Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles) (9 page)

“That’s exactly what I asked.” She was satisfied her friend reaction was the same. “As for the who, it seems the Temple’s doctors are involved—”

“The Priestess’s Temple?” Verena couldn’t contain her surprise and stood without warning, sending Marie down on the bed.

Marie managed not to roll off the bed and started laughing, rocking her body back and forth and almost falling again. She laughed until she cried.

Verena patiently waited until she was done and then when Marie raised her eyes to her, she gave her a stern look. “I don’t see how what I said could be so funny.”

“You repeated my question, word for word.” She cleaned the tears with her sleeve. The idea that none of this was funny at all did pass her mind, but it only made her want to laugh again. “Hormones.” She breathed in and out and finally answered her friend’s question. “Yes, the Priestess’s Temple.”

“Are you sure the Temple’s doctors are involved with workers…?” Verena looked outraged.

“Rane thinks so. I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“And why?” Verena sat back on the edge of the bed, looking directly at Marie.

“As for the why, according to Rane, they’re experimenting with fertility drugs to increment—” She couldn’t bring herself to say the last words, but Verena understood and blushed.

“No!” Verena mirroring Marie’s reaction to the letter brought her hands to her mouth and stifled a cry. “That can’t be! The Temple is the holiest of places.”

“Could you work for Rane?” Marie abruptly asked. The question burned a trail from her heart to her stomach.

“Is she talking about this kind of thing all the time?” Verena inched closer to her.

“Not all the time.” Marie wanted to be fair. “I thought you knew what kind of person she is.” Since everybody had known about Redfarm’s habit of sending trainees to work on men first, why not knowing about Rane’s unorthodox agenda?

“Obviously, only a few people know about that. No wonder Carnia didn’t want to leave the infirmary…” Verena moved on the bed and went to sit with her back against the wall, mirroring Maria.

“Would you work with her?” She shifted uncomfortably, averting her friend’s eyes.

“You’re asking because?”

In moments like these, Marie was reminded that Verena was older than she was and she felt silly. “Because I still want to work there.”

“Then you shouldn’t mind what Rane says.” Verena pulled her close and let Marie’s head rest on her arm, both of them with their backs to the wall.

Marie, who had gone from laughing hysterically to worried and sad in the span of a sentence, breathed in relief. “Do you think people will think I’m a… men lover?” She whispered the last part.

“People will think what they want to think.” It was Verena’s turn to shrug. “I wouldn’t judge you for it.”

Marie had thought about that. Verena was as normal as they get, but had defended Carnia’s blasphemous relationship. “But I would never, ever be one of them.”

“Sometimes, you don’t decide whom you want to be with.” Verena hugged her closer and kissed her head in that sisterly way of hers.

Marie was relieved by her words, but Verena still remained a mystery to her. She wouldn’t get caught thinking about a man, but she was the most tolerant person she knew. “Why are you like this?”

Verena distanced herself from Marie and smiled. “Like what?” But from the smirk she couldn’t hide, she knew what Marie had asked.

“So good to people, even people like Carnia.” She didn’t want to know why, but it was important to her Verena answered with the truth.

“It’s easier to be nice.” She gave Marie a smile. “Come here.” Verena pulled her back to her side and they stood still, silently looking at the wall in front of them. “We should hang something there. I didn’t know it was so depressing to look at.”

They both started laughing and kept laughing for a while.

The morning after, Marie entered the infirmary with a new resolution and didn’t waste time waiting for the right moment to communicate it to Rane. “I won’t be intimidated by your talk, but I would appreciate you minding your words.” She spoke slowly, deliberately enunciating the letters.

“Are you done?” Rane, who hadn’t even had time to acknowledge her presence, looked at her from the medicinal cabinet she was restocking and then pointed at one cart topped with a big piece of meat and surgical instruments.

“Yes—” Marie was taken aback by the doctor’s reaction. She had expected to have to work it out longer.

“You’ll practice stitches on the roast beef.” Rane moved items on the shelf level to her eyes.

Marie went to look at the piece of bloody meat and wore the gloves, but didn’t know what to do next.

“Make a deep incision with the scalpel.” Rane opened a box at her feet and extracted a few books from it. “What are you waiting for?”

Marie was gingerly holding the scalpel, but she hadn’t reached for the meat and was startled by the doctor’s abruptness. She didn’t want to be told off twice though and focused on the task ahead. “Like this?” A large, deep gap now marred the meat.

Rane gave one brief look and nodded. “Now, start closing it again like you saw me doing the other day.”

Marie washed the scalpel and then came back to grab needle and thread. Forehead wrinkled in deep concentration, her fingers carefully went back and forth, threading in and out of the two ridges of separated tissue. Some time later, she gave one final stitch and raised her head to find Rane not two feet away from the cart, intently looking first at her handiwork and then at her.

“You’re a natural, of that I’m sure.” She sighed. “You could be invaluable to me.” Arms folded on her back, she paced a few steps. “I’d hate to lose you.”

Marie wanted to reply she didn’t have to, but the infirmary door opened and two guards escorted in two men: Grant and another man Grant supported through the door.

“Same stomach virus the workers had yesterday,” one of the two guards said when Rane asked what symptoms the man had.

The other guard made sure Grant was at her side as soon as he left the worker on one of the beds.

Marie had her eyes on him the whole time, hoping she could say something to him, but the guard had him to the door in no time. He was almost out when he tripped and almost fell.

He turned to face Marie, and while regaining his balance, he mouthed, “Thank you,” a second before the guard shouted how clumsy and useless he was. The door closed behind him and she heard a thump followed by a muffled cry. Breath coming in shallow bouts, she fought the urge to run after them and see if he was all right.

“He’s strong and still very useful. They wouldn’t hurt him badly.” Rane was at the worker’s bedside already administering fluids and asking questions. “I see. Another victim of the
virus
.” She lowered the hem of the shirt she had lifted to check his back.

Marie wasn’t sure if the first part of what she had said was directed at her. Maybe she wasn’t as discreet as she had thought in showing her emotions and Rane had seen right through her. Or maybe it was a coincidence and she had read too much in the doctor’s words.
She’ll drive me crazy. I’m driving myself crazy.
This wasn’t the first time she wondered about her sentiments and how people would react to them. Finally, her worries over Grant won over the rest of her rational thinking. “Young workers are treated differently than the older?” Still, she couldn’t bring herself to be direct.

“As long as they’re needed, they’re fine.” Rane shook her head and then added, “Well, fine isn’t the right word, but you get what I mean. They aren’t treated as bad as the ones that are no longer useful.” She raised one eyebrow. “You asked.”

Marie nodded. She had asked knowing the answer already. Partially reassured Grant would be okay for the time being, she redoubled her efforts to get on Rane’s good side. The day at the infirmary went better than she had expected, and she finished her shift having learned how to stitch almost to perfection. Rane had her practicing the whole day by cutting the same piece of meat everywhere until there was no whole tissue left to slash.

Once out of the infirmary, instead of going to the cafeteria, she ran outside to the courtyard, the piece of marzipan retrieved from her cubicle when Rane was too busy with a patient and secured inside her dress’ front pockets. She’d been thinking about the small square the whole time and now she wanted to savor it alone. Safely hidden by the mulberry trees’ foliage, she sat inside the natural gazebo and slowly unwrapped her gift, her mouth salivating at the thought. She bit the smallest piece out of it and let it melt on her tongue, the sweetness and smoothness of the almond paste making her moan.

“I knew it was the right gift for you.” Grant stood a few feet from her hiding spot, just outside the trees’ canopy but sheltered by its shadow and the safety of the building wall.

She saw his smile and the way his eyes shone bright and made her smile back. “Love marzipan.”

“I’m glad I could get some for you.” He stepped under the canopy and went to sit by her side, his legs close to hers but not touching.

“I’m glad you stole some for me.” She couldn’t help to rectify his statement, but her tone was light and he laughed. She was happy about that.
I like his smell,
she caught herself thinking and almost said it out loud. “Would you like a bite?” She offered the tiny morsel on her outstretched palm.

He made to push her hand away, then shook his head without reaching for her. “It’s just for you, but thank you.”

 Marie felt disappointment grow inside of her. “Have you had news from Carnia?” And there she had asked the only question she didn’t want to hear the answer to. She normally wasn’t so irrational.

Grant hesitated and then raked his hand through his hair. “No. I was hoping you’d have some…”

All of a sudden, the sweetness lingering in her mouth soured. Marie lowered the piece of marzipan on her lap, her temper rising, her eyes stinging. She was aware she started it, but it didn’t lessen the dark coil from tightening inside her stomach. “Don’t know anything about her. Already told you we weren’t friends.”

“Yes, I remember.” He scooted away, as if her mood had created a rejecting wall. “It’s not why I sent you the gift though.”

She frowned, liking the sound of what he was saying, but afraid he would crush her hope with the next word. “Why did you?”

“Because you helped me even though you don’t like Carnia or me. You didn’t rat me out and you took care of me at the infirmary. I wanted to thank you for that.” Grant slowly moved closer to her as if testing the waters. “Nothing more.”

In the span of a moment, her mood had lifted again. “You’re welcome.” She didn’t rectify him this time. She didn’t like Carnia, and she was starting to understand why. It scared her.

“Must go…” He stood up but didn’t leave, his mouth open and silent.

Marie wanted him to stay a moment longer, but noises from the farm brought her back to a reality where she was willingly having a conversation with a worker. “Go!” She watched as he disappeared behind the corner, the dark shadows safely wrapping his tall figure, and then she went back inside, uncertain steps leading her way.

Later, back in her room, alone—Verena had left to run an errand for some elders—Marie lay on her bed and had time to think about her day while staring at the ceiling. Grant was the ever-present thought from which every other thought derived. She had let go of any pretense of not wanting to think of him. Finally, she had to accept she liked thinking of him.
Could I like him?
It was a blasphemous thought and it still made her feel dirty, but there was no way around it. Otherwise, why would she get so riled up when Carnia was mentioned? She had been so sure of Idra’s affection. She had never felt the sting of jealousy. It was such an unpleasant, dark, diminishing feeling and she hated everything about it. ‘”What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know. Something bothering you?” Verena was staring down at her.

“Not sure.” Marie had vaguely heard her coming this time, but hadn’t bothered silencing her voice. “How’s Darlene?”

Verena blushed and retreated to go sit on her bed. “How do you know the errand was for her?”

Marie turned on her side to look at her. “Please.” She raised one eyebrow and whirled her hand in the air. “Why are you still wasting your time with a girl like her?”

“I don’t have a choice.” Verena shrugged, sadness emanating from her in waves.

“We always have a choice.” Marie’s voice sounded harsh even to herself and one look at her friend confirmed it. She regretted her words but couldn’t take them back.

In contrast, Verena’s rebuke was soft. “Not when you’re in love with someone.”

“I think we’ve already talked about this.” Marie dismissed her before they would delve into the anguish of unrequited affects. “Changing subject, if I had any doubt the women knew there was no mysterious virus attacking healthy workers, I got proof now. Two guards came down to the infirmary escorting two men and they wore no masks or gloves to protect themselves from getting sick.”

“Experimenting on men isn’t right. I know they’re men, but—” Verena was playing with her hair, coiling and uncoiling her luscious tresses.

“They’re still human beings.” Again, Marie’s voice came out louder than the situation asked for.

A series of shots reverberated from outside. Both Marie and Verena hurried to the window. They didn’t have time to see what was happening before a second round followed and then a third and fourth in rapid succession. Finally, the alarm siren came alive and covered every other sound.

“What?” Marie looked at Verena. The frightened look in her friend’s eyes scared her.

They stood like that, frozen, for a long moment, then started firing questions at each other, shouting to be heard over the loud noise. Once in a while, Marie would look at the glass panel, hoping the darkness outside would lighten and show her what was happening on the ground. Meanwhile, the buildings in front of them had come alive. People appeared at the lit windows, anxious faces scanning the night for answers. A girl holding hands over her ears was rushed back inside by one of her mothers; the other remained to watch over the farm. The alarm was abruptly shut off, but it took several minutes before Marie’s heart slowed down. One by one, the opposite buildings’ lights were shut off as well, and she turned to face the normalcy of her room.

In the awkward silence that followed the blaring of the siren, a knock resonated from the hallway and startled Marie and Verena. Before they could answer, a girl flew into their room. “Rane wants you downstairs. Immediately.”

Marie gave one look at Verena, who nodded at her and then followed the messenger. The girl didn’t know anything. “I was just told by Madame Lana to get you there.”

“Madame Lana?” Marie was surprised the command had come from the rector, but the girl was reluctant to talk. Either she didn’t know anything or she had orders not to say more than necessary. Her ears still ringing, Marie was disoriented by the absence of life permeating the building. Normally, girly chatting would be heard reaching the stairs from the dormitories. The silence was eerie and she was scared by the stillness in the air. At the infirmary door, the girl without a name—she hadn’t offered one and Marie hadn’t asked—left her with a nod and a “good luck.”

“Are you out there?” Rane’s voice cut through the wall and there was a note of panic in it Marie couldn’t ignore.

She entered the room to find a scene she couldn’t understand. Everywhere she looked, there were wounded men. Some of them looked too broken and pale to be alive. Others were crying. One wailed, right there before her eyes. A sound she had never heard before. She froze. Rane ran to the man.

“Need help here.” The doctor screamed to be heard and several workers stepped forward and hurried to her. “Keep him down.” The men crowded around the doctor and bent over the worker who had let out that horrible cry a moment earlier.

Marie felt threatened by the army of men filling the room. Her legs didn’t want to sustain her, and she was sweating.

“Marie! Come here!” Rane was hidden behind the wall of men, but her voice was loud and clear.

Marie tried to walk, but the trembling in her legs worsened. Someone approached her but stopped a few inches away from her. She turned and saw Grant.

“Don’t be scared.” He raised one hand as if to reach for her, but let it fall by his side as he had done earlier.

“I can’t help it.” She hated to admit that, but most of all she hated to admit the fact she had longed for his touch.

“It’s okay. It’s understandable.” Although he looked tense, his voice was warm.

She focused on the calming quality of his voice. “I’m better.”

Grant tilted his head toward the corner where the doctor was. “Are you going to be okay?”

Marie nodded.

“I’ll be around if you need me.” His hand hovered close to her arm, but once again, he lowered it and slowly walked away from her.

She went to don her scrubs and gloves, her eyes on him the whole time.

“Marie! I really need you here. Now!” Rane emerged, the men opening to give Marie space.

She looked down at the thrashing figure on the floor. “What’s happening to him?” The man’s eyes were wide, his mouth was open, and a foamy trickle ran from his bottom lip to his chin.

“Gas.” Rane beckoned her to come closer to the man. “Take that belt and put it between his teeth.”

“I heard shooting…” Helped by one of the workers who kept the man’s mouth open for her, Marie inserted the belt as the doctor had asked. She removed her fingers a moment before the man closed his jaws around the leather strip and his head shot backward.

“He was one of the lucky ones who got gassed,” the worker who had helped her said.

One brief look at the rest of the room and then at back at the worker, she saw he wasn’t being sarcastic. “Why?”

“A small group of workers were caught trying to break free and the rest of them fought the women to give their mates time to clear the breach in the wall.” Rane emptied the whole content of a syringe into the man’s right arm and waited a few seconds for the thrashing to diminish. The man relaxed on her arms and she sighed in relief. “Thank the Goddess, I thought he was gone.”

Memories of the conversation Marie had heard only recently came back to her. “Did any of them…?” She wasn’t sure she should be asking those kinds of questions.

“None of the workers who were trying to escape survived.” Another of the men surrounding the doctor raised his head to look at Marie.

“I’m sorry.” She lowered her head, soaking in the sadness permeating the room. It was a palpable element, impossible to tune out. It wasn’t just the cries or the moaning. The despair and the hopelessness hung heavily over her heart and darkly colored her thoughts.

“Triage all the new arrivals.” Rane, followed by the same handful of workers, went to the next patient, a man who lay preternaturally still on a stretcher, blood dripping from a gun wound to his left leg. A small pool of dark-red, viscous fluid had formed on the tiled floor.

Marie averted her eyes. “We’re expecting other patients?” She had thought the whole farm’s male population was already there. She hadn’t finished asking when the infirmary’s door opened. Several men entered the room in haste, some showing wounds so severe she wondered how could they be walking, let alone carrying others. Pain etched in their faces, they were careful not to mishandle the unconscious in their care, but they left bloodied prints in their wake. The dreadful parade was closed by five guards ready to shoot anybody who disobeyed. Marie saw how the men at the back of the line trembled any time the women raised their guns or used them to better convey their orders. One of the improvised porters stumbled and almost dropped his cargo. She was at his side without thinking, helping him up by hoisting his weight with her whole body. She was taken aback by how heavy he was, but what surprised her the most was the terrified face the man made a moment before understanding she didn’t mean to harm him.

“Why are you wasting time and effort on these animals?” the oldest guard asked Marie, her cold, blue eyes staring unblinkingly at her. The focus of her disgust seemingly limitless. “I can’t believe you found another willing to help you,” she said to Rane, but still looking at Marie, her patrician features expressing her feelings as well as her tone.

From the number of barrettes on the woman’s grey-and-black, tightly fitting uniform, Marie knew she was the one in charge. The pure breed guard, captain, or lieutenant—Marie could never remember the order—coiled and uncoiled a whip around her hand in a sickening display of power. The man Marie was holding stepped back and tripped again, his body shaking in fear. She let him go, her own limbs slightly trembling. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in the presence of a pure breed, but she had never interacted with one before. The kid-snatchers—as she called the pure breeds who visited the Institute—rarely exchanged words with the girls.

“Do you have an estimate of how many men you’re sending here, Callista?” Rane, displaying an impressive calm given the way the pure breed had addressed her, gave the woman a brief nod in salute and then turned to face her patient once again.

So you’re the famous Captain Callista.
Marie had heard of her since the first day at Redfarm and wondered about the woman. Now, she was more interested in understanding what kind of relation there was between the doctor and the officer if Rane could use her given name with such familiarity.

“We should be done soon.” The pure breed seemed annoyed by the doctor’s lack of proper fear. “There aren’t many left standing anyway.” A malevolent glee illuminated her blue eyes.

Marie shivered even though she wasn’t under the woman’s stare anymore.

“Send them over once and for all, then. Haven’t you had enough fun already?” Rane kept her body at an angle, her face hidden from the pure breed, but visible to Marie who saw how repulsed she was and how her words betrayed a history between the two.

Callista raised one meticulously trimmed eyebrow—probably to maximize the sharp angles of her high cheekbones—and shot back immediately. “At my own pace, mind you, dear Rane. And be thankful I’ve already taken care of the lame and old—”

“Have you? How considerate.” She dragged her last words more than necessary and closed her right hand in a fist only Marie could see. “Have you informed the morgue already?”

“No need to waste your time in expensive and useless autopsies. I’ve sent orders to dig a mass grave outside in the desert. Much more practical, don’t you think?” Callista waited for a response from Rane, and when the doctor remained silent, she turned on her heels, the clicking of her steel-reinforced boots accompanying her exit.

Marie watched as the pure breed was silently followed by her minions. A collective sigh of relief became audible when the door closed behind them. A loud clank made her jump out of her skin and she swung toward the point of origin of the noise. A tray of surgical instruments lay on the floor by Rane’s feet and she looked distressed. Marie ran toward her. “Let me—”

Rane looked at Marie as if she had forgotten she was there too. “Thanks.” Her voice shook and she couldn’t keep still.

Marie picked up the instruments, placed them back on the tray, careful not to cut her fingers with the knives’ sharp edges, then located the big pot Rane used as a sterilizer and dumped the contents of the tray in it. She tried to assess what she should do first, but after one gaze at the room, now overcrowded, she felt lost.

Rane had slowly composed herself and was now bent over a man who was holding the left side of his stomach with both hands. “I wish I could do more for you.”

Marie felt sad at the doctor’s statement. She met Grant’s eyes for a moment and saw the rage burning in them. She understood him.

“Can you give this man something for the pain?” He looked down and she saw him carefully holding someone’s hand in his.

“Yes—” She was going to ask Rane permission to give the man a painkiller, but then thought better of it and went for the cabinet where all the medicines were kept. From the cries escaping the man’s mouth, his pain must have been excruciating. If she wanted to become a nurse, she had to also to become accustomed to making decisions. Better sooner than later. “Here.” She brought the two innocuous-looking pills to the man’s mouth.

“Are they strong enough?” Grant didn’t seem impressed by the medication’s appearance.

“Opiate,” was all she said, wondering if maybe she had brought too much. The man gave a shout that pierced her ears and she felt better. “Enough, but the effect won’t be immediate. The pills need to break down in his stomach.”

Grant whispered something to the man and then looked at her. “How long?”

“Twenty, thirty minutes.” She pulled the answer from what Rane had recently told her and her memory of the first time she had taken a painkiller for a strong headache. Madame Carla would have never permitted her to contaminate the holiness of her body with anything chemical. She had felt guilty at ingesting the medicine for a whole half an hour. Then the headache had lulled to nothing more than an afterthought and she had wondered why on Ginecea Madame Carla didn’t believe in painkillers. “Nothing else we can do for him, but talk to him and try to distract him from his pain.”