“Are you married?” I asked, drawing my eyes away from her screen and back to her face.
“Yes,” she replied. “Though my husband isn’t at home much. He works in one of the labs up in Founders’ Fortress. Our home is located just beneath it and has some spectacular views—as you would see upon visiting us.”
“Do you have any children of your own?” I asked.
“Yes, several of our own, the youngest of whom is seven,” she replied. “I haveplentyof experience looking after children. And I must point out that Fairwell hasextremelyhigh standards when it comes to childcare and protection. All of us have been vigorously pre-vetted and will treat your kids like the precious blossoms they are.” She took Bea’s small hand and squeezed it affectionately.
My sister looked at me, appearing a touch bemused. It seemed she wasn’t sure what to do with all this attention, though, thankfully, she wasn’t objecting either.
“How do I contact you to arrange my weekly visit?” I asked.
She pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from her handbag, and scrawled down a number on it, and what seemed to be an address.
“When you check into your new house, it will include a phone which you can use to contact me on this number—no doubt your supervisor will help you get familiar with the tech, if you’re not sure about it. You will also find a tablet device there like mine, which will be installed with a map of the main isle, to help you find my place.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of several women standing around my uncle and aunt, talking to them about my cousins. I felt a spike of urgency.
“Listen, Martha, I appreciate your interest in Bea, but I want her to go to a family that will also take at least one of her cousins.” I pointed to where my family stood.
She looked at them for a moment. “What about that little boy?” She pointed to Jack in my uncle’s arms.
Jack and Bea together. I supposed it wasn’t the worst option. At least, it could do something to reduce my parents’ unease.
I hung back while my aunt and uncle conducted their own interrogations of Martha. I saw Martha swiping across her screen again, showing them her home.
“You could come this Sunday at the same time as Tani, to make things simple—at 3 p.m.,” she was saying.
I glanced around to see that many other women had come to agreements with other families too, some kids already standing by their new guardians’ sides, while others were moving into the shuttle already. Most of the young children were crying.
I stepped back, so I could have one last private moment with my sister. Thankfully, she wasn’t crying yet, although she was very quiet and clearly not herself. I wasn’t sure which was worse. I buried my face in her curls.
“Do you like Martha?” I asked her in a whisper.
I felt her give a small shrug against me.
“She’s going to look after you while you’re staying on that big, pretty island. Jack is coming with you, so if you ever feel like… like you’re missing me, or Mom or Dad, give Jack a big hug, okay? And don’t drive him crazy. I’ll be coming to see you both very soon.”
She nodded, tightening her arms around my neck, and I stood with her for a moment longer, just holding her small frame against mine.
Then I had no choice but to head toward Martha. I slowly carried Bea to where Jack stood, who already held the older woman’s hand. His face was noticeably paler as he looked at his parents.
“Well, best of luck with your settling in,” Martha said, picking up Bea gently. “And for now, farewell!”
Bea’s eyes remained fixed on me as they moved away. I waved, trying to comfort her but unable to ignore the growing concern and uncertainty in her expression. Then the trio reached the vehicle and boarded.
ELEVEN
I stepped into the small,square one-bedroom house I’d been assigned. The front door opened straight into a compact kitchen that bled into a slightly larger living area. Everything felt bare, the walls stark white, the only decoration a wide, blank screen mounted in the living space. The living area held just two pieces of furniture: a small sofa and a low metal table, both as utilitarian as the rest of the place.
“Regarding the lighting, you control it on this panel,” Mike, my designated supervisor, explained. He pointed to a glass control panel mounted beside the front door. It was sleek and rectangular, with twelve softly glowing buttons. “There’s another panel like this upstairs. Otherwise, most of the house’s functions are automatic. Water will be warm whenever you need it, ventilation and temperature optimized for maximum bodily comfort. And, in case you’re wondering, the tap water is drinkable. It’s been salt-treated, sanitized, and re-mineralized. You’ll find the cupboards stocked with the amenities you need to get started: clothes, a backpack, long-life food, etc.”
I hardly listened to what he said. I stared at the bronze ringon his finger. I needed a ring myself. It would be my key to getting her back—if I could top it up with enough numbers, to move from gunmetal gray, to bronze, then silver.
So I was relieved when Mike finally left.
An “employment officer” was scheduled to visit me next, to begin the process.
That was all I wanted to focus on. I was certain it was all any of us wanted to focus on, as we settled into the cramped, bare structures they called homes.
