In the After (24 page)

Next it showed a happy pregnant woman lying in a hospital bed, her belly swollen.
“All adult females are expected to carry a child to term once every three years unless
they are medically unfit to do so or have reached the age of forty. No one is allowed
to bear a child without genetic consideration and to do so will result in immediate
expulsion.”

It took me a minute to process what I was hearing but then my chest went cold. They
were forcing people to breed. Not only that, people weren’t even allowed to decide
who they had children with.
That was why my mother had Adam
.

“All adults have the right to petition the Committee for Genetic Diversity if they
wish to be parentally responsible for their offspring. Otherwise children produced
in New Hope are the wards of New Hope until they themselves become adults. Any adult
may choose expulsion at any time.”

The film ended the way that the others began: happy children playing.

“Rice.” I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. “That last bit, about the babies
. . . they can’t expect women to give birth every three years.”

“They do,” he confirmed. “Unless there is a medical risk.”

“So women don’t have control over their own bodies? When do you have to have your
first pregnancy?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Not until you become an adult.”

“At seventeen?”

He shrugged. “I submitted my genetic material last year. It’s not a big deal. Our
population’s up; the children are healthy.”

“Wait. You have children?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I never made an inquiry with the committee. I don’t want to petition
for parental rights, not until I’m . . . um, settled with someone.” He adjusted his
glasses awkwardly.

I stood, shaking. “This is too much. I need some fresh air,” I told him, motioning
for Baby to come with me. When I tried to open the door, it didn’t budge.

“It’s restricted,” Rice reminded me apologetically. He fished out his key card and
opened the door, leading us back outside. I sat on the ground, taking time to think.
Baby crouched next to me and held my hand. Rice waited patiently a few feet away.

There were so many secrets, so many rules. I understood the need for structure, but
how could they decide what a child is going to be when they’re in kindergarten? How
could they make some people work two or three jobs, while others only have to work
one? How could they tell people who they can have children with?

And forcing women to give birth, like we were nothing more than incubators. It made
sense, all the pregnant women in the cafeteria, in the Quad. I thought about my mother,
who turned forty this year. Adam was two. For some reason, this understanding made
me even more upset. She not only helped design our new society, she was also an outstanding
member who followed her own rules.

I stood up and walked over to Rice. “Who makes New Hope’s rules?” I asked. “My mother
is a scientist. . . . I don’t understand why she’s the director.”

“The director certainly has a say on regulations but she isn’t solely responsible
for the policies for New Hope,” Rice explained patiently. “She’s in charge of the
lab, the scientific sector. Dr. Reynolds is really the one—”

“Dr. Reynolds?” I interrupted him. “The creepy psychiatrist?”

He shook his head. “Dr. Reynolds isn’t creepy. And who better than a psychiatrist
to determine how a society should be structured?” he asked defensively. “We’re lucky
to have him. He was in New Hope when the Floraes came. He headed psy-ops for the military.
He’s a brilliant man. It’s like he can see into the core of people, determine what
we’re made of. He did it to me. He saw a lost, young orphan in me and decided I had
the potential to be more,” Rice told me passionately. “He’s the one who recommended
that Hutsen-Prime take me under their wing. He’s the one who has checked on me over
the years, made sure I had the best education, the best chance to succeed. And now
he’s molding New Hope. We have the ability to rebuild the world and make it better.”

I looked at Rice, horrified. After the propaganda speech, I didn’t think I could stand
to hear any more of the party line, even from someone I trusted.

The more I learned about New Hope, the less I saw my place there.

“Did Baby come to visit me today?” I ask Dr. Thorpe
.

“No, that was last week, Amy.” She hands me my pills and a cup of water, which I dutifully
swallow. I hate taking all this medicine. Nothing changes. I’m always confused; sometimes
I lose myself in a memory, only to forget a few seconds later what I was thinking
about. My time in New Hope is coming back to me slowly, but there’s so much I can’t
remember
.

I look at Dr. Thorpe and I know I can’t fight her on the drugs. They monitor me all
the time. “When will Baby be back?” I ask. “I think it will help with my treatment
if I can see her more often.”

“I’m not sure. Dr. Reynolds supervised the visit. He said it was too upsetting for
you. Maybe she’ll come again when you’re more stable.” She takes the empty cup, absently
looking at her clipboard
.

“And my mother?”

“Your mother is a very busy woman. She doesn’t have time to visit every day.”

I try to concentrate. My mother has always been busy, but she’d make time to see me,
wouldn’t she? Someone came today, but I can’t remember who exactly. They held my hand
.

“Who was here earlier?” I ask
.

She looks up at me, sharply. “That was Richard . . . you know, Rice. You had a very
nice visit with him. He likes you very much.”

“Yes, yes.” I burrow back under my covers. I like having visitors, even if I don’t
always remember who they are
.

“And what about Vivian? When did she come last?” I stop myself, thinking. “She hasn’t
been to see me at all, has she?”

Dr. Thorpe stops and sucks in a breath. “You don’t remember?”

I shake my head while she studies me for a moment, then turns slightly and touches
her earpiece
.

“Ms. Harris is not responding as well to her medication as we had first hoped.” She
talks about me as if I’m not here. Maybe I’m not. “We should start her shock treatments
as soon as possible.”

I take a deep breath, trying to keep my anxiety in check. “When?” I ask quietly. Either
Dr. Thorpe doesn’t hear me, or she ignores me. I stand, agitated, knocking into her
and making her drop her clipboard on the floor. She backs away from me with a frightened
look on her face. “Sorry.” I sit back down. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“It’s all right, Amy. You’re not well.” She retrieves her clipboard from the floor.
“We’ll talk more about your treatment another time,” she tells me before she leaves
the room
.

The door shuts with a loud
thud,
followed by a single
click.
I stand slowly and go to the door, trying the handle. It’s been locked from the outside.
Retreating to my bed, I place my head under the pillow and sob myself to sleep
.

• • •

“SURPRISE!”

We walked into the cafeteria and a roomful of people shouted at us. I let go of Baby’s
hand so she could cover her ears. I was still in shock when my mother came over to
hug me.

“I knew you could do it,” she whispered in my ear. “Advanced Theory! I’m very proud.”

She introduced me to her colleagues and other Class Five students she must have deemed
worthy. I lost track of Baby and panicked until I spotted her across the room, in
Rice’s arms.

There was a flat, slightly lumpy cake and a dark, carbonated liquid that tasted like
cola and root beer mixed together. This was really bad timing. I wanted nothing more
than to talk with my mother, alone, away from the eyes, and regulations, and colored
jumpsuits of New Hope.

“You know, when I made Advanced Theory, I didn’t get a party,” Vivian said behind
me. I turned to catch her with her eyebrows raised mockingly, her brown eyes shining.

“Yeah, this is fan,” I say sarcastically.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, lowering her voice. “You haven’t been asking about the
Floraes again, have you?”

“No, I just saw the orientation video. . . . I . . . it really got to me. New Hope.
Everything we have to do in order to stay here.”

“Yeah,” Vivian said carefully. “But it’s worth it.”

“Is it?”

Vivian grimaced and tugged at her necklace. “I’ll take New Hope any day over being
out there with the Floraes.”

“You don’t mind giving up your freedom?”

Vivian tilted her head. “You always have to give up some freedoms to live in any society.”

“But here, it’s all or nothing. It’s get in line or be sent to the Ward, or worse.”
I thought of being expelled, forced to leave the safety of New Hope. “They’re preying
on people’s fears to make them conform.” I knew I shouldn’t be talking about any of
this here and now, but it was just flowing out of me.

“Amy, it
is
all worth it,” Vivian whispered desperately, wanting me to understand. “I would trade
almost anything to be safe. Think about it. What are you really giving up? So, they
make you work, make you exercise, make you live up to your potential—is that really
so bad?”

“But you can’t even decide who you have children with.” I glanced around the room,
at least a quarter of the women were pregnant. Several looked like they weren’t much
older than me.

Vivian sighed. “We have to rebuild the human race. Everyone is tested for genetic
compatibility. It gives our species the best hope of survival.”

I watched my mother from across the room, holding Adam. She spotted me and beckoned
me over.

“Duty calls.” I smiled at Vivian.

My mother had me speak with more of her colleagues, eat more cake, fake more smiles.
I finally found a quiet corner to hide in when Rice saw me and brought over Baby.
She beamed at me, just happy to be at her first party.

“You knew,” I playfully accused Rice.

He grinned. “Of course I knew. Your mother had me show you those orientation films
to keep you busy while they set up the party.”

“But you told me my mother wanted me to watch those videos before I even took that
test today, before I was placed in Advanced Theory.”

Rice shrugged. “She had high hopes for you.”

“She didn’t . . .” I paused. “Rice, did I actually place into Advanced Theory, or
did my mother pull some strings?”

“No, the director wouldn’t do that,” Rice assured me. “Your scores placed you. The
director wouldn’t break the rules.”

I thought of Adam, what his existence meant. Of course she wouldn’t break the rules.
But I wondered. “Not even for her daughter?”

“Especially not for her daughter,” Rice said.

Baby tugged on my sleeve and signed urgently,
Amy
,
I think that’s the woman from the ship
.

I looked up and saw Kay. She wasn’t wearing her skintight black outfit, but it was
definitely her.

“Who’s that woman?” I asked Rice.

“That’s Kay Oh. You don’t recognize her?” he asked, surprised.

“No, I do. She brought us in. She’s tough.” I admired her.

“No, I mean don’t you recognize her from pre-ap times. . . . She was a pop star.”

I took a closer look at Kay. She did look familiar, but not entirely. The hair was
wrong. For some reason I pictured it blue and spiky. Suddenly I had it.

“That’s Kay Oh from Kay Oh and the Okays!” I was startled to remember them. They were
a pop girl band and Kay Oh was the lead singer. They were everywhere Before.

“Yeah, she’s in charge of the Guardians now, believe it or not. It suits her. She
likes to cause trouble and kick ass. She scares me,” he whispered with a smile.

“Me too,” I admitted. “She’s the one who captured us.” I moved my shoulder up and
down. “I still have the bruises.”

Rice laughed. “Kay gives your mother a headache, but she’s good at her job.”

“A headache how?”

“You know, she’s just . . . difficult,” he said, clearly not wanting to say more.

“Like?” I smiled. “Come on, Rice, you’ve got to give me something here.
Everything
can’t be a secret.” I tried to sound like I was joking, but it was really how I felt.

Rice considered, adjusting his hold on Baby. “Kay likes to shake things up. In committee
meetings she always plays devil’s advocate, doesn’t just fall into line. I really
shouldn’t be telling you this.” He looked genuinely nervous.

“Their jobs are pretty demanding physically, aren’t they?” I asked, an idea starting
to form.

“Yes, Guardians are the only ones who have to work out every day, and they’re exempt
from almost everything except their psyche-eval. The women don’t even have to donate
their genetic material unless they want to.”

“And how, exactly, do you become a Guardian?” I asked, prying.

“You have to pass certain tests, stealth, speed, weaponry . . .” He stopped and studied
my face. “Amy, you don’t want to be a Guardian.”

“Why not?”

“Your mom would freak, first of all.”

He was right. If my mother didn’t want me to be a Guardian, I’d have a powerful opponent.
On the other hand, her fanaticism for her own rules could work in my favor. She couldn’t
keep me from doing something I was qualified for because she wanted to keep me out
of harm’s way. Not when she asked other citizens of New Hope to risk their lives as
Guardians.

“Besides,” Rice continued, “do you know the mortality rate for Guardians? The odds
aren’t good. I wouldn’t want you in danger like that.”

I thought for a moment about the death that was announced on the news. “No, but I
do know about Floraes and surviving outside of New Hope.”

He sighed. “Look, the Guardians started up as soon as your mother became director.
There were some military people here, checking up on their commissioned research,
but most of the Guardians are Hutsen-Prime security staff and new recruits. At first
everyone wanted to be a Guardian. You get special treatment, you’re exempt, and everyone
in New Hope treats you like you’re royalty. Personally I think they’re just glorified
couriers.”