Pandora's Genes (17 page)

Read Pandora's Genes Online

Authors: Kathryn Lance

BOOK: Pandora's Genes
8.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Let me worry about the women,” she said. “And be very sure about one thing. You will have none of them, ever. Do you understand?”

“My men will do as I say.”

“I wasn’t talking about your men.” She flashed him a look so chilling that for a moment he was back in the Garden as he remembered it, a young boy in a prison run by strict women with breasts and abdomens like pillows, an unwanted slave, who would never be given the key to the mysteries locked in their rooms and bodies. The long-ago fear turned to a hatred so intense it brought him suddenly to himself.

“Have no fears, old woman,” he said, returning her look. “Your little flowers are safe from me.”
For as long as you live
, he thought. And from the look of you, that won’t be long. And then – well, he was the Principal. He had all the resources of the District behind him, and within his own laws, nothing would prevent him from taking the girl with the plum-colored eyes.

The council was little changed from the meetings he had witnessed as a young boy, watching from behind windows or partly closed doors.

There were more women here now, but there was the same spirit of chaos, the high-pitched excitement and arguing of every view. The result was that it took hours to decide a matter that should have been settled by one bold decision. As the old woman had predicted, the strongest voice in opposition to the move was that of Katha: he could almost sympathize with her as she watched her rule slipping away.

It was foregone from the beginning that he would win, one way or the other; and the Principal sat silent, only answering questions, trying not to show his growing impatience. If there were only some way for men to reproduce without the help of women, he’d be more than happy to see the whole lot of them die out.

At last the vote was taken, and, inevitably, it was in favor of leaving quietly, without a fight. Throughout the tally Katha sat silent, her grim face reflecting what she must be feeling.

The council members were all elders, adult and middle-aged, though none so old as the Mistress. He had hoped for another glimpse of the girl, Evvy, but had not really expected to see her here.

The faces were sad, some tear-streaked, when the meeting broke up, and he felt awkward as he prepared to leave. Katha rose as he did, and he thought for a moment she would offer her hand, but she stood stiffly while he walked to the door. For the first time he saw that her bandaged arm was badly hurt and must be paining her.

“We can give you an escort to your camp,” said the fat woman, Gunda.

“I know these woods well,” he answered.

His sense of triumph was physical: he could feel it, expanding in his abdomen and chest like warm air. He ran carelessly down the sloping trail, feeling almost as if he could fly. At last he had achieved his greatest conquest. From this time on, the women of the Garden and their work were under his rule absolutely.

The next morning the Principal gathered his troops and told them about the inhabitants of the Garden. At first the men were astonished and then excited at the prospect of guarding a compound full of women, but the Principal made it clear immediately that any man caught molesting any of the women would be executed at once.

The evacuation would take some time. Those soldiers who were to man the fortress would begin moving in as they helped the women to dismantle and load the many things which must be carried by the caravan of large wagons due to arrive from the Capital within a week. The women themselves were to carefully pack and hide all microscopes, books, and other equipment which would have identified their work as scientific.

The Mistress and Katha had both insisted that all men, including the Principal, be outside the compound by nightfall. They took care, too, to keep the younger girls strictly hidden from his soldiers. He had expected that, but even when he was busy with details, a part of him was excited by the thought that the astonishing young girl was nearby, perhaps looking at him secretly as she had that night in the lodge. It was difficult not to be impatient, but there would be time to think of how to take her after the evacuation was completed.

In any case, he would be very busy. While Red supervised the physical details of the move, the Principal directed a contingent of men in creating detailed maps of the entire surrounding countryside, up to and including the western border. This was not a formal border in any political sense, as was the border which separated his holdings from those of the Governor of the North; rather, it represented the extent of the area the Principal loosely controlled through patrols, taxation, and communications posts.

Now that he had the Garden, he could consolidate this part of the District and begin to move to the west, crushing as he did the Traders or any other tribe opposing the growth of his civilization.

The Principal had been in camp a week. He was completing the draft of a lengthy communiqué to Ralf, back in the Capital, explaining what had happened so far and giving instructions for further recruitment of troops, when Daniel and an older, grizzled soldier appeared at the opening of his tent.

“Pardon, sir,” said Daniel. “Buck has found something. I thought you should hear his report immediately.”

The Principal suppressed his annoyance. If it could wait, whatever it was, Daniel would not have interrupted.

Setting down his pen, he turned to the two men. “Report.”

“I was with a party of six,” said Buck, shifting from foot to foot. “We were doing what you instructed – mapping, looking for signs of Trader camps. We’d worked our way south along the lake into the swamps.” He stopped, and then, as the Principal nodded impatiently, went on slowly. “This is a deserted part of the world, as you know, sir. We hadn’t found much of anything. We were poking around in the marshes when I came upon a big pile of bones half-buried in the muck.”

The Principal frowned. “Were there signs that these were the remains of Traders?”

Daniel stepped forward. “Buck asked me to come out, in accordance with your instructions to investigate everything. We pulled the bones out of the swamp. It took a good while. When we were through we saw that the skeletons had once belonged to a very large man and a mount.”

The Principal felt suddenly cold. “There are many large men in the District,” he said.

“That is true, sir,” said Daniel. “But only one of them wore this ring.”

Daniel opened his hand and gave the Principal a heavy gold ring. On its raised face was carved the profile of the Principal. There was not another ring like it in the world.

“I’m sorry,” said Daniel.

The Principal nodded. He looked dumbly at the ring, which was still warm from Daniel’s hand.

“Was there any indication of how he died?”

“The bones are old,” said Daniel. “I’d say a year at least. The ribs are broken, but an animal could have done that after he died. We searched the area closely, but there was nothing else. Of course, loose weapons could have been taken by anyone.” He paused, then went on. “We left the other men to guard the bones. We thought you’d want to give them a proper burial.”

“Thank you,” said the Principal. “Both of you. Give me a minute. We’ll do it now.”

Looking distressed and embarrassed, the men stepped outside. The Principal looked after them a moment, then down at the ring. There could be no doubt now that Zach was dead. The certainty of it did not seem as shocking as had the first news that Zach was missing. Perhaps he had already given Zach up those many months ago, and his mourning was complete. In its place was anger, hard and tight and hot. Whoever had been responsible for Zach’s death – and it seemed likely now it must have been the Traders – would pay a thousand times over.

He opened his hand and looked at the ring again, then put it inside his personal pouch. Straightening, he stood and left for the burial.

Nine

 

F
ROM THE FIRST NIGHT THE
Principal arrived, Evvy had a picture of him always in her mind. Of course, he could have no way of knowing who she was or what she had done, but she couldn’t shake an eerie feeling that he somehow knew her.

For days she had been studying him in secret: from behind corners, through breaches in the wall, past shutters and curtains. His face fascinated her. He was so handsome as to be almost beautiful, yet there were harsh, determined lines in his cheeks and above his eyes. The irises of his eyes were so dark that they appeared to be all pupil: once, the first night he came, those eyes had met hers, and she had felt pinned like an insect, unable to move, until he had looked away. His eyes retained their intensity whether he was giving orders, laughing, or shouting in anger, all of which he did frequently, shifting from one mood to another easily and quickly. She had a feeling his face was a mask, something he put on, like the yellow-trimmed cape he wore to set himself apart from his men.

Evvy longed to ask the Mistress more about him; she was aware that there was some tie between them and had heard rumors that the Principal himself had lived in the Garden as a boy; it must have been here, in fact, that he and Zach had become friends. Yet she was afraid to speak of him, as if mentioning his name would give him her secrets.

The truth was that whenever Evvy saw the Principal or thought of him, she thought of Zach. Zach had been the Principal’s most trusted adviser and friend and had betrayed him because of her. The question was,
Why?
Katha and Gunda assumed that Zach had taken her because he wanted her for himself. But she knew that was not true, at least not in the sense they meant. Her feelings had been confirmed by the things the Mistress had told her about Zach’s wife and child.

Perhaps someday she might have been able to persuade Zach to renounce his vow; now, of course, it was too late. Even if he returned for her, she was a Daughter of the Garden, and, though some Daughters left the Garden and even married, it was only with the full approval of all the elder women, and never to a man whose wife had died of the woman sickness. Though she still believed that Zach was alive somewhere, he was lost to her, and all she could do now was to protect his memory by seeing to it that the Principal never learned who she was or what Zach had done. The Mistress, Katha, and Gunda were the only women here who knew Evvy’s true origin, and she was certain they would never reveal it.

The day before the march was to begin, the Principal invited all the women to attend a feast prepared by his men. To Evvy’s surprise, the Mistress accepted for the Garden.

Having finished some last-minute packing of equipment in the animal pens, Evvy went to the women’s wing to get her bathing things. She found Lucky there, sobbing into her pillow.

“Katha struck me,” the younger girl said. There was a faint red mark on the side of her face.

Evvy put her arms around Lucky and held her a moment. She had noticed Katha’s growing irritability. “What happened?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I was loading a wagon with Jinny. I didn’t even know Katha was there. All I said was I was glad we wouldn’t have to stand guard anymore, and Katha g-grabbed me and slapped me on the face.”

Evvy patted Lucky’s shoulder. “The move is hard for her,” she said. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Lucky wiped her eyes, then rolled over on her back. “Evvy?” she asked after a moment. “Are you going to the Principal’s party tonight?”

“Of course,” said Evvy. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” said Lucky. “I heard Katha saying we shouldn’t go, that it’s a trick. I’m afraid, but I want to see what it’s like.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” said Evvy. “We’ll go together, and if we don’t like it, we can leave.”

Lucky smiled assent, her recent tears completely forgotten. Evvy herself was not as calm as she appeared; she felt pulled in two directions. Part of her was consumed with curiosity about the Principal and his men, while another part was terrified at the thought of spending an evening in his company. The fact that all of the women had been invited – and her curiosity – won the battle. At last she would be able to observe him closely, safely anonymous among the other women.

“The Garden is a state of mind as much as it is a location,” the Principal was saying. “It is a place where ideas can live. Of all things in our society – more than buildings, more than laws, more than individual men and women – ideas determine our lives.”

Most of the Garden’s women and children were watching and listening attentively. Evvy, wrapped in a thick new-wool shawl, sat between the Mistress and Lucky. In front of them Baby lay curled, buzzing in contentment. On the other side of the large bonfire sat the soldiers. Most were bearded, like her first and second-fathers; a few others were clean-faced like the Principal. All were silent and motionless, their eyes fixed on their leader. The firelight blinked shadows onto his face as he talked and was reflected back by his dark eyes. Evvy squeezed Lucky’s hand, thrilled.

“The Garden has been here for two generations, ever since the Change,” he went on. “It was started by a small group of learned men and women – by teachers and thinkers – who knew that disasters like the escape of the wild deenas could never happen again, because the Change itself had made such accidents impossible. But they also knew that comfort, freedom from disease and poverty, many of the good things from before the Change, could perhaps one day be restored. These brave men and women determined to preserve as much as they could of the learning of the past so that someday that learning can be used again to help mankind. The people of the Garden have devoted their lives all these years to saving and trying to increase knowledge, so that someday life will be more as it was before the Change.”

He paused, and Evvy heard a murmur of voices. The Principal’s men were whispering among themselves, some glancing at him with frowns. She heard one gruff voice say loudly, “Sounds like science to me,” but the man was immediately silenced by his companions. The women were quiet, many of them looking surprised. The Mistress sat with her eyes closed, but Evvy knew that she was listening.

Other books

Alone Beneath The Heaven by Bradshaw, Rita
Kilts and Daggers by Victoria Roberts
Full Moon by Talbot Mundy
Spartan Frost by Estep, Jennifer
Chasing Payne by Seabrook, Chantel
To Die For by Linda Howard