19. Sullha
SULLHA
T he phone rang while Sullha was trying to figure out how the washing machine worked, the sound startling her so badly that she nearly dropped the instruction manual.
Her phone was ringing. Someone was calling her.
She fished it out of her pocket and stared at the screen, which showed a photograph of Bowen's smiling face next to a green circle.
She knew what to do.
Raviki had shown her, and then Sullha had shown three of the others, and they had tested it, calling each other, and yet, standing next to the washing machine with the device buzzing in her palm, she needed a moment to remember that all she had to do was touch the green circle.
"Hello?" she said, too loudly, holding the phone the way she'd been taught against her cheek even though it felt strange, like speaking to someone by using a bar of soap.
"Sullha. It's Bowen." She would have known it was him by the sound of his voice. "How are you and Tomek doing?"
She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say. "I'm trying to figure out how the washing machine works, Tomek is playing in his room, and my mother is resting. The bed is holding her prisoner because it is so comfortable."
He laughed. "Thank you for the detailed account, and I'm glad that your mother is enjoying the bed. Listen, Margaret and I were thinking of stopping by this afternoon, if that's all right with you."
"Of course, it's all right. It's more than all right." Sullha pressed the phone tighter to her ear. "You don't need to call me and ask. You can stop by anytime you want. You're always welcome here."
"That's kind of you but calling first is the polite thing on this side of the world because we have phones and we are encouraged to use them. You'll get used to it in time. We'll see you in an hour or so."
She stood there for a moment after the call ended, holding the phone against her chest, absurdly pleased with herself for having answered it correctly, and then the practical part of her mind caught up with what he'd said.
Guests were coming. Her first guests, in her first house.
She needed to wear something nicer.
Everything in her closet was just too beautiful to wear, so she'd chosen the simplest things: a pair of stretchy pants that were so comfortable they felt like wearing nothing, and a short-sleeved shirt that was pink and had a picture of a cat printed on the front. It was also incredibly soft.
Perhaps she needed to wear a dress to receive guests?
Every time she'd been summoned to the breeding building, they had made her wear dresses, and they had been the nicest things she'd ever put on her body, but they hadn't been hers, and they hadn't been nearly as nice as the two hanging in her new closet in her new house.
The closet that was larger than the room she'd shared with Tomek in the enclosure.
It looked nearly empty, and yet it contained a treasure trove of outfits. Dresses, blouses, and trousers hung in a neat row, all of them new, all of them in her size, and on the shelf below sat four pairs of shoes.
Four pairs.
In the enclosure she'd owned work boots, cracked along the seams and resoled twice, and a pair of plastic slides for after work.
Both pairs had been used when she'd gotten them, and the tread on the slides had been worn smooth along one edge by a stranger's gait.
Sullha's feet had never fit into the mold that the previous owner had left behind.
Everything she had ever put on her body had been used, issued, inherited, or made over from something else.
Nothing in this closet had ever belonged to anyone but her.
She chose a soft green dress and a pair of black shoes with a small heel that made her look a little taller. Then she stepped in front of the mirror and examined her reflection.
That was another luxury. Her own full-sized mirror.
In the enclosure, the only mirrors were in the communal bathroom, and they weren't of such good quality. They were old and faded.
This one was clear, and the woman looking back at her did not look like she'd come from the enclosure.
Her hair was clean and shining, falling loose past her shoulders.
Sullha had washed it twice and worked through it with product from every bottle and tube that she'd found lined up on the bathroom shelf.
She'd read all the instructions and smelled each one before applying it.
Naturally, they all smelled wonderful, and her hair had responded the way it never had to the simple soap they had been provided with in the enclosure.
Her dark, shiny tresses looked beautiful against the backdrop of the green dress, which fit her body perfectly.
She wished Yaaf could see her like this.
The thought made the constant ache of separation from him flare, and she put her hand over her chest to soothe it.
Only two days had passed since they had parted, and already being away from him felt like there was a hook in her chest that was attached to a rubber band that had been pulled taut.
She could never have imagined becoming so attached to a man that his absence felt like the absence of air.
She couldn't fill her lungs enough to take a deep breath.
She needed to see him.
"Mama!" Tomek's voice carried from the living room. "Someone is knocking on the door! Should I open it?"
She hadn't even heard the knock.
"I will do that," she called back.
When she opened it, Bowen filled the doorway, and beside him stood a slim woman with warm brown eyes, brown hair, and a soft smile that looked a little shy, as if she wasn't sure of her welcome.
"Sullha, this is Margaret. My mate. She's eager to meet both of you after all I have told her about you and Tomek."
"Please, come in." Sullha stepped back. "You are the first official guests in my new home." She shook her head. "I still can't believe that this is mine."
"I know the feeling," Margaret said, offering her hand. "How did you learn to speak English so well?"
"The older boys in the breeders' enclosure were taught foreign languages to prepare them for their service in the Brotherhood, and the girls were allowed to join if they wanted to. I sat in on quite a few classes, and I learned the rest from books."
"It's admirable."
Tomek came skidding around the corner from his bedroom so fast his socks nearly betrayed him on the polished floor.
"Bowen!" He stopped right in front of the Guardian, then noticed Margaret. "Who are you?"
"This is Margaret," Sullha told him in the island tongue. "Bowen's mate."
"Oh." Tomek studied her for exactly two seconds before reaching a verdict. "Do you want to see my toys?" he asked, ignoring the fact that the woman obviously didn't understand a word he was saying. "I have a whole box of cars. They are so shiny."
"Margaret doesn't speak our language, sweetheart."
"Toys don't need words." Tomek shrugged, took Margaret's hand, and tugged her along.
Sullha translated and added an apology.
Margaret laughed. "He's right. Toys don't need words."
She let Tomek tow her toward his bedroom, with him chattering about what he was about to show her, and her nodding along as though she understood every word.
"Margaret never learned the old tongue," Bowen said, watching them go. "She is new to our community. She was human up until not too long ago when we met."
Sullha tilted her head. "What do you mean? What is she now?"
He frowned. "Immortal. She was a dormant carrier of the godly genes, just like you, and she transitioned into immortality."
Sullha forgot how to breathe. "How is that possible? Women cannot transition."
Bowen's expression shifted from confusion to a dawning understanding that carried an edge of dismay.
"Nobody's explained this to you?" he asked.
"Explained what?"
"The truth about dormant godly genes and transitioning into immortality."
"We were told that only males can become immortal.
The boys were taken at thirteen because that was when they were ready to be induced.
Girls can't be induced. They can only pass on the godly genes to their children.
Their task is to bear boys for the army and girls for the breeding program.
That's how it has always been. That is how it is. "
"Fates." Bowen dragged a hand down his face. "I assumed someone had walked you all through all of this by now."
"There was no time. We only arrived yesterday.
We were settling in and resting, learning to use the appliances in our home and the phones.
" She heard her own voice going faint and forced herself to steady it.
"What is it that we need to know? The thing that we were supposed to be walked through, whatever that means. "
Her English was good, but some phrases made no sense to her, and she suspected that this was one of them.
"The version you were told on the island is Brotherhood propaganda. It's not true."
"So, what is the truth?"
"I'm not the best person for this." Bowen glanced toward the hallway, where Margaret was emerging from Tomek's room with an illustrated book in one hand and Tomek attached to the other.
"Sullha doesn't know that female Dormants can transition.
Can you explain it to her? You know how bad I am at this. "
Margaret's eyebrows rose, and she looked at Sullha with an expression that held so much compassion that Sullha's stomach tightened in anticipation of whatever was coming.
"Of course. It was all new to me not too long ago, but I think I've got all the facts straight by now." Margaret sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside her.
Sullha accepted the invitation and sat next to Margaret. Bowen took the armchair across from them.
Tomek looked from one serious face to another and realized that it was time for grownups' boring talk, so he took his illustrated book from Margaret's hand and returned to his room.
"Both boys and girls can carry the godly genes," Margaret said. "But they can be passed down only through the mothers."