Elysium (8 page)

The Sisters spoke in unison, an automatic response like a trained muscle instilled in their minds from childhood, “To keep the flame alight.”

“Cover their mouths,” Mother said.

“No, please, don’t —” one of them shouted, but no one would help. Everyone knew it. Even she knew it.

The guards did as they were told. This only made the four shout more, even as their mouths were gagged.

One great morning when the world is over, I’ll fly away
…
away, away, so far away I’d fly, and no one would ever catch me.

“We have been too lax here of late,” Mother said. “Perhaps the changes in our dress and the other new freedoms have led us to forget who and what we are. This is a time of war, Ladies. Our people look to us to be a shining example of our country’s courage. We must never fail to keep the flame. It is our only purpose.”

The air was charged with static that pricked the skin. Adrianne had no idea what was going to happen next. Each guard, including Thomas, stooped into the corner to pick up something. They reentered the circle and stood about six feet away from the posts. Adrianne squinted her eyes tight, trying to make out the objects in their hands. They were whips. The whites of Kim’s eyes showed as a guard ripped off her slip, then that of the girl next to her, then the next, and the next.

Mother began to sing —
My country, ’tis of thee
…

The rest of the Order joined in, singing lightly in shaking soprano —
Sweet land of Liberty
…

The first lash sent red rippling. The splatter of it stained white robes. A scream, even through the cloth tied around their mouths, pierced the ears and filled the room. Mother sang louder to cover the echo —
Of thee I sing
…

The second lash —
Land where my fathers died

The third — the fourth —
Land of the Romans’ pride

Lash after lash after lash after lash —
From every mountainside

Let freedom ring
…

“So, are they dead?”

“No,” Adrianne said. “But I’m sure they wish they were.”

Antoine ran his fingers through her dreads and kissed her exposed shoulder. Then he pulled up the blanket to warm her.

“I didn’t think they did things like that anymore.”

“They do. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t me that went through it.”

The silence the Sisters lived in was now filled with a sense of terror. Their steps were more careful. Their gowns more starched and sparkling white. Mistakes were hidden more quickly. And the fire blazed hotter and brighter. To escape watchful eyes, Adrianne had used every trick of evasion to get to the room where Antoine was waiting — their special place of hiding — their place of love — that felt more and more like a tomb. She folded into his arms, feeling safe for only brief moments. Then the fear would filter through again and cover all they had in a thick black cloud.

“I leave tomorrow. We’re being shipped out.”

Adrianne rolled over to face away from him.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said.

“I know.”

“Maybe it’s better if I’m away.”

“How do you mean?”

“It will be safer for you. Less chances to take for a while.”

Adrianne didn’t know what to say to that. It had been on her mind. Thoughts of him being so far away, of him running from bullets, or being blown up in his vehicle swarmed in her mind. She hugged herself tighter.

“You’re being awfully quiet about this,” he said.

“What do you want me to say?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about the fire going out,” she lied. “They say that it is a bad omen for the war.”

“Adrianne, do you honestly think that what you do in that park makes a hell of a difference when I’m out there getting shot at?”

“No. … Maybe. … I don’t know. …” she said.

“The war is already going badly. It might even —” He stopped mid-sentence and nuzzled her hair.

“It might even what?”

“It might even reach our shores someday.”

Adrianne thought about this for a moment, then dismissed the idea. Antoine could be so melodramatic sometimes. She turned over and faced him.

“I wish you would get away from that crazy cult you’re in,” he said.

“Antoine, I wish you would stop saying that. You know that it’s impossible. And breaking my vows would be wrong.”

“Then what is
this
? Isn’t this breaking your vows?”

She swallowed, “I suppose, but this is different.”

“How is this different?”

“It just is. …” she said. “Besides, it’s not so easy to leave. You know that. There is nowhere to go.”

“Maybe we could smuggle you up north. Maybe we could go together.”

Silence.

“Adrianne, one day you’re going to have to admit to yourself that this is not who you are. This is not what you want to be.”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Adrianne said and got out of bed. She searched for her clothes that lay on the floor. Antoine put his hand on her bare back and gently brought her into his arms again, then under the sheets. He kissed her tenderly on the shoulder and said, “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” He turned her over on her back. He kissed her again on the forehead, then the cheek, then the neck. He firmly put her leg to one side. She didn’t resist. He entered her and she felt the fullness of him. The weight of him. The slip of him. The pull. The thrust. The ache. The smell. The moan. He was hers, she was his. They were one.

Adrianne walked out to the harbor. In the distance, the crescent moon sprinkled light on the water. A dot of green flickered in the night sky. The tide had gone out, leaving mud below the dock. A slight breeze moved the fishy sweet air. Surrounded by shades and the irregular shapes of boxes and abandoned storage equipment, Adrianne felt a chill, then covered herself. Antoine had left a half an hour ago. Now it was her turn. Thomas would make sure she got home.

“Thom,” she called. No answer.

“Thom?” she repeated. Still, no answer.

Adrianne stepped over the broken boards.

“Thom?” she whispered.

“Hey,” someone said, “you’re out pretty late.”

Adrianne couldn’t see the source of the disembodied male voice. It came from behind a stack of old crates. She decided not to answer, only to move faster.

“Where ya going, sista? Somewhere you need to be?”

The voice was right behind her. She could feel its male bulk following her. She was easy prey. Exposed. Helpless. Before her moved the shadows of several men.

“Run, Adrianne!” Thomas called. His voice was cut off by the sound of meat being pounded, then a loud bang. Adrianne scrambled frantically. Her robes twisted about her legs, almost making her trip. She held up her dress so she could run faster. She looked around, went to the edge of the pier, and jumped. She fell wrong on her foot, onto wet soil. Above her, running feet scuffled on the wooden planks. Her ankle hurt like hell, but she had to keep moving. She was surrounded by reeds and slimy, smelly, nasty things. She had no time to think or feel or be scared. She moved silently among the leaves. Flashlights peered down from the dock to find her.

Her white robe was sullied with mud and muck as she went deeper and deeper into the reeds. Someone jumped down from the pier, then someone else. She kept moving. Then a flashlight found her. The men grabbed her. She fought like a cat. A wet cloth with a sweet chemical smell covered her mouth. And all went dark.

Adrianne woke to light and colors with unfocused edges. She blinked several times and still she could not see clearly. She had a terrible headache, one that she felt in her ears and on the bridge of her nose. The fuzziness focused. Twelve Sisters were in the room. A vigil in white flowing gowns. Four were the Sisters who were best friends. Two were Sisters who were more than that. One was the-girl-with-the-curly-red-hair-that-was-slowly-turning-auburn. One was Stephanie the brave. One was Helen. One was the-girl-with-the-gray-eyes-who-didn’t-speak-too-much. One was the Mother. The last was Adrianne. Ten Sisters held each other. Helen stood alone with skin as pale as her white robe.

“Of all the girls I never thought it would be you.”

“Mother?” Adrianne said.

Mother slapped her hard across the face.

“Don’t call me that, you little whore.” Adrianne tried to move her hands. They were tied together.

“The little brown girl with the big brown eyes. So innocent. So pure. You were actually one of my favorites.”

Helen whimpered, water flowing down her face.

“I remember when your mother brought you here. We normally wouldn’t take a girl like you. We only take girls from the best families to serve with us. But she’d been beaten by a man, and I felt sorry for her. She said you were good. So I made an exception. Now look at you. … Nothing to say?”

Adrianne swallowed.

“Lower her.”

Adrianne felt the floor beneath her going down.

“What’s happening?”

“Don’t you know what we do to little girls who can’t keep their legs closed?”

The chair Adrianne was tied to rocked a little as she shook it with all her might. It remained firmly secured on the plank as she was lowered into the open grave. She went down and down and down until the ground came up to her waist, then her bust.

“And don’t worry about your boyfriend. Antoine is dead. We threw his body into the river last night.”

“No …” she whispered. The air escaped her lungs. “No …”

The smell of the moist, cool earth surrounded her. In those last few moments when she could still see her Sisters and the Mother, her urge to scream faded. Antoine was dead, and so to die was of little consequence. And a few things that had been a mystery, now seemed so clear.

She said in a calm voice as a heavy slab of granite was slowly rolled overhead, “You are wrong to do this and one day you will know.” The light slipped away from the edges of the slab as they were sealed by the mason workers. The scraping sounds of the cement being smoothed and finished echoed in the emptiness of her tomb.

There was very little air now. Adrianne swooned and woke moments later to the blackness. She thought then that it was best to go back to sleep. Maybe when she woke again, she would find herself in the arms of the one she loved.

6.

>>

>> suspend

** SYSTEM SUSPENDED **

>> run diagnostics

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*DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE*

==> ERRORS FOUND: FRAGMENTATION @ SECTOR: 10110001

RUNNING REPAIRS

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