Page 101 of The Fall

“Am I?” Mashö did her best to copy and mock Kerr’s expression. “Disgusting is relative. It wasn’t too long ago we killed your kind on sight.”

“My kind?”

“The kind that does what you do with your girlfriend. There is much she hasn’t told you.”

Be Innocent of the Knowledge

How much did Lusa keep from me? Kerr knew she had secrets. She had no right to them after a scant two days. But Mashö was insinuating that she did. Kerr tried to catch her breath, but her nose throbbed after Cinder’s beating. Mind games. Just like Chalice, she told herself. “Such as?”

Mashö plucked two dental implants from her mouth and threw them on the ground. They skittered across the bare concrete. “Her mother is part of a line that was isolated from the rest of the world. And when the virus came, it missed her.” Mashö’s eyes glinted like she was divulging a secret over tea and not holding Kerr captive. “We were isolated as well. New seas cut our mountains off from the rest and we were left to die on our own.” Mashö raised her chin. “Hard lives make hard people.” She removed one contact lens. Then the other.

“What virus? What are you talking about?” Kerr thought she would be learning about Lusa. This had nothing to do with her.

“You really have no idea?” Mashö blinked. Her natural eyes had the same deep brown hue as Lusa’s. “It doesn’t matter. What I want is Model 2. And the Adlets.”

“Why? You know they don’t have any tech?” Kerr shifted in her seat, her joints stiffening.

“You may be worth nothing, but they aren’t. Your girlfriend is still fertile. All of them are.”

Kerr fell back into the chair. Lusa having sisters suddenly made so much sense. As did why they were hiding. Of course, Lusa would be secretive. Her, Pinga, all of them would have giant targets on their backs if anyone found out.

“And they’re growing in number.” Mashö’s voice sharpened, her vocal implant distorting. “Which means they must have an uninfected male.”

“Uninfe..” Kerr’s forehead hurt. “What are you on about?”

Mashö walked away, only to return with a chair that looked like it would collapse under her weight. She sat on it anyway, crossing her legs in a way that looked both elegant and threatening. “The reason you can use implants and she cannot – we cannot, is because the virus allows it. But there is a cost.” She produced a flame from some device Kerr had never seen before, lighting a simcig. “Little robots, made at conception. They build your central processing array. It infects men, they spread it to the women.”

“Twenty-four.” Mashö blew a stream of smoke “When was the last woman to have a child after that?”

Kerr waited for the answer. Mashö tipped her simcig. “I don’t know?”

“Lusa’s mother. Giving birth to her fifth sister.” She looked Kerr in the eye. “We learned of it from traders.”

Kerr tried to angle her head away from the smoke, but it was futile. “And you think they have a man without the virus?”

“We dwindle while they increase. Time is running out.”

For the first time, Kerr felt a twinge of sympathy for her captor. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Mashö took another long drag. “I need to know where they are hiding. You will do this for me.”

Interlude

It wasn’t often that Talia had a chance to observe a girl that had caught her daughter’s eye. After Danica, Lusa hadn’t introduced any of them to her. The experience, and Talia’s wisdom may have bonded them, but it also scarred her for life. The poor girl believed she was dangerous.

Which wasn’t necessarily untrue. They both were. But a mother still wants her daughter to be happy.

And so, perched in the rafters, she got to watch Lusa’s girlfriend be interrogated by this bloviating gobshite rather than doing it herself over a pot of Callie’s stew and a pint of Cam’s ale.

Her lopsided smile spreading across her face, Talia approved when Kerr said fuck you. Mashö wasn’t pleased, but Talia couldn’t be more elated. Lusa had found someone who could take a beating and remain defiant. Positively romantic, as far as young love went.

Itching to slaughter Mashö right now, Talia remained where she was. That wasn’t the plan. The old Talia would have, but Callie had been good for her. She’d tamed her, like that mountain lion that now dragged deer carcases to the edge of the woods. Absurd, if you thought too hard about it.

And she was grateful. Callie and Sesi had been there for her every step of the way. Every jolt in the middle of the night. Every trader who tried to take advantage. Every loss of control.

They grounded her. Reminded her that they had created something bigger than themselves. Something that needed her focused and stable and alive. She was a mother now.

Mothers protected and nurtured. Mothers did not go on vengeance sprees. Which is why Callie left out who had actually killed Piston when it came time to explain what happened to Sesi.