Irin

Ako is gone in the morning. I'm not even surprised I don't miss him. I have my daughter now, and the elated relief I feel whenever she catches my eyes without screaming illuminates the whole nunnery. My cheerful optimism is infectious and such a nice change of pace that I almost forget about Dr. Cora. 

'You are still here?' Ako asks when he comes by the kitchen for lunch. 

'I've been having such a wonderful time with our little charmer, I was thinking I'd wait until she's having her nap.' I can't take my eyes off her, just as she can't stop staring at me. It's adorable how her little hands hold onto my fingers or, like now - try to grab the necklace I'm donning. It was a gift from Irin, and I only started wearing it today, so we'd have an icebreaker when I drop by her office or her home after I visit the hospital.

'Has she not slept yet?' Ako's surprised.

'I have not had the heart to tell her, Lord.' The young girl from yesterday has changed entirely towards me, and we've been chatting all morning. She's sixteen and the only daughter of one of The Ones Bereft. Her father named her Illve after her mother, but she goes by Ive at the nunnery. I'm not entirely sure why. 

'Telling me what?' I tear my eyes from my daughter only to look at her slightly disgruntled father. 

'She was supposed to nap about two hours ago,' Ive explains.

'Oh. I didn't know...' The happiness I've been surrounded by all morning suddenly dips into my familiar despair. I don't know her. I know nothing of my daughter's routines or her daily schedule. And now I've deprived her of her sleep! I don't want to cry again. I don't want Ive to see her queen lose face or show anyone how fragile I am. I hurriedly hand the baby over to Ako. Before leaving, I make up some sort of excuse about having to pee. I don't know what I'm doing as I stride the five flights of stairs and land on our bed. Burying my sobs in a pillow. I'm crestfallen. 

I feel like a melancholic teenager. I hate that it has come to this, one step forward, two steps back. What good does all this sobbing do? For fucks sake, I'm tired of this ever-occurrent crying! Ako's consoling hands and reassurances will only make me bawl harder. I can't stay here; this is where her crib is, and I don't want him to see me like this. Again. 

I hear him on the stairs, singing that tune from his past as I imagine him rocking her softly in his arms. Why can't I be like that? I know I can be. 

I'm by the washstand when he enters. I've successfully washed my tears in icy cold water and dressed myself in one of the dresses I got that summer when I was tired of wearing a tent. It hugs my body in a way that adds fullness where I'm lacking and otherwise hides the protruding bones I feel so self-conscious about. My hair is coming back, and I have about two centimeters (an inch) covering my scalp. I wonder if I should hide it with a scarf so Irin won't be too shocked when she sees me.

I fiddle with my necklace when Ako carefully lies the baby in her crib. She's peaceful, sleeping so heavily that she's not even complaining when he puts her down. 

'Come,' Ako whispers, and I'm by his side, staring down at our daughter. He squeezes my hand lovingly as if saying, "Can you believe we made that?" I nod.

'Do you want me to drive you to Cora? It is a long walk,' if he's seen that I have cried, he doesn't mention it. 

'I want to walk,' I say, and he lets go of my hand to stretch on the bed. 

'I will come by later and pick you up, then. Maybe I will bring her, too. She likes my Heran,' he smiles and makes himself comfortable. 

'I'll need at least a couple of hours, maybe three,' I think of Irin; I have no idea how long it will take Cora to examine me, but I know I'll need as much time as possible with my friend. He nods towards the crib,

'She will sleep for long. I will not come until you are ready,' I kiss Ako goodbye. He's already sleeping when I close the door. 

When I enter the kitchen to say where I'm going, Ive is ready with a cup of Jaylah and some sweet biscuits. We chat for a bit, but I'm getting antsy. Worried I'll be too late to meet Cora, I hastily say my goodbyes and leave. 

The trip is uneventful but long, and I feel slightly light-headed when I knock on Cora's door. 

'Mariell?' Cora shouts from within.

'How did you know it was me?'

'You are the only one who knocks,' Cora laughs from behind her desk, and I chuckle. Just like she does. But her mood changes fast.

'I know why you are here. Let us get the unpleasantries over so we can chat without hesitation,' I nod, suppressing the urge to hang my head in the inevitable doom I expect. 

'Your Dr. Kemp taught me about these kinds of diseases. I have not encountered them, but he left me a kit and told me how to administer it. We tested some of our people out of curiosity - you know what I am like, but all tests came up negative. Gavin said to wait for the cultures to do their magic, but I, too, have a trick or two up my sleeve. He was impressed.' Cora is efficient when she tests my blood, does the pap smear test, and all those other things I've expected. She takes them with her and leaves me to dress. 

I don't like to wait, so I get busy making two White Jaylahs. The small kitchenette by the window is a new addition to Dr. Cora's office. Ako had said she spent all her waking hours at the hospital, but I'm surprised the time crunch is so bad she can't even go out for lunch.

'Thank you! It is a bit late for White Jaylah, is it not?' Cora takes her cup, nevertheless.

'There's still a hint of summer in the air,' I blink at her. Besides, I know it's her favorite drink. 

'Are the tests ready?' I can't wait any longer. Dr. Cora holds up a blue sheet and smiles. It can't be bad if she smiles, can it? But I feel my knees buckle as I sit back down, scared she's trying to mellow the blow. But I'm fine. We go through the results together, and she takes her time to explain every number and every diagram; there's only one point she rests her finger on when we're done.

'You were pregnant.' She looks at me. Her piercing semi-red eyes hold on to mine for a second or two, and I think I see the accusation in her stare. I cover in my chair. Feel nauseated. It was true, then, the dream I had. That horrible day when Gancheva gave me that familiar pill. I did suffer through it, what they back in Førde had referred to as a home abortion. The bastards! 

'It wasn't meant to be,' Cora tries, but I shake my head so violently she stops speaking. 

'I never wanted any of it. I had no way to stop them when they came to my room. I had no control...' I try explaining the unexplainable to a woman coming from a country so perfect their native tongue doesn't even have a word for rape. Even in the Common Tongue, you'll have to explain the concept to a Melcham, and I can't bring myself to relive the trauma by talking about what had happened.

'Mariell, I am not judging. And I will not belittle your experience with my pity. This was not supposed to happen. You were not supposed to... I am glad the scrolls were wrong.' Cora wipes her face. I stare at her. I'd forgotten all about the prophecy. According to it, I wasn't supposed to return. My daughter and I were meant to be whisked away and end up at Base O.N.E, "never to return again." I shudder. 

'There has to be other scrolls... I always thought it weird you'd celebrate my coming if all I was meant to do was to stay in Melcham for a couple of years, disappear, and take your Lord from you,' I try.

'I do not know of such scrolls, but you live there now, at the nunnery. You can ask them,' Cora has a sip of her White Jaylah, visibly savoring what I guess will be her last cup until spring.

'Yeah, or at least I'll snoop around a little. The nuns don't like that particular topic.' I smile, and Cora scoffs.

She talks about the town, the sick, the wounded, and I feel awful I haven't been there for them yet. She picks up on it, shakes her head, and tries to soothe me.

'The Lord has informed me of your situation. I would have needed time, too, if I were in your sandals.'

'You know, I think I should volunteer again. You seem to need the help,' I hint at the kitchenette, and Cora lights up.

'I was hoping you would say that. Do come whenever you feel like it!' And with that, I leave her office, feeling slightly better about myself. I have a purpose. I have worth.

I'm almost out of the hospital when I hear them. Two old biddies sitting by the entrance soaking up the autumn sun as if they didn't have enough of it this summer. 

'It is a shame the Lord cannot save her. They only wait, now.' The oldest of the two looks so disappointed that I stop in my stride.

'At least her child will live,' the youngest comforts her friend.

'But he is so changed! He never smiles - I suppose his scar doesn't help, but my Mavru is a different man, Tish. I fear I will never get him back,' she's in tears now, and so am I. They're talking about Irin!

I hurry back inside, and instead of asking anyone or checking the list of rooms, I pull the White down. If what I fear is true, I won't get any answers from the staff - they have somehow decided to keep me out of the loop. I listen for her, but no Irineske thoughts fly about the structure. But many people are thinking about her, and this is how I find her room.

It's dark inside. The curtains are shut, and the lights are off. I can't feel her essence, and with the dim light, I can't even see her bed. I open the curtains and turn. 

There she is, hooked up to the same machines I was hooked up to in that prison cell almost five months earlier. Her head's in a green bandage, and the EEG has a steady rhythm. But that's all. Electrical impulses, no - just a pulse. Brain dead. 

I go up close and let the White down further, looking for signs of my friend using this newfound ability I don't even know how to use. A bullet is lodged in there - it had been a perfect kill shot, but by some sort of miracle, it had stopped before it exited the back of her skull. She would have died then, but now she's kept alive by a medical ventilator that looks as if it's been in Ako's hands, judging by the different Mane-gear I see strapped around to make it more efficient.

Her face is strangely white and dry. I pick up the cream from her nightstand and rub it on her face. Why hasn't anyone done that for her? Irin would never have let herself go like this! It's weird how I react, wanting my friend to look her best, even though I know by now that all she is is an incubator. It makes me slightly queasy, and I hastily place her cream back where I found it. I step away from this almost-corpse.  

I turn to see Ako in the doorway. He's opened the door so silently that I shouldn't have known he was there. But I'm so in tune with him now; I sense him. 

'I should have told you. I am sorry,' Ako shows with every muscle on his face that he truly is. I shake my head, wipe my tears, and nod towards Irin. I'm suddenly too shocked to go near her. I can't move; I'm sure I'll fall if I move. Fall to the floor, where I'll wither in uncontrollable sobs and become that helpless ball of human flesh I want to be but can't. 

'Her brain is dead,' I hear my voice shake. So do my hands for some reason. 

'Doctors Kemp and Cora tried to operate. Some of the fragments from the bullet have traveled. I cannot save her. Not now. Mavru wants the baby.' Ako's behind me. I feel the comfort of his body in my back and subconsciously lean into it. 

'I can pull them out with the White. And then you gift her… Is it possible?' I ask without believing a word of it. He points to her belly, that seven-month-long pregnancy she'd been so delighted about. I think of that scene from The Handmaid's Tale and feel a chill run down my back. This is what we're worth. We're the breeders, the hope for another generation. Not so unlike the Mane queens, after all. Finish that pregnancy, bring another seed to the populous, and you've earned the silence of your peers. It was all about hope. And then, when the hope had been fulfilled, you were nothing. 

'We must wait for the baby to mature and then try. It is only two more months now. Two more months to prepare and learn, two more months to practice.' Ako looks at me; the worry on his face is subtly replaced by optimism. I want to kick him, scream my frustrations into his chest, and bang my fists at him.

It's unfair. Not Irin. Not my friend. Anyone but her! Her situation sends me back to Florø, to Ed. I want to hide. To run away. Find my mother and take cover in her bed sheets.