Number Eight tensed, and the seven folded around him. They had been doing that for the past day, ever since he'd learned the news about his mother from Sullha. He had been angry, then sad, then angry again, then he seemed to have accepted it. But the anger and sadness had kept coming in waves, and the hive had been helping absorb the sharp feelings to smooth out the edges, and the sadness had begun to soften into the quiet acceptance that was the other side of grief.
Still, hearing the news repeated had reopened the wound.
"Why?" Mattie asked.
Number One explained about the order of the Sacred Mothers. The First Mother, who had founded it four years ago. The Venerable Mothers who led the circles. "About one-fifth of the women in the enclosure have already joined the order, and their numbers are growing. In a few years, there might be no one to save."
Mattie's eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry, Number Eight."
He nodded.
"I cannot understand it." She shook her head. "I cannot understand women who would hand over their sons and do so with joy. I cannot understand women who would teach other women that it was okay to be offered to strangers for breedingbecause that was what their god wanted from them, and to do so gladly. This is so twisted that it's diabolical."
The collective had bought into the same thing until Sullha had explained it from the perspective of the helpless and hopeless.
"It makes it easier for them to endure," Number One said. "The Sacred Mothers provide a story that gives meaning to their pain, portraying the act of giving up sons as sacred. In this version of the story, they can be regarded as special rather than victims.Itdoes not match reality, but it doesn't have to. It only has to be a story they can embrace and find solace in. The other women, those who carry the truth, are crushed under it. The version the Sacred Mothers tell themselves elevates them, gives their suffering meaning."
Mattie wiped her cheek with the back of her wrist. "Poor women, but the truth is that it's not even unusual. I think about all the coming-of-age ceremonies practiced by primitive tribes. Some of those boys never came back, and yet their mothers followed the tradition. Even today, mothers submit their daughters to sexual mutilation because it's tradition, and they are either helpless to prevent it or think that this is what their god wants. I could never understand that either, but then I was lucky to be born into a different culture."
The collective didn't know what she was referring to, and they didn't want to ask. They would have plenty of time to learn about the outside world and all its ills after they left the island. Hopefully, they would find more good than evil out there. They were escaping the island for a better life, not worse.
"Sullha also understands the appeal of the Sacred Mothers' order," Number One said. "But she could never join."
"She is so strong." Mattie drew a breath and turned to Number Eight. "How are you holding up?"
"I am all right. The collective helps distribute the pain."
"That's the advantage of the hive mind," Number One said. "We don't have to carry our burdens alone. Every emotion, whether positive or negative, gets absorbed by eight minds."
She nodded. "That's good, I guess."
"This needs to be communicated to the clan," Dimitri said. "Both the assassination plan and the Sacred Mothers thing."
"We'll call them after we complete the rounds for today," Number One said. "They need to know that there is an organized network of women in the enclosure who will report any suspicious behavior, and if given the chance, betray the women they consider lost. Whatever the long-term plan for freeing the enclosure looks like, it has to account for the Sacred Mothers."
"That's a major complication," Petrov said. "By the time the clan gets around to freeing the rest of the women, there might be no one to free because every last woman joined the order. As for the assassination plan, I don't see any pitfalls. It's clean."
Dimitri picked up a syringe. "Let's get on with the shots, shall we?"
The Eight rolled up their sleeves, and Dimitri began the round, starting with Number One.
26
KIAN
The report on the new generation of micro drones that William's lab was working on was so dense that it was giving Kian a headache. The engineers had attached photographs and schematics, and the schematics were annotated in three different colors of digital ink because three different engineers had argued about the same alternatives and none of them had been willing to defer to the others.
Williams' genius squad members were incredible thinkers and innovators, but they didn't know how to communicate effectively with laypeople. They were also not good at reaching a consensus and were relying on him to be the one to decide between the different options they were debating. Normally, Kian had no problem making tough calls, but this time he just didn't understand enough to do so.
It had to do with the drones' military capabilities and what Kian was willing to compromise on, but he wasn't sure. His best option was to call William and ask him to explain.
The buzzing of his cell phone was, for once, a welcome respite.
The chief's smiling face was on the screen.
"Hello, Onegus. What can I help you with?"
"I have Number One on the line. He asks to speak with you."
