Authors: Octavia E. Butler
Tags: #Fiction, #Alternative History, #Science Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Historical
Something I would have expected to hear in Emma's voice but not his. "Yeah," I said
softly. "Of course you know. You even said it yourself a couple of minutes ago. It must
have come as kind of a shock to you that after four thousand years, your work, your
children, were suddenly as finished as you could make them. That they . . . didn't need
you any more."
He gave me a look of pure hatred. I think he was as close to taking me at that moment
as he had ever been. I touched his hand.
"Join us, Doro. If you destroy us, you'll be destroying part of yourself. All the time
you spent creating us will be wasted. Your long life, wasted. Join us."
The hatred that had flared in his eyes was concealed again. I suspected it was more
envy than hatred. If he had hated me, I would already have been dead. Envy was bad
enough. He envied me for doing what he had bred me to do—because he was incomplete,
and he would never be able to do it himself. He got up and walked out of my room.
KARL
In only ten days Karl knew without doubt that Mary's suspicions had been justified.
She wasn't going to be able to obey Doro. She had begun sensing latents again without
intending to, without searching for them. Sooner or later she was going to have to begin
pulling them in again. And the day she did that would very likely be the day she died.
She and how many others?
Karl watched her with growing concern. She was like a latent now, trying to hold
herself together, and no one knew it but she and Karl. She kept shielded, and she was
actress enough to conceal it from the others—except possibly Doro. And Doro didn't
care.
Mary had already talked to him and been refused. That tenth night, Karl went in to
talk to him. He pleaded. Mary was in trouble. If she could even be given a small quota of
the latents that Doro valued least—
"I'm sorry," said Doro. "I can't afford her unless she can obey me."
It was a dismissal. The subject was closed. Karl got up wearily and went to Mary's
room.
She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Just staring. She did not move as
he came to sit beside her, except to take his hand and hold it.
"What did he say?" she asked.
"You've been reading me," he said mildly.
"If I had, I'd know what he said. I was coming upstairs a few minutes ago. I saw you
go into his room." She sat up and looked at him intently. "What did he say, Karl?"
"He said no."
"Oh." She lay down again. "I knew damned well he would. I just keep hoping."
"You're going to have to fight."
"I know."
"And you're going to win. You're going to kill him. You're going to do whatever you
have to do to kill him!"
Like a latent, she turned onto her side, clutched her head between her hands, and
curled her body into a tight knot.
The next day, Karl called the family together. Mary had gone to see August, and Karl
wanted to talk to the others before she returned. She would find out what had been said.
He planned to tell her himself, in fact. But he wanted to talk to them first without her.
They already knew why Mary had called in her searchers. They didn't like it. Mary's
enthusiasm over the Pattern's growth had infected them long ago. Now Karl told them
that Mary's submission could not last. That Mary's own needs would force her to disobey,
and that when she disobeyed, Doro would kill her. Or try to.
"It's possible that with our numbers we can help her defeat him," Karl said. "I don't
know how she'll handle things when the time comes, but I have a feeling she'll want to
get as many of the people away from the section as she can. Doro has told us that actives
couldn't handle themselves in groups before the Pattern. I know Mary's afraid of the
chaos that might happen here if she's killed while we're all together. So I think she'll try
to give the people some warning to get out of Forsyth, scatter. If any of you want to
scatter with them, she'll almost certainly let you go. The idea of other Patternists dying
either because she dies or because she takes too much strength from them is bothering her
more than the thought of her own death."
"Sounds like you're telling us to cut and run," said Jesse.
"I'm offering you a choice," said Karl.
"Only because you know we won't take it," said Jesse.
Karl looked from him to the others, let his gaze pass over them slowly.
"He speaks for all of us," said Seth. "I didn't know Mary was in trouble. She hides
things too well sometimes. But now that I do know, I'm not going to walk out on her."
"And how could I leave the school?" said Ada. "All the children . . ."
"I think Doro has made a mistake," said Rachel. "I think he's waited too long to do
this. I don't see how any one person could resist so many of us. I don't even see why we
have to risk Mary, since she's the only one of us who's irreplaceable. If the rest of us got
together and—"
"Mary says that wouldn't work," said Karl. "She says it wouldn't even work against
her."
"Then, we'll all have to give her our strength."
"To be honest, she's not sure that will work either. Doro says strength alone isn't
enough to beat him. I suspect he's lying. But the only way to find out for sure is for her to
tackle him. So she will gather strength from some or all of us when the time comes.
We're the only weapons she has."
"If she's not careful," said Jesse, "she won't have time to try it—or time to warn the
people to scatter. Doro knows she's in trouble, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
"He might decide there's no point in waiting for her to break."
"I've thought about that," said Karl. "I don't think she'll let him surprise her. But, to be
sure, I'm going to start work on her tonight—talk her into going after him. Preparing
herself, and going after him."
"Are you sure you can talk her into it?" asked Jan.
"Yes." Karl looked at her. "You haven't said anything. Are you with us?"
Jan looked offended. "I'm a member of this family, aren't I?"
Karl smiled. Jan had changed. Her art had given her the strength that she had always
lacked. And it had given her a contentment with her life. She might even be a live woman
now, instead of a corpse, in bed. Karl wondered briefly but not seriously. Mary was
woman enough for him if he could find some way of keeping her alive.
"I think Doro has made more than one mistake," said Jan. "I think he's wrong to
believe that Mary still belongs to him. With the responsibility she's taken on for all that
she's built here, she belongs to us, the people. To all of us."
"I suspect she thinks it's the other way around," said Rachel. "But it wouldn't hurt if
we went to some of the heads of houses and said it Jan's way. They're our best, our
strongest. Mary will need them."
"I don't know whether I'll be able to get her to take them," said Karl. "I intend to try,
though."
"When Doro starts chewing at her, she'll take anybody she can get," said Jesse.
"If she has time, as you said," said Karl. "I don't want it to come to that. That's why
I'm going to work on her. And, look, don't say anything to the heads of houses. Word will
spread too quickly. It might spread to Doro. God knows what he'd do if he realized his
cattle had finally gotten the nerve to plot against him."
Chapter Twelve
MARY
When I woke up on the morning after Karl had talked to Doro, I found that my hands
wouldn't stop shaking. I felt the way I had a few days before my transition. With Karl, I
didn't even bother to hide it.
He said, "Open to me. Maybe I can help."
"You can't help," I muttered. "Not this time."
"Let me try."
I looked at him, saw the concern in his eyes, and felt almost guilty about doing as he
asked. I opened to him not because I thought he could help me but because I wanted him
to realize that he couldn't.
He stayed with me for several seconds, sharing my need, my hunger, my starvation.
Sharing it but not diminishing it in any way. Finally he withdrew and stood staring at me
bleakly. I went to him for the kind of comfort he could give, and he held me.
"You could take strength from me," he said. "It might ease your—"
"No!" I rested my head against his chest. "No, no, no. You think I haven't thought of
that?"
"But you wouldn't have to take much. You could—"
"I said no, Karl. It's like you said last night. I'm going to have to fight him. I'll take
from you then, and from the others. But not until then. I'm not the vampire he is. I give in
return for my taking." I pulled away from him, looked at him. "God, I've got ethics all of
a sudden."
"You've had them for some time, now, whether you were willing to admit to them or
not."
I smiled. "I remember Doro wondering before my transition whether I would ever
develop a conscience."
Karl made a sound of disgust. "I just wish Doro had developed one. Are you going
out?"
"Yes. To see August."
He didn't say anything to that, and I wondered whether he realized this might be my
last visit to our son. I finished dressing and left.
I saw August and spent some time strengthening Evelyn's programming, seeing to it
that she would go on being a good mother to him even if Karl and I weren't around. And I
planted some instructions that she wouldn't need or remember until August showed signs
of approaching transition. I didn't want her panicking then, and taking him to a doctor or
a hospital. Maybe I needn't have worried. Maybe Doro would see that he was taken care
of. And maybe not.
I went home and managed to get through a fairly ordinary day. I passed a man and a
woman to become heads of houses. They had been Patternists for over a year, and I read
just about everything they had done during that year. Karl and I checked all prospective
heads of houses. Back when we hadn't checked them, we'd gotten some bad ones. Some