared very much what Amanda thought of her.

“Waverly,” Amanda said, hooking arms with Mather, “did you know Anne started as a schoolteacher? She taught Josiah and me how to read.”

“I wasn’t very good at it,” Mather said with a shake of her head.

“Really?” Amanda sounded surprised. “I think it’s something I would have liked to try someday. If there had been children here, that is.”

“Now there are,” Waverly said. She was getting an idea for a way she and Samantha could communicate. “Amanda, why don’t you put together a school for us girls? The older ones, anyway?”

Mather’s gray eyes darted at Waverly, and the girl smiled dangerously at her.

“That’s a good idea!” Amanda cried.

“You’d be a great teacher,” Waverly told her.

“I don’t know if the girls are ready,” Mather objected, and Waverly thought she saw sweat at the woman’s temple.

“I’m so bored all day,” Waverly said, adding, “it would be nice to see my friends, too.”

“Please let me do it, Anne!” Amanda cried. “I can’t paint round the clock! And it would be good for the girls.”

Waverly kept her expression innocent, but the seething way Mather looked at her showed she wasn’t fooled. Waverly didn’t care. Obviously Mather wanted Amanda to think of her as a saintly leader, not a scheming liar. This gave Waverly power over her.

“I’ll think about it,” Mather said carefully.

“What is there to think about?” Amanda asked, confused. “They’re young girls. They need to learn.”

“There are other considerations.”

Josiah called Amanda over to join a conversation with the choir, and she stepped away, leaving Mather and Waverly alone.

“These people certainly love you,” Waverly said, her voice menacing and low. “Especially Amanda.”

“We’re all a family,” Mather returned, her cheeks pink.

“Would they still love you,” Waverly asked, “if they knew all the things you’ve done?”

Mather looked at her in surprise.

Waverly turned and limped off the stage.

SCHOOL

It happened strangely. Amanda woke Waverly early one morning and gave her a tan smock, brown kneesocks, and a knit beret. The outfit reminded Waverly of pictures she’d seen of Girl Scouts from the twentieth century. “I couldn’t talk them out of uniforms,” Amanda said with an apologetic shrug.

Waverly didn’t care how stupid she looked. She just wanted to see her friends.

Amanda wore a tan smock and brown stockings, too, but instead of the ridiculous beret, she had a black neckerchief. After their breakfast of brown rice, bananas, and honey, she led Waverly to the living room and sat down facing the girl, her hands on her already swelling belly.

“I thought we were leaving,” Waverly said.

“Oh, we are,” she said, smiling.

A knock sounded at the door, two harsh raps.

“They’re here,” Amanda said, handing Waverly her cane.

There were guards outside the door and behind them a gathering of the oldest girls from the Empyrean, all dressed in smocks and berets. Felicity’s blue eyes were vacant. Samantha had taken off her beret and was crushing it in her fist. Sarah stared at Waverly, her eyes stony in her freckled face.

“Are we ready for school?” the guard with the scar asked Waverly, sneering.

She ignored him and hobbled past the other girls to stand next to Samantha and Sarah.

“Hi.” Samantha leaned toward Waverly, about to speak, when a shout from the guard stopped her.

“There will be no breaking away. There will be no wandering off. There will be no talking.” The guard jerked a finger at his ear. “I have the hearing of a killer whale. You won’t be able to get anything past me.”

Waverly looked away, trying to seem unimpressed.

“Hut two three four!” he shouted, as though he were leading the girls in a splendid game. The girls streamed behind him in a double line. Waverly had hoped both guards would stay up front so that she could talk to Sarah and Samantha, but one of them took up the rear. She could feel his eyes on her as she limped along, leaning on her cane.

They trooped through the corridors, coiling up the belly of the ship until they reached a room in the administrative section. There were no portholes, it was stuffy, and the lights were dim. Arranged in rows were small desks and chairs identical to the school desks on the Empyrean, except that these were pristine—no graffiti, no dents, no signs of use at all.

The guard handed a piece of paper to Amanda, whose shoulders caved when she saw it. She cast an angry glare at the guard but seemed resigned as she announced, “Girls, we’ve created a seating chart to help me remember your names!” She directed each girl to her assigned chair, and by the time everyone was seated, Waverly was in the back corner, Samantha in the front row on the opposite side of the room, and Sarah in the middle of the group. They couldn’t turn to face one another and were too far apart to whisper.