Perfect Flaw (18 page)

“B-but…”

The other woman shushed her and dragged her down the service elevators down to the parking lot. When the doors opened, she hesitated. The nurse looked at her expectantly.

“What about my baby?”

With impossible patience, the woman answered, “I am taking you to the Coterie. They will help you.”

“The Rebel Underground?” she practically squeaked.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Who do you think gave you the number to call when you were denied?”

She thought back to that day, sitting listlessly in the after-interview room and wondering how it went wrong. Someone had walked by and dropped a card in her lap. It had a number on it, and when she called she was asked just how badly she wanted to have a child.

The other snorted a strange and unladylike sound. “If you’d just waited until after the birth, everything would have been fine. Do you realize what kind of stress you’re going to endure now? You are on the run.”

A fugitive?!

“The facilities are not as advanced,” the nurse was continuing, “but we will not hurt you or your child. We will provide shelter and security as best we can. You can be certain of one thing; they will certainly kill you if they get the chance.”

“You can’t know that.”

There was a haunted expression to answer that. “I’ve seen it happen.”

The thought gave her pause. She did not want to die, but going to the Coterie was a definite act of treason. Even if she was exaggerating about the punishment for disobeying a Dictate, doing this would seal her fate. Still, she could not risk her child’s life on the assumption all would be forgiven if she turned herself in. “What if something goes wrong?”

The woman’s face softened then, and stepped forward enough to place a hand on her shoulder. “Pregnancy is never a sure thing, something can always go wrong. You will not be alone.” Her face hardened. “Then again, this can still be stopped. Do you wish to terminate the pregnancy?”

“No!” Her stomach plummeted at the suggestion as she grabbed her midsection protectively. She went through too much to get her child!

The nurse softened again. “What if the baby dies?” she asked pointedly. “What if you die? Not even a Hospital can prevent that.”

She thought about it, and then felt the distinct fluttering inside her that announced the life inside her. It was a risk, a terrible one, but one she was willing to take. Besides, if the DP found her now they would surely terminate her. She wanted a fighting chance!

“Lead on,” she said with more steadiness than she felt.

With no further discussion, the woman led her out into the parking lot. They took pains to keep along the walls or between the vehicles. She was not sure why until she remembered that The Eye was undoubtedly hooked into the security here. When her rescuer gestured to Riley to get in a car, she did not hesitate to obey. Her rescuer then shoved the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot. “So much for that job,” She muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

She hugged herself in the passenger seat as the landscape around her faded to a blur.

What was going to happen to her and her baby?

* * *

Riley was tired and ready to have her child.

Six months on the run had been more than she bargained for. The nurse had been right; being a fugitive was incredibly frightening. Her former life was left behind: her job as a CP, her home, her friends, and Carlton. The new life she led with the Coterie, the group who had supplied her with her Breeder Pass, was filled with anxiety despite her new friends’ attempts to ease the tension. She always had to worry if someone recognized her when she went anywhere, had to pay for things with prepaid credits provided by the Underground – which meant always being on a tight budget, and endured the care of the Hot Tea Rose Clinics while hoping that the information they gathered did not get back to the DP. She never recalled a time when she had so many concerns. It was unnerving to always be looking over her shoulder, being aware of where The Eye was so that she walked just right or made sure someone was in front of her to lessen the chances of being identified. Granted she was always with someone, but it only helped to lessen her fear not alleviate it.

Her fear would never go away, when she and her daughter were found they would kill them. Even after the birth, because she had been foolish enough to go to a Hospital. The Coterie was offering to transport her to another Demense, but they dare not do it until after the baby was born. It seemed it was farther reaching than she initially thought, having contacts, hubs, and operations within all of the nine main regions and the waystations in between. That was how they knew about her. The contact she had made to simply get a child directed her to them, and in turn they used their Underground operations to provide her the material and advice she needed. It would have ended there, had she just listened to them.

It was impressive, how prepared these people were. They were not the disorganized teams talked about by the media and DPs. Everyone cared for each other and shared what they could, but work was required. Everyone had a skill, no matter what their age. The only ones given any leeway were the children, who were allowed to play but were also trained for when they reached adulthood. However, just like anywhere else, the people here practiced sterilization, but not necessarily for the same reason as above. Aside from other reasons, it gave them the pass they needed to infiltrate Hospitals to get Reversals. Other than always moving with the awareness of The Eye watching, there were many aspects about the people which were similar to those she used to know. What she could not get accustomed to was the atmosphere.

There was a kind of hyper-vigilance that kept her jumpy, and she was finally able to identify what it was about the Clinics that bothered her. She looked around as she thought about that, as she was now sitting in one of the sympathetic outfits. On the surface, they looked the same as a Hospital; it was the patients and clerks who bothered her. The patients either had an attitude of aggression, desperation, or borderline defeat about them; and the clerks were often annoyed, exhausted, or close to apathetic. It was not overtly obvious, of course. She was sure it was due to her condition and her being oversensitive to things lately that brought these things to light.

“RM3802?” the speaker called out.

Her escort stood and helped her to her feet. As usual, a sharp pain accompanied to the movement. The doctors still had not been able to tell her why that kept happening.

She felt warmth spread down her leg.

Looking down, she was alarmed to see her slacks darkening.

“Medic!” her companion cried out as he took a firm hold of her arm and encouraged her to sit back down.

Nurses came running out and immediately began tending to her. They asked her a succession of questions: was she light-headed, when was her due date, had she been experiencing any pain, blah blah blah. Everything they already knew if they had her file, which was supposed to be carried by collaborators between clinics. She tried to answer as best she could, but she was feeling strange.

“She is bleeding heavily,” one of the nurses was saying. “We have to get her to a Hospital.”

At the word, she reached out and gripped her guard’s arm firmly. Was he going to risk it?

He looked at her, his eyes full of concern, and then touched her hand sympathetically. He moved away as the nurses did their best to make her comfortable. She could see him using his transmitter, and began to feel hope. It was not long before the paramedics arrived. As they were placing her on the gurney, he approached again.

“You the partner?” one of the men asked as they strapped her to the wheeled bed.

“Yes,” he lied, sounding breathless.

“Where to?”

“Sece.”

They paused to look at him oddly. “That is not the closest Hospital.”

“It’s the one covered by her insurance,” he replied, looking a bit dazed.

Accepting that, they resumed their task and rolled her out of the Clinic. Since he had said he was her partner, he was allowed to ride with her. He held her hand, maintaining the act of being scared.

“It’ll be alright,” he assured her. “I called ahead and they know to expect us.”

That did a lot to relieve her fright. If the Coterie knew what was happening, and they had people in the Hospital they were going to, there was a chance she and the child would leave alive. Hope kept her conscious. As she felt the vehicle navigate traffic, her mind focused on her child again.

Why would the Demense Prepotence kill her and her child? Sure she had disobeyed a Dictate by obtaining the child illegally, but the child hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe she had been foolhardy to think that once she was pregnant they would not hurt the child. If they had just allowed her to be inseminated in the beginning, she would not have taken such drastic steps. Thinking about that brought to mind her interview again. Once again, she puzzled over why her application had been denied. She had the proper training to keep a child instead of turning it over to the CP’s, and everything else was optimal. It had been when the screening reached the personal medical that the interviews got strange.

The fifth interview established her sexual health. Like anyone else, she had no serious partner (at the time, it might have been different had she been allowed to keep in touch with the baby’s seed father), and she was sure to report to a Clinic once a month. She was clean and thus passed.

The sixth interview examined her genetic background, which apparently had been acceptable because she had been moved forward. Only that took longer than the previous test, and she had not been told the results. Why not? Not to mention she always had the impression that she barely passed it.

It was the seventh interview that she failed, the one that took a closer look at her medical history. The Hospital had taken current physical, blood, and genetic information. She had stayed there for ten days, waiting for them to tell her something – anything. Finally, she was told that she was unfit to be a Breeder. Which made no sense, after centuries of selective breeding one would think that most if not all genetic damage had been addressed.

Wait… a thought occurred to her as the ambulance arrived at the Hospital.

What if the problem was not that her child would be damaged in some way? What if the problem was her? What if there was something wrong with her?

A lance of pain and more warmth between her legs gave credence to that thought.

‘Oh no,’ her heart raced as panic took the place of fear.
‘Please no, let me have my baby. Let me hold her… if just once!”

They rolled her inside the Emergency Entrance and to the preparatory rooms. As she was raced along, she was encouraged to see the Hot Tea Rose pins on several of the nurses’ uniforms. She reached out blindly, the pain getting worse and her focus blurring – though whether from blood loss or her tears she could not say. A hand grabbed hers.

“Save my baby,” she cried.

“You’ll be fine,” someone answered.

“No!” she was insistent. “In my ID pack, there is a card… The seed-father… Carlton… If I do not make it, please contact him.”

There was a pause and then, “Ok.”

“Promise me!”

A new blurry figure came up and took her other hand. It was her guard. “I promise.”

Somewhat assured, she surrendered to fate. There was no guarantee he would want anything to do with the child, but she could think of no one else. She did not even know who her own seed-parents were, and now she regretted never finding out.

In the birthing room, there was a mixture of collaborators among the others. She had been granted time, as since this was an emergency there would be little background check until after. Not to mention that the nurses who had been forewarned were able to provide the necessary medical information the Hospital would need for this procedure. Thankfully the main doctor was also sympathetic, and coached her through the process. It was excruciating, even after they gave her anesthetic. She could not be given too much, in case it affected the child. However, determined to at least see her child she endured. With every push, she felt herself getting weaker, despite the fluids being fed into her.

Finally, the wail of a child awarded her effort.

With a sigh/groan of relief, Riley fell back onto the bed. She had never felt so weak. She could see the blur that was her child, being held up for her. She reached out as much as she could.

“Please… let me… hold…”

Without hesitation the doctor handed over the baby. “A girl.” The nurse said.

Holding the small body in her arms, she could hardly believe her dream was finally here.

“Have you selected a name?”

She nodded. “Tessa,” and leaned down to kiss the warm forehead. “I love you,” she whispered.

The tiny eyes opening to look at her were the last things she saw as she blacked out.

* * *

The baby was held by Riley Mason’s guard held while they tried to revive her. He backed away to give the nurses a chance to help. They worked on her, but she never regained consciousness. As if on cue, the baby began to cry.

A nurse came forward to claim her and take her to be examined and fed. He complied, see it was an ally and knowing the child would be cared for in private. Right now he had to be sure the body was removed before an official examination could be done. The less evidence of Tessa’s beginnings that there were the better chance she had of living outside the Coterie. No one was forced into that life, it was mainly a last resort to those who thought they had no other choice but who did not want to die.

His business done, he went to the private nursery to check on the newborn. One of his cohorts was there, feeding her.

“The mother should never have gotten herself pregnant,” she was saying. “She’d be alive now.”

“The DP never explains its decisions, you know that.” he reminded her firmly.

“Still, if she’d known she might not have gotten pregnant.”

Looking at the small form, he answered, “Don’t be so sure. She was told of the risks, and that this could’ve happened - she chose the child. Anyway, she should have the freedom to choose.”