Wilde Card, page 35
Behind, Natalia asked: “What? I don't get it.”
Tia crouched at Zeta’s feet, who widened her eyes at the appearance of another perfect person. The girl's feet were perfectly healed. If it hadn't been for the smears of blood which adorned her heels and the smooth balls of her feet, Tia would have questioned what they had all seen. But how? She used her hands to confirm what her eyes were telling her; no cuts, grazes or scrapes - just smooth skin. Zeta giggled at the feeling and withdrew her feet.
“That tickles.” Her laughter was musical, soft and carrying.
Tia was not amused. She was tiring of this game, and fast. She stood and gestured downwards. “Explain.”
“Explain what? They healed.” Zeta’s innocent, amber eyes seemed most inhumane in that moment.
“No one can heal that fast.”
“I can.” Her eyes widened, realisation dawned. “You don't know.”
“Know what?” Raghida came to stand by Tia’s side. She too was buzzing with impatience, the thirst of knowledge.
“I'm experiment Zeta.”
“Experiment?” Tia echoed.
“Number six...” Raghida muttered, realisation dawning.
Words started floating though Tia’s head; fragments from Andy’s journal. She felt that she was close, so close, to getting to the bottom of all of this, to unfurling the poisoned centre that was the government. Zeta was the key to it all, though they hadn't realised at the time. She stood up, shoved her aching feet back into her boots - she would deal with them later. “Tell us everything.”
Zeta remembered her whole childhood. She could remember being born, the sudden blaze of light and noise that perforated her bubble. She could even remember the face of the man who delivered her, manhandled her squirming body into a basin, and then stuck a needle into the back of her neck. It was a metal disc that they put it in all of them, to identify them for experimental purposes.
She never met her parents and the scientists who fumbled her small body always made a point of telling her that she didn't have any. To prevent her from asking too many questions, or maybe just so that she always felt alone. She spent the first three years of her life in a room lined with baby cribs. She wasn’t the only baby who graced those beds, but she was the only one who ever stayed.
Later, she found out that all her brothers had died. She was the only girl, and she was the only one who had been strong enough to live.
When Zeta turned 3 years old, the honeymoon period ended and the experiments began. They moved her to a new room, one with a TV and a bigger bed that swallowed up her body. She was only a toddler but she was already smarter than half of them, and more aware of her surroundings than any toddler had a right to be. They cut off all her hair and gave her a funny hat to wear - one of them told her that it would monitor her heartbeat at night. She realised why, soon; they wanted to keep an eye on what they were doing to her. Despite penning her up like a lab rat, Zeta was treated like royalty. They fed her three times a day; warm, starchy meals with lots of crunchy vegetables and endless water. She was given a plethora of fruit to eat throughout the day and someone always came in to work through exercises with her.
Week one of the experiments, they cut the inside of her arm with a scalpel. She cried at the pain, like nothing else she'd ever felt, whilst they watched her, jotting down notes and checking the time. Nobody tried to help her and when she tried to press her hand to the wound, she was rewarded with a light slap. She didn't know what they were waiting for but it aggravated her, being surrounded by so many of them whilst she bled out. Hours passed and then suddenly, there was no more pain and she wasn't bleeding anymore. It had healed by itself. She knew enough about the human body to figure out that it wasn't normal but they didn't answer her when she asked why she could do what they couldn't.
The next day they cut her again - this time only one scientist watched her, his impassive face like steel. She cried again, howling until the pain stopped.
The day after that, when they cut her, a woman stepped into the room and held her, offering her soothing words. Zeta didn't cry, though she whimpered. Seconds later, the pain was gone.
They moved on. Week two was worse. They forced Zeta to touch a flame. The pain was excruciating, watching as her fingers became blackened, as her skin prickled...she couldn't stop screaming. But then the woman came in again, and held her, and rubbed her hands gently and somehow Zeta healed.
Every week, they subjected her to a new kind of torture, each one worse than the previous. They cut her, burned her, drowned her, hit her, suffocated her, impaled her. They gave her weeks of peace to heal her mind, they said, and then it would start all over again. And then, one day, it all stopped. She was ragged, tired, aching. They let her watch TV and brought her ice cream, chocolate and juice, all the things they had never allowed her before. It seemed to be their way of apologising for what they had done to her.
She came in, the one who was in charge, and patted Zeta’s hand. “You've done well.” She had an air of authority, of self awareness, of power. Zeta would know; she could smell it oozing from the lady’s pores. Her smile was concrete, her touch not gentle enough. This was a woman who didn’t know softness; kindness did not come to her naturally. She stared down at Zeta with dark eyes, eyes like two endless pits, and seared her from the inside out. She wanted something from Zeta, and Zeta knew with absolutely clarity that she would do anything to obtain it.
Tia listened to her story in disbelief. “You can heal yourself?”
“I can do a lot.”
“Why?”
“They experimented on our mother when she was young with mutation-inducing chemicals. All of my brothers died hours after birth but I was the only one who lived. The mutation is me. I can heal myself, though I do feel pain. I'm strong, I'm fast, I'm resourceful. They made sure I had the best education. They put me through all the same training soldiers go through.”
“Soldiers?” Natalia asked. Her uncle was a veteran so she was familiar with the training referred to.
Zeta nodded. “They brought in strategists, army generals, you name it; I can do it. My memory is impeccable, my IQ one of the highest in the world.”
This was sounding unbelievable. This slender girl, with the big amber eyes and the heart shaped face...a lethal weapon. Tia began to pace, trying to piece it all together. “What about Project Phoenix?”
“I am Project Phoenix.”
Tia froze, her gaze flickering to Zeta. “And what is that, exactly?”
Zeta stood up, raising herself to full height. She was really quite beautiful, with her flawless skin and rosebud lips. It was hard to imagine her dealing a killing blow to a fully trained soldier. She shucked off her shirt, confusing everyone in the room, and kicked off her jeans. Natalia averted her eyes awkwardly, unsure what was going on but Raghida’s gasp brought his gaze back.
Zeta stood there in a sports bra and what were obviously boy’s boxers, her back ramrod straight. She was obviously used to being looked at in her underwear.
“What the fuck?” Raghida growled for the third time that day.
It wasn't the girl’s ribbed abdominal muscles that had shocked her. Below Zeta’s prominent hip bones were two horizontal scars. They were an angry red, the stitching telling Tia that they were very recent. She wasn't sure what it meant but they were out of place on the girl's body, like a beautiful painting with a knife through it.
Zeta stroked a hand over one of the scars, her expression blank. “They harvest my eggs.”
“They harvest...your eggs?” Talia repeated, the disgust very evident in her voice.
Tia felt a finger of nausea snake around her stomach. She approached, a bitter taste rising in her throat. “May I?”
Zeta nodded. Tia crouched and inspected the scars up close. She touched one gently and felt the rough ridge of skin and stitches. “I thought you could heal yourself...why would you still have scars?”
“Because since I turned 16, they’ve been removing them every month. Normal women only have a predetermined number of eggs from birth to death. My body...it regenerates eggs. Every time they remove them, it produces more. So they harvest from me every month, freeze them, give me time to create more, and then do it all over again.”
Raghida looked like she was going to be sick. Zeta’s words were like needles in Tia’s mind. “And your eggs, they carry your mutation.” It wasn't a question. Project Phoenix was beginning to take form in her head. She was realising, rapidly, what Bloc 3 was responsible for creating.
“They artificially inseminate women with my eggs and the sperm from their top army generals.”
Natalia had come forward, anger twisting her features into a parody of a mask. “They're creating the perfect race of humans? Soldiers from birth.”
Zeta nodded, pulling her clothes back on. “Except it hasn’t been working. The women they've been inseminating, they're too weak. Once the fetus gets to the first term, it starts taking too much energy. It drives the women crazy, kills them, along with the fetus. That's what I overheard last month, anyway. They're not so careful around me; they massively underestimate my hearing.”
Suddenly it made sense. Tia thought of Madeline, both of them. The babbling of the homeless woman, clutching at her stomach. “Dead...inside.” And then she really was sick. She ran from the infirmary, just about making it to the nearest bathroom. She threw up into the sink, the back of her throat raw from the acid. She had never heard of anything so disgusting. Treating humans like hens, like cattle - a human conveyor belt of wombs. Degrading women like that-
“Tia-”
She jumped. Natalia stood behind her. Hurriedly she slammed the tap on, washing her shame down the drain. “You shouldn't be in here.”
Talia raised an eyebrow at her, and despite herself, she smiled just a little. Okay, yeah, Natalia was the Leader of these Tunnels, she could go where she wanted. She approached Tia, wiping a band of sweat off her forehead. Tia closed her eyes at the touch of her cool hand. She really didn't feel well and her feet were throbbing in her boots.
“Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?”
“No. But I mean inside...are you okay?”
She blinked away tears. “I just. Fuck.” She turned and heaved over the sink. Talia moved fast, scooping up her hair and pulling it away from her face. Tia waved her away but Talia stood beside her stubbornly until she was done dry heaving. She was thankful that there was nothing else in her system to throw up.
“I'm sorry,” she moaned, washing her mouth out with water. Talia let her hair slide out of her hands.
“No worries. Come on, Zeta has a lot more to tell us.”
Just like that. Another reason why Tia had always respected Talia; she didn't hand out sympathy where it wasn't needed. They had business to attend to, and she wasn't going to let her cry in the toilet like a little girl. Tia splashed a little water on her face and tied her hair into a knot.
Zeta was chatting away to Raghida - who looked pale herself - as if she hadn't just told them the most diabolical thing the government had ever done. She paused in her storytelling as Tia and Talia reappeared. She seemed to feel more comfortable with Raghida; she clammed up when she saw them.
“Zeta, do the bloc have any way of tracking you?” It was the first thing Talia asked.
“No. They didn't think they would ever need to. But they'll move heaven and hell looking for me. I'm the only one who ever survived.”
“Great.” She mused.
“I'm sorry, I didn't think-” Tia began.
“Don't apologise,” Talia interrupted. “You couldn't have left her there. This is what we do - this is what the Rebellion is for. Humanity.”
“The Rebellion?” Zeta piped up, excitement threading the honey timbre of her voice. “This is the Rebellion?”
Raghida frowned, “You know about it?”
“They talk about it all the time in the bloc. I thought it was just stories but...wow. They really hate you guys.”
For some strange reason this brought a grin to Talia’s face. “That means we're doing our job right.”
Zeta met her gaze and giggled. Her whole face opened up when she laughed, the brow rising, the mouth spreading. She probably wasn't aware that she was doing it, but Tia didn't like the way she made doe eyes at Talia. With a jolt, she realised what she had just thought. Oh, ew. She definitely needed to sleep.
She turned to Zeta. “You'll stay here in the Tunnels. One of us will be with you at all times. You don't wander off by yourself, ever. And this conversation doesn't go beyond this room.”
“So I went from being a prisoner there to being a prisoner here.”
“You're not a prisoner,” Raghida intercepted Tia’s reply. “We just need you to stay safe. You'll like it here, we’re like a family.”
Zeta folded her arms, “Yes, well, I had a family and they tortured me so...forgive me if that doesn't make me tingle with joy.”
“You are a snarky bitch aren't you?” Tia snapped.
Everyone in the room turned to stare at her. She looked back stubbornly.
“What? It's true. We just saved her from being milked for the rest of her life and all she can do is make sarcastic comments.”
Natalia quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe you should go and cool down.”
Tia glared. “Don't tell me what to do.”
That was pushing it. Natalia narrowed her eyes coldly. She didn't need to say anything. Tia could get away with a lot when it came to her, but she couldn't question her decisions as a leader in front of others. Tia threw her hands up out of frustration and left, slamming the infirmary door behind her. Bitch. Did she have to be such an arsehole all the time? At the back of her mind, she knew she was overreacting. But she was angry at what she had just learned, of all the violations Zeta had suffered, of the innocent lives the bloc had corrupted, of the sacrifice Quentin had made.
Andy was still dead, and Project Phoenix was still in motion.
She found her way to a sparring room with a crossbow. She didn't bother changing into gear, she just flung her jacket into the corner and picked up a bow. The targets were lined up at varying distances from the mark in the centre of the room. She was no longer tired, her veins sparking with irritation. She widened her stance, held the bow level, and took a deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Feel the bow as an extension of your arm. Don't let your arm drop, keep it straight. She focused on the centre of her first target, stepped forward, loosed the arrow. It went wide and bounced off the wall.
“Fuck.”
Calm. She lowered the bow and closed her eyes. She wasn't calm enough, her arm wasn't straight enough. She just couldn't get the image of Zeta’s scars out of her head. To go through that every month, like a sick parody of menstruation...turn the anger into focus. She raised the bow, released the arrow. It shot straight into the heart of the target. She pictured each target as a Bloc 3 scientist. Side step, second target, thwack. Spin, third target, thwack. She brought her body up into a roundhouse kick, fourth target, thwack. That one took it out of her and she lowered the bow for a moment to catch her breath. Her arm was wavering - she would have to make a point of practising with the bow more. It was, after all, one of her strengths.
Natalia found her there, a while later, shooting multiple arrows into the same target, making the hole in the centre wider and wider with the consistent thudding of the arrow heads. Tia was sweating, panting, as she loaded and loosed her arrows like a well oiled machine. She heard the footsteps before she made herself known. Tia whirled, aiming a notched arrow at her boots.
“You shouldn't sneak up on me.”
“I shouldn't be able to sneak up on you,” Talia replied.
She had a point. Tia smirked and lowered herself to the ground, placing the bow carefully beside her. “You're following me around a lot today.”
“You're running away a lot today.”
“You sent me away,” she snapped.
Talia’s blue eyes became icy. “About that.”
“You don't need to say it. I'm sorry. I'm out of control; I should remember my place.”
She was surprised at Tia’s quick, sincere apology. She paused - she had obviously been about to lecture Tia. She looked down at her for a moment and then sighed. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “You were jealous, huh?”
Tia’s head snapped up. “What?”
Natalia grinned wider, folded her long body down beside her. She stretched her legs out and her knee knocked against Tia’s. The gesture was small but it sent a buzz through Tia’s leg anyway. “Come on. I know you. Zeta liked what she saw, and you didn't like what you saw. Am I wrong?”
“You're not just wrong, you're conceited.”
Talia tilted her head, calling bullshit. She looked a lot healthier than she had done the last time Tia had seen her. Her eyes were bright, well rested, and her skin glowed. She looked very casual and had obviously been enjoying her down time. Tia wondered if she'd been thinking about the pool at all. She had. Her expression might have given it away because Talia dipped her eyes and said: “You've been hiding from me again.”
“I thought you'd want your space.”
“And what gave you that idea?”
“You looked very, very tired. I didn't want to disturb you.”
“I'm in charge of over 300 people; I'm always tired.”
Tia laughed and felt herself relax into her space. Okay, so maybe she had been avoiding her a little bit. But only because she still didn't know what to make of their...altercation. She glanced at her, noticing again that her hair was getting into her eyes, curling over her shoulders and giving her the appearance of being younger. It really was terribly uneven.
“Why haven’t you been cutting your hair?” Tia demanded. It was the least important issue they had to face but it gave her a sense of satisfaction that there was at least one problem she was equipped to fix. She didn't want to lose herself in all of this, and she didn't think it would be good for him to either. Someone else had to try and look after Talia apart from Talia.
