Sophie Littlefield - Rebirth

Deliberate- it was the perfect word to describe Ruthie, or more precisely, to describe the little girl she had become since her time in the Convent. Cautious, careful, painstaking. Cass missed the old carefree Ruthie so much it hurt-missed her laughter, missed the way she ran shrieking when they played tag, missed the way she collapsed into giggles during tickle fights.

Ruthie looked up from her drawing and smiled. That would have to be enough.

“Okay, then Mommy’s going to try to take a little nap, too. All right? I’m going to close the door, and I don’t want you to open it. Not for anyone. If someone comes, if someone knocks, I want you to wake me right up. Understand? Me or Dor.”

Despite her doubts about her ability to sleep, when Cass lay down she felt anxiety lessen a little. She was exhausted, and the mattress was soft and surprisingly comfortable, and the sun through the windows warmed the room. She began to drift, and the feeling was unexpectedly pleasant. Soon visions of her garden back in the Box swirled through her mind, the gaillardia plants sprouting buds and the ivy sending out pretty twining trailers. She dreamed of her garden until a sound interrupted her dream and she sat bolt up and discovered that she and Dor were alone, that the sun had crept higher in the sky and Ruthie had disappeared.

Cass rolled off the bed and hit the floor unsteadily, her legs heavy with sleep, her breath caught in her lungs. She steadied herself by clutching the bed frame and propelled herself toward the door with a surge of energy fueled by terror. Not again.

Not again.

Her panic lessened only slightly when she ran into the hall and saw a doughy woman with unusually careful posture walking slowly down the corridor toward the stairs, carrying Ruthie. When Ruthie saw Cass, she began to struggle.

“Mama!”

It was the loudest sound Ruthie had ever made. Cass ran down the hallway as the woman rocked Ruthie in a lazy slow dance as though she wasn’t screaming, wasn’t struggling. By the time Cass reached the pair, the woman clutched Ruthie more tightly in her arms, locking them around her small back so she was trapped. Ruthie pushed against the woman’s body as hard as she could, her pale skin damp and red with exertion.

“It’s all right, baby,” Cass said shakily, stopping short in case the woman had anything even crazier planned. “It’s all right. Listen, she’s frightened. If you could just set her down-”

“She’s fine,” the woman retorted, a little testily. “I have nieces, two of them. I know my way around kids.”

Was the woman as deranged as Malena? Cass turned over options wildly in her mind: make a grab for Ruthie, wrestle her away, run. But she saw that the woman had a blade at her belt, and Cass was unarmed. She would have to reason with her.

“Such a nice little girl,” the woman crooned, swaying back and forth. She was a dark-haired woman of medium height, slightly overweight, with her hair cut short and large eyeglasses with frames that overpowered her face. She was wearing a plaid skirt and plain, black high-heeled pumps, an unusual outfit in these times when everyone dressed for practicality. “Such a good girl. Being so good for Auntie Mary.”

Mary -Mary Vane? Could it be? Cass edged slowly closer.

“She’s heavy,” she said, willing her voice to be calm. “Ever since she turned three, I can barely lift her myself. Here, let me help you.”

“Well…all right. We can have another playdate later, can’t we, little Ruthie?” the woman said, setting Ruthie down on the floor and wincing when she straightened again, rubbing the small of her back. Ruthie rushed into Cass’s arms and Cass lifted her and felt the tension leave her small body, absorbed her relief as she went limp.

“She’s just so lovely, ” Mary said, as though nothing were amiss. “There’s nothing in the world like a child to give you hope, is there?”

Cass gaped at Mary. Despite her beatific smile, the effect fell far short of kindliness. She had the crafty look of someone with an unspoken agenda.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Mary added. “You and David looked like you needed your rest, and Ruthie didn’t seem to mind when I picked her up, so we were just walking up and down the hall together. I’m Mary Vane, of course,” she added, offering her hand for Cass to shake.

Dor stumbled into the hall, rubbing his hair with one hand. “Everything okay?”

“Certainly. Why wouldn’t it be?” Mary turned her wide smile on him. A tenuous grasp on reality, a zealot’s single-mindedness: these words came to mind. She wasn’t so different from Evangeline-but in her way, she was more frightening. Evangeline’s anger made her predictable; you knew she would seize every opportunity for cruelties small and large. But Mary’s changeable veneer could be concealing anything.

The mask Dor had assumed last night with Kaufman slipped back in place. “Nice joint you’re running here.”

“Thank you. I’m here with good news. What are the odds,” Mary said, drawing out her words, savoring them. “Your daughter-and Cass- both outliers. It’s statistically so unlikely as to be-well, not impossible, of course. Very little is impossible in nature, a fact that my colleagues are prone to forget, to their peril. To all of our peril. One has only to look at the centuries of human history that brought us to this juncture to arrive at that realization. But people don’t often learn from history, do they?”

The look on Mary’s face was calculating and intelligent, crafty and more than a little manic. Dor stepped subtly closer, putting his body between the two women.

“They told me Ruthie had a…strong reaction to the tests,” she continued. “I’m devastated, just utterly devastated, to think that we caused her any anxiety. But of course I wanted to see her for myself. She’s our youngest yet, you know-our youngest outlier.” She looked at Ruthie with something like hunger, and Cass edged closer to Dor, holding Ruthie tightly.

Mary’s gaze traveled over Cass: her face, her arms, lingering on the faint traces of the scars left over from bite wounds along her forearms. Cass felt her skin prickle and tingle under Mary’s scrutiny.

“Evangeline told me something very interesting,” she continued. “She says you were attacked by Beaters. Last summer. That you actually survived. I can’t tell you what this means, to our research, to our development program…”

Cass sucked in her breath. There was only one way Evangeline could have found out-by bribing or torturing the information from Cass’s only friend at the library. Elaine had helped her, had promised to keep her secrets. But how long would she have been able to keep them once Evangeline started pressuring her to tell?

Mary reached out a thin and bony hand, the nails chewed to red-rimmed scabs, and touched Cass’s skin so gently that the hairs tickled. It was all she could do not to jerk her arm away as she told a partial truth. “I don’t remember what happened to me.”

“Mmmm,” Mary hummed, and her hand slowly closed around Cass’s arm, tightening her grip until her knuckles went white. She lifted Cass’s wrist and stared at the pale soft underside, her nostrils flaring as though she was trying to smell the flesh. Then, abruptly, she released her and turned to Dor.

“I understand you were asking about the medical facility, David.”

Dor’s only reaction was a slight twitch of one eyebrow.

“Were you employed in a medical field, before? A physician perhaps?”

“No, sorry. I…sold computers, though. Had a few hospitals for clients.”

“Oh, I see. Well, as you might imagine, we do not have a great need for technical computer workers. Construction, yes. I don’t suppose you know masonry? Glazing?”