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I exited through the door that led outside and the wind whipped my clothes and made them crack and ruffle noisily.
The desert wind was cold at night and frighteningly hot during the daytime. The rolling sand dunes would be the little infant’s final resting place. An entire life lived in mere minutes. He hadn’t lived. He hadn’t loved. He had this plague put upon him through no fault of his own, and now he was to be buried out here.
The shuttlecraft stood before me. The method of escape was so close, only it was too late. There was no point in getting away now. Not with the baby’s life torn from it and no chance Harper would ever forgive me for what I had done.
Not that I deserved redemption. I deserved everything I had coming to me, and more.
The wind was so strong it slid my tears across my face and flew off the tip of my nose and the curl of my cheekbone, sailing to the ground far below.
Where the child would sleep for the rest of whatever life he had remaining.
I felt something. A soft glow of golden light from the child’s breast, so soft it might not have been there at all. I clutched the baby close to my chest and passed my apologies to the infant with a prayer.
I looked over my shoulder at the narrow strip of window that Tus and Rarr stood watching me from. No doubt ordered by Krial earlier to ensure I did as he ordered.
The ceremony wasn’t complete without the destruction of the young vessel.
Could I do this? Could I do what I must?
I looked at the baby a moment longer. Though he was old and grey, he was still my son.
I took confidence in that fact and raised my arm out, holding the baby in a single arm above my head.
The baby raised his arms, his grey skin visible in the sharp white moonlight.
And then I let go.
The baby sailed down, down, down toward the sharp rocks and curved sandbanks below.
I looked over my shoulder at Tus and Rarr. I didn’t know what I expected to see on their faces. Instead, they showed nothing, and turned and left the window.
Further along, at a smaller window, stood Annas, watching me, lit by soft light from the bedroom behind her. In her eyes, I would have expected a look of triumph, of victory, but there was none in her features. I only saw sadness and the resolute look of someone disgusted with herself.
She turned her head as if someone spoke to her from inside. She shut the curtains without giving me another look and was gone.
7
HARPER
I lay staring at the blank wall. Staring, and yet I saw nothing.
Figures moved in front of me and spoke, their voices slow and haltering. I could only make out their knees and the tops of their foot coverings. Sometimes they wore sheer dresses, other times they were bare, and other times still, they wore clothes that covered them head to toe.
And still, I just stared.
I didn’t even really see the stain on the wall, formed by moisture that had soaked the paint. It didn’t remind me of anything, which was a good thing. Thinking of nothing right then was better than thinking of anything.
Because it could too easily lead me back to that moment…
And so, I stared at the wall and saw nothing.
Some spoke words of comfort, of understanding, though I doubted many really understood what I was going through.
The girls in the Prize Pool seemed to be under the illusion I had lost the baby. And in a way, I suppose I had.
When they took the baby—it was so much easier to think of it as “the” baby rather than “my” baby—I was forced to watch as another tiny little human being was taken from my arms and given to God knows who.
This time, I felt certain the new parent would not be as good as I would have been.
