Chapter 6: Chapter 6

“My mom can’t shake off the unease that’s settled in her gut. For the first time in two months and ten days, she’s slept with a Perfect against her will.

“She feels like he’s stolen something from her. But she can’t pinpoint what exactly he’s taken.

“She’s given herself fully, like she does with every soldier. He wasn’t rough, it didn’t hurt. He was kind, gentle, careful with her. But she still feels violated. Robbed of something she would have willingly given.

“But Eric wanted her, and he took her. His words reverberate in her mind all night as she lies awake: ‘Masters are just like every other man on this planet.’

“She realizes the next morning that making babies isn’t the only thing that men, Masters, want when they sleep with her. She’d enjoyed making babies with soldiers; it was a joint effort, a merging of Perfect forces.

“That’s what she was created for. Sleeping with soldiers had a single purpose—to create life—but that night with Eric wasn’t about creating life. She was already pregnant.

“It was about his pleasure and the pleasure he derived from being inside her. It was that—that realization—that changed my mom.

“She always knew she was naive, that boys were taught history and politics and military skills while she was being taught how to make a baby and how to assemble a machine gun.

“But she would never have guessed that sleeping with a man was for anything other than making babies. This revelation unsettles her, it scares her. ~Every man on this planet.~

“Do all men desire women as he did? Is it normal? Was she designed for exactly that? My mom feels naive, and she doesn’t like it. She feels foolish and embarrassed in front of the Master.

“Maybe, she thinks, maybe there’s more to life than just having children. If there’s another aspect to having sex, what she’s been raised to do, then there should be another aspect of life.

“Her thoughts are illegal. She knows it, and it scares her even more. She sits in the back of the Masters’ truck, surrounded by three Masters. Eric sits closest and keeps his eyes on her during the journey.

“She doesn’t speak—she’s too intimidated and too scared. The other Masters ask her a bit about her pregnancy and her school before, but she answers so meekly that they soon lapse into their own conversation.

“My mom only half listens. They talk about the war, about the Japanese planes that destroyed a school in Sector 59 yesterday. The Japanese are gaining control over Albion.

“The school in Sector 59 and my mom’s establishment weren’t the only targets of their raid. Another establishment and two nurseries in different sectors were attacked and destroyed. Many people died.

“She’s not excited anymore. Her pregnancy isn’t bringing her the joy she’d expected all her life. She can’t feel anything yet, but she knows she’s still early and that’s normal.

“She knows now that she has a lot to learn. About men, Masters, and her own country. How could a Master desire her? How could she possibly be desired for anything other than her ability to create Perfect children?

“It’s impossible. And yet, Eric wants her after she has her children.

“Isn’t her purpose, after having children, to educate them? To raise them to be good Perfects so that Albion can be immortal and, as they call it, eternal? Or to guide other young mothers?

“But of course, the most confusing part for my mom is why Eric chose her. At that time, she was just a seventeen-year-old pregnant girl with a lot of questions. She was nothing.

“That was probably why the Masters weren’t scared, why Eric didn’t have any doubts. They, even though they knew everything, every truth and every lie about Albion, could no longer perceive the existence of an intelligent woman.

“Or, at least, a curious one.”

“That was their mistake.” The journalist tightens her lips and takes a sip of her beer. “How much did the Masters know? You suggested they knew everything about Albion and the world. What did they know?”

The man leans back in his chair slightly and looks at her over the rim of his mug.

“To be honest, I can’t answer that as fully as I’d like to. I know that the Masters maintained balance, and only a Master could declare someone Perfect or Defective or Cripple.

“They were the bosses. They were always men, of course, and the only Perfects who aged.

“My dad told me that they were chosen because of the skills they showed in school as boys. They were taken to Master schools and were educated thoroughly.”

“So they were the government. There wasn’t one main Master?”

“No, it was a kind of senate. That’s what made them so powerful and hard to overthrow.”

“Did they take women often?”

“More often than any record states. They were the Masters, so nothing they did was questioned. They certainly weren’t expected to; it was the jobs of the soldiers and women to create children, but they were still men.”

He pauses before continuing. “My mom was the only one that Eric ever wanted to own, though. He’d been with other women before, but she was the first one, and the only one, he ever wanted to possess.

“Either way, at that time, there was no way to identify who the father was. Many had the same genes, and they weren’t put into records like before, or even now.

“What mattered to them was the physical appearance and normal intelligence.”

“So she went to the nursery with them?”

“Yes. Eric even accompanied her inside. Nurseries functioned mostly the same as establishments. Each girl had her room and freedom to her timetable.

“Since they were all pregnant, they were therefore in a delicate state, so they weren’t expected to participate in the war. That meant no workshops, no building bombs, clothes or any of the usual things they kept busy doing.

“Their main duty was to stay healthy. And take care of the babies.”

***

The Masters drop me off at the nursery in the late evening. The sun setting on the horizon paints the sky with broad pink-purple streaks.

I’m captivated by the beauty of it, barely visible through my gas mask, as I’m ushered inside. The head nurse, Tania, welcomes me with open arms and the Masters with a broad smile.

I walk into the living room and find twenty girls, each with at least one baby, lounging on the overstuffed sofas and armchairs. They’re all waiting for me. As soon as I step in, they burst into applause and rush over to greet me.

I spot a few familiar faces from the establishment and school. Beth is among them, her grin stretching from ear to ear. Seeing her makes everything feel safe again. We rush into each other’s arms, both of us overjoyed to be reunited.

“I missed you,” she whispers, holding me close.

“I missed you more,” I reply, my eyes welling up with tears.

“We heard about the bombing at the establishment,” she says.

“No one was hurt,” I assure her.

She nods, a small smile on her face. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.” She gives me another squeeze.

“I really missed you,” I repeat.

Suddenly, Tania calls out my name. “958,687,487.64.4 Alexandra!”

I walk over to her, Beth tagging along, our hands intertwined.

A group of older women, all nurses, are gathered behind Tania. Eric and the Masters are standing with them. Behind me, the girls watch with anticipation.

“958,687,487.64.4 Alexandra,” Eric begins, glancing at my medical records. He puts them back on the table and looks up at me.

“From now on, you will be known as 958,687,487.64.4.2 Alexandra,” he announces.

The girls and nurses behind me erupt into cheers and applause. I’m a true Perfect now; I’m not a Defective. I lightly touch my stomach. I think I can feel a slight bump, a hardness.

Only a Master can assign a new number to one’s name, and this is my first name change since I was born. I know there will be more—eight more changes are expected, and this is just the first one.

“Congratulations on your pregnancy, Alexandra,” Eric says, handing me my identification paper.

I see he’s added the number two at the end of my name with a gray pen. Two for the two months I spent in the establishment before my first pregnancy.

The Eternal Albion flag is unfurled, and I turn to it, placing my hand over my heart.

My pledge is almost the same, but I add a new promise to protect my child, and now that I’ve been proven fertile, to have eight Perfect children.

After my pledge, the celebration begins. The girls give me big smiles and congratulate me on my first pregnancy.

Two days ago, I would have let myself enjoy the party, a celebration of my first name change, but today I can’t keep a smile on my face for long.

I spend the evening moving around the room, sipping juice and tea and making frequent trips to the bathroom to escape the giggling and cooing.

Eric doesn’t stick around. Before he leaves, he pulls me aside and holds my hands tightly. “I’ll be waiting for news of your pregnancy, Alexandra. And don’t worry. I’ll be there for the birth of your first.”

“Isn’t there more important stuff? Like the war?” I ask, frowning.

He smiles at me. “What’s more important than the birth of a new Perfect? New life?” He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand, but you shouldn’t worry. You’ll be a great mother.”

He pats my head, then turns and leaves the room. Beth finds me soon after.

“Why was that Master talking to you?” she asks, her brow furrowed.

“He was just congratulating me,” I answer quickly. Too quickly. Her frown deepens.

“Are you okay, Alex? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m just feeling a bit sick,” I explain. “Morning sickness.”

She nods slowly, then cracks a small smile. “Exciting, isn’t it? You should talk to Helen. She’s pregnant with her eighth, and she’s almost due. Come on, she’ll answer all your questions.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me across the room. “All of them? I doubt it,” I say, but she doesn’t hear me.