“They don’t care?” I said before popping the rest of the bacon into my mouth.
Bette, again, rolled her eyes before taking the smallest bite of eggs imaginable. Like me, she must have determined they were edible, because her next bite was bigger, and silence settled over us as she got busy eating. It was broken only a few minutes later, though, when multiple chimes sounded at once, the loudest one coming from my wristband. It was eight o’clock.
Like last night, multiple women lifted their arms to check their bands. I did the same, taking note of my temperature, which was no different than it had been the night before. Good. Hopefully I’d be able to get a little used to this place before another big change was thrown my way.
Bette was frowning when I looked her way once again. “It’s that time again, huh?”
“Not quite,” I said, “but soon.”
She ran her hand over her stomach, frowning like she was thinking about what would happen once her baby was born. I had no doubt that they’d make her stay, but it had me wondering what would happen if she hadn’t wanted to keep the baby. Would she get to go home? What about the baby? Would the government adopt him or her out the way they’d planned, or would they keep the baby here until the pandemic petered out?
I was sure we’d find out the answers to some of those questions at the briefing, but I had a feeling a lot of it was going to remain a mystery for at least a little longer.
Thirty
Like the night before, the minders were quick to tell us what we were supposed to do when breakfast was finished.
“Everyone should head to the banquet hall at the other end of the wing for the official briefing,” a woman with serious eyes but a kind voice said as we scraped our leftover food into the trashcan. “Sergeant Collins will address everyone shortly.”
“Who do you think does the cooking and cleaning?” I asked as Bette and I left the dining room, headed for the banquet hall. “Not the minders and not the soldiers, either.”
She glanced over her shoulder toward the buffet table, her mouth turned down. “There must be staff to do that kind of stuff. Someone we haven’t seen yet.”
“Must be,” I replied distractedly.
We weren’t alone on our walk through the hotel, but Bette and I kept to ourselves. Quite a few of the other women looked as ready to pop as my friend, while others were either barely showing or in that strange stage where you couldn’t quite tell if they were pregnant or had just packed on a few extra pounds. There were plenty of women, though, who didn’t look pregnant at all.
Chairs had been set up in the banquet hall, and around half of them were already occupied when Bette and I stepped into the room. I scanned the crowd as I moved down a mostly unoccupied aisle, searching for Malika or someone else from our group. When I spotted Ivy two rows in front of us, I suddenly realized I hadn’tseen Ginger since we got here. I also couldn’t help thinking about how mouthy she’d been and the minder’s warning from the night before. I hoped nothing had happened to Ginger.
Malika came in a few minutes after us, nodding to me as she followed a group of women down the aisle behind us and took a seat. I drummed my fingers against my knees impatiently as the minutes ticked by, anxious to get the meeting started. And over with. When the minders began to file in, I knew it was close to time. They were followed by armed soldiers.
I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the situation. Were they here because the Department of Fertility thought we might riot at the injustice of the situation? If so, that was crazy. None of this was fair, but we were in no position to overthrow the people in charge. Even if they hadn’t been armed, all the soldiers were men, and we were in the middle of nowhere thousands of miles from home. Even if we somehow managed to take over, we had nowhere to go.
When I spotted Ramirez among the soldiers, I sat up straighter. He was wearing his mask, but the expression in his dark eyes told me that for once, he wasn’t smiling. He looked so serious. Was it because of this meeting or something else?
The only thing that could have pulled my attention from Ramirez was the arrival of Sergeant Collins. A hush fell over the room as he made his way to the front, a woman in her fifties at his side. They were deep in conversation, but even with the intense silence that followed their entrance, I couldn’t make out their words. I did notice, however, the air of authority the woman wore. She must have been in charge of the minders.
Again, I thought ofThe Handmaid’s Taleand Aunt Lydia, and how cruel and unforgiving she’d been – and all under the guise of doing God’s will. At least we didn’t have that malarky to contend with.
Once Collins and the unnamed woman reached the front of the room, their conversation stopped. She stepped back, making it clear that while she was in charge of the minders, Collins was the real authority here.
“Ladies!” he began, his voice booming through the roomeven without the aid of a microphone. “Thank you all for being so cooperative last night and for being prompt this morning. I understand you’re all confused, and you have a lot of questions, and let me assure you, we are going to do our best to address each and every one of them. The first and most important thing you need to know, however, is that while the Department of Fertility doesn’t savor having to sequester you like this, we are doing it for the good of the human race. With this new pandemic, the threat of extinction is now greater than ever, and we must do everything in our power to protect our most vital assets. You.”
“Typical party line,” someone behind me muttered.
“We know that many of you have loved ones you’ve left behind,” Collins continued, “and that you’re anxious to make sure they know you’re okay and to find out how they’re faring. We will, of course, make sure this happens as soon as possible, but as you are all certainly aware at this point, there is no cell phone reception or WIFI. Unfortunately, because this building has been out of commission for so long, the landline also isn’t working.” Collins raised his hands when a low grumble rose from the crowd. “Believe me when I tell you that we are all feeling that loss. You’re not the only ones who’ve left people behind. The soldiers around you, as well as the brave women the Department of Fertility has employed to be your minders, have all left husbands, wives, and children behind, but they’ve done it eagerly and without complaint because they understand what is at stake. You must keep that in mind and bear with us in the following days. Because that is how long it may take for us to establish communication with the outside. Days.”
“Bullshit,” someone to my right whispered. “There’s no way they aren’t in touch with home.”
I couldn’t help agreeing with that.
“Once we have a working landline,” Collins went on, “there will be a schedule that will allow everyone to touch base with the people they left behind. I will warn you, however, that these calls will be monitored. With this new pandemic, the anti-fertility Act zealots have come out of the woodwork, and we must do everything in our power to ensure they don’t find out where weare. For your safety. Which is also why we have armed soldiers here.”
People looked around, some angry while others appeared concerned. Scared, even. I was with the first group. I was pissed, and I also wasn’t stupid. The soldiers weren’t here to protect us from activists. They were here to make sure we understood just how little freedom we had.
“While you’re here,” Collins said, shifting topics like he wanted to take the attention off the armed soldiers, “you’ll continue to fulfill your commitment to the program. We’ve brought in doctors and nurses from around the country, flown in medical equipment, and have taken every step to make sure we continue to save the human race. Now more than ever, your country needs you.”
It was the kind of statement a commanding officer would make to his troops just before an epic battle where the odds of them coming out of it alive were slim to none. But this wasn’t a war, at least not in that sense, and it didn’t conjure any patriotic feelings within me. Quite the opposite, actually. It made me loathe the man at the front of the room and the country that would force me into this situation.
