The Last Mate on Earth

Part 1 - Chapter 11

* * * Hopes POV * * *

I fall asleep in the car on the way back, which isn’t surprising because of the early start, the overload to my senses of being outside and the emotion that’s flooded me. The first thing I do when I’m back in my room, sitting on my bed, is open the book of letters, reread the first paragraph, kiss the page and bury it under my pillow. I’m desperate to carry on, but it’s getting late.

The Parents will come in soon to get me ready, and I don’t want them to see it or talk about it. Not yet. For a second, I find myself wondering whether Parent Rita knows I’ve got it, but, of course, she knows everything. Does that matter? That’s a question for another day. I have been handed an unexpected gift from my Parent. In many ways, wise old Parent Hannah was right about choosing where to channel my energy. My chest swells at the thought of returning to my Mother’s handwriting a little later, but now I must focus on the day ahead and the encounter with Prospect Number Two.

The Parents enter en masse and start to get me ready. It’s noticeably calmer than last time. There’s less of the buzz as they go about their tasks. Or perhaps I’m setting the tone: I’m more relaxed than before. Being at the stream has conquered my nerves, while the gift of my Parent’s words has propelled me into the day ahead. Of course, I’m eager for the meeting, but I’m looking forward to afterwards and spending time alone with my Parent’s notebook. Perhaps the Parents are mirroring what I’m projecting. We fall into silence as I’m handed a pretty dress, similar to the one I wore for my last meeting. Only this time, it’s hidden beneath the uniform of the Parents. Similarly, my hair is styled and then hidden. My make-up is perfected.

As Parent Hannah pins my headscarf into place, she lets out a sigh of dismay. My longest-serving friend has been pensive since we got back. Her wrinkled face is a little tighter than usual, making her look almost stern. Something is on her mind – that’s not an expression I’m used to seeing on her. “It’s such a shame to be covering you," she mumbles, the hooded skin over her eyes creasing further.

“It’s only for the first meeting,” I say reassuringly, our roles reversing as I try to put her mind at ease. We’ve had a great morning, and I’m buoyed up on the strength of it.

“It’s just so unnatural this way,” she continues, in no more than a whisper, her face screwing up in agitation.

“Can we really call any of this natural?” I ask, my voice low and measured.

“Maybe not,” she agrees, gently brushing my cheek. The affectionate gesture makes me smile. Her disappointment in the change of procedure is understandable. After last time, I know how much these meetings mean to the Parents: I saw their disappointment etched on their faces and heard it in Parent Hannah’s sobs. Not only are these encounters a promise of the future, but they’re also a reminder of the past. The thought of the outside world creates fire at my core. Soon Parent Hannah’s old world could be a part of my future, if the final encounters go well. Reading my Parent’s letters has brought excitement, belief and a renewed sense of hope for what’s to come.

“Where did you meet your husband?” I ask. Parent Hannah takes a deep breath as she debates whether to answer or not.

“Go on,” I whisper.

“At a bar in the city,” she blurts before she can stop herself. She blushes as she turns to the dressing table and busies herself with packing away her beautifying tool kit.

“It was before they stopped allowing us into such places.”

“Why did they stop you?”

“They thought it wasn’t a good idea. They were right,” she concedes, snapping shut an eyeshadow to emphasise her point.

“What was it like? When you first met?” I sit on my bed, unsure that I’ll get a response. I want to hear more now that she’s started to open up. She’s talked of her husband before, of course. Just little bits here and there – enough for me to know how smitten they were and how heartbroken she was to lose him. That’s the thing about the Parents. The majority are here because they have a tragic tale to share, although they rarely tell it. Not to me, anyway. I know she loved and lost and that her loss brought her to me. To have Parent Hannah, who knows so much about me, telling me more about herself has me rapt.

“It was electric,” she says plainly, flinching as she lets the memories in. “I knew there was no way I was leaving that night without the promise of seeing him again. He asked me to marry him two weeks later.”

“Two weeks?” I gasp. She giggles.

“It was a different time. It felt good to be spontaneous. When you have a mate, it is different. Even though …’ She trails off, her face caving just a little. “I still wouldn’t change it. We were born to be together. Even if it ended far sooner than it should have done, his heart was mine, and mine his. My life became full because of him.”

“It sounds so romantic.”

“It was,” she whispers, zipping up the last bag and looking me over once more. Her face is serene despite the sadness. “He made my life full, but you’ve made it complete. The future will be filled with connections like that because you’re here and doing what you’re doing. Thank you,” she adds. “Look for that special something, Hope. Seek out love … Or, rather, allow love to seek out you.”

I smile at her. What is love? I’ve read about it in books and expressed it in dance classes while stretching my limbs, but what does it feel like? “Our girl,” Parent Hannah says, reaching over and stroking my cheek so that I’m looking directly at her. “You’re Hoperything we could’ve wished for, far more than we prayed for. Now, let’s go.” She turns away. I follow her out of the room and stand in my new position within the formation, behind Parent Hannah, in front of the other silent Parents. This time there’s no muttering of excitement.

Instead, it’s as if there’s a job to do, and Hoperyone wants to execute it to perfection. I hear a rustle of clothing as faces are obscured. I follow suit, my fingers clumsy with the fabric. We go. Hedley and his team are waiting for us when we walk out of the lift, causing a wave of heat to crawl up my neck to my face as I have a flashback to my meeting with the first Prospect. The sight of them makes me feel ashamed and embarrassed. Even though I know they can’t be, I feel like they’re all staring at me, maybe Hopen sniggering. As we walk past their formation, an urge comes over me, and I steal a glance at the closest guard. It’s something I’ve never done before, but today I can’t help it.

Curiosity and paranoia force my eyes towards the stranger whose job it is to protect me. He’s young, maybe a couple of years older than me. He’s incredibly tall, with dark hair and a muscular physique, his cheeks chiselled, his eyes focusing straight ahead. It’s like he’s unaware I’m just a few feet away from him. He blinks and swallows, his Adam’s apple jolting upwards. Then, as though he can sense someone looking at him, his eyes flick nervously in my direction and lock with mine. I gasp, my whole body tensing in alarm. That wasn’t meant to happen. That isn’t allowed to happen. “Everything okay?” Parent Hannah whispers.

“I must have a rogue pin in my dress or something,” I lie as I rub my thigh, taking a deep breath to steady my pounding heart. I’ve been testing the rules lately, but throwing a rock towards the dome and questioning the facility is nothing compared to disregarding orders put in place to keep us all safe.

“Want me to look?” Parent Hannah offers, slowing her pace. There’s a scuffle behind us as the rest of the Parents realise that something’s occurred. I hear Parent Kimberley apologise and Parent Tabia tut.

“No. I’m fine,” I mutter, her kindness adding to my guilt. We press on. This time I keep my eyes on the floor in front of us because I’m scared of them landing on anyone else. As before, Rita steps out of her spyhole and strides over as soon as we’re outside the chosen meeting room, the heels of her boots making hardly any sound on the marble floor.

“Are you clear on everything?” she barks.

“Yes. Let Parent Hannah do the talking.”

“Correct.” She sniffs. “She’ll enter once you’re seated. Lawrence doesn’t know you’re here. He thinks it’s another training exercise before the meeting later. To reiterate our earlier discussion, do not let yourself be known until I say so.”

She’s always telling me what to do, and I hate that. This is my encounter, my Prospect. None of this would be happening if I didn’t exist. Rita used to understand that, but now she’s nothing like the woman who chased me through the meadow. Instead, sometimes, it’s as though she looks at me with disgust, and I’m unsure how to process that shift. “I’ll be watching,” she says, gesturing for Hedley to open the door and let the meeting commence.

“Go.” Lawrence is shorter than I imagined. This is the first thing I notice as I walk into the room. He’s not far off my height. His skin is rough and dark, his eyes small and beady. He wears a plain white shirt over brown trousers with matching brown leather shoes. His mustard blazer gives him an earthy appearance, as though he’s at one with nature. I like that. He’s also wearing a straw hat, trimmed with an extended length of red fabric and a piece of white ribbon to keep it in place. It jars with the rest of his outfit. I’ve seen something similar in history books, so I imagine it has something to do with his Egyptian heritage. It’s touching that he’s honouring his ancestors. He doesn’t look nervous like Jason did. He looks controlled and centred.

He barely moves as we all enter. Shuffling in as one of the Parents is entirely different from walking in as me. It’s the first time I’ve been part of the group, rather than with it, which makes me sad: this is an isolated occasion, and soon I’ll just be Hope again. Lawrence doesn’t even register our existence. I’m not used to that: Hope gets pandered to wherever she goes. To be ignored is an alien sensation. It’s a little thrilling to go unnoticed. To blend. We find our seats quickly and without fuss.

“I hope you’ve not been waiting long,” Parent Hannah calls as she enters the room wearing a floor-length pink gown and cream wedge heels. My heart soars when I see the subtle, delicate glint behind her eyes. I know this’ll go smoothly, that we’re all in safe hands.

Lawrence shrugs despondently. “Did you have a nice dinner last night?” Parent Hannah asks, not discouraged, as she sits on the chair opposite him with her back to us.

“Richer than I’m used to, but it was food,” Lawrence replies, his voice lacking warmth or kindness. Perhaps he’s annoyed at having to speak to Parent Hannah again rather than meeting me. Or, like myself, he may not be in the mood for small talk, with the weight of humanity’s future on his shoulders. Either way, it’s surprising he hasn’t succumbed to Parent Hannah’s upbeat personality. She always puts a smile on my face.

“Let’s use this as a rehearsal for later, shall we?” She’s trying to warm him up so that this meeting isn’t another waste of time. It’s funny being in the room like this, knowing that Holly is working for Rita. I wonder if they’re communicating in some way and whether they use the same tactics when they’re with me. The thought sobers me a little. I look to Lawrence and will him to perk up, to give us something.

“Let’s pretend that I’m Hope,” continues Parent Hannah. “Feel free to talk to me as you’d talk to her. You can use this time to practise.”

Lawrence’s eyes go from Parent Hannah and drift to the floor in front of the Parents and me. His gaze trails along our line of shoes and continues to the steel-toed boots of the other males in the room. The action makes my breath catch in my throat.

“It is a pleasure to meet with you,” he says slowly, his words clear through his thick accent. He lifts his eyes, so they’re back on Parent Hannah, his face relaxing.

“That’s better,” Parent Hannah says, and I hear the smile in her voice, a look Lawrence mirrors as one side of his mouth inches up a fraction.

“Forgive me; this is new for me,” he says, shaking his head.

“This is new for everyone.” Parent Hannah laughs kindly. “None of us really knows what we’re doing so let’s just keep this casual and friendly. Yes?”

Lawrence nods and shuffles in his seat, getting himself into a comfier position. She’s won him over, as I knew she would.

“Tell me about your life in Egypt.”

“I study maths and history. I like learning.”

“That’s good. Hope is always picking up new skills and knowledge. It’s good you have that in common,” she sings. It’s odd hearing her talk about me as though I’m not in the room. I can’t help but wonder what else she’s going to tell him about me.

“I have a family,” he goes on.

“Yes.”

“Four brothers,” he continues. “Our family owned a farm. The crops died. Our animals died.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“My father died,” he says, without emotion – perhaps because he doesn’t want to break down in a roomful of strangers. Even though I didn’t know my own parents, I still feel full of sorrow that they’re not here with me. “I study and learn to help my family,” he continues earnestly. “I want a good job.”

“That’s great. It’s always important to be ambitious.”

“That I am,” he concurs.

“How did you find the process of becoming a Prospect?” Parent Hannah asks, tilting her head to one side while her elbows slide across the desk, moving her closer to Lawrence. It’s a look she gives me when she wants me to confide in her – so open, friendly and sympathetic. “I imagine it hasn’t been easy so far. Perhaps your ambition has helped.” I know very little about how the Prospects were selected. Genetic compatibility, of course, psychological profiling, physical studies, beliefs, perhaps – I imagine they were subjected to every possible testing method the EPO could think of to whittle the population down to the chosen few. However, studying Lawrence, a simple man who doesn’t seem extraordinary in any way, it’s hard to imagine what they saw in him. Or what attributes they felt would be beneficial to any future offspring.

“I studied hard,” Lawrence agrees, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his palms. “This is an honour. To be here. To be chosen. I’ve taken it very seriously. I’ve prayed and asked for guidance. Become all I can be,” he says passionately, now spreading his hands across his chest. “Earth needs us to be strong. To give ourselves over for the cause.”

In appearance, Lawrence is small and uninteresting, but inside him, there’s a fire that draws me to him. His words are impassioned. He makes sense. What is your first thought when you wake up in the morning?” I stop breathing as my question is asked, longing to hear his answer.

“I think of my father. How proud he would be to see me here. He taught me that in life, we must seize every opportunity. I wake up in the morning wanting to make him proud. He had the courage—a strong heart. I am the same. I will always be grateful to him.”

So he does regularly think of his loss. I think of my own parents once more and the book of letters hidden in my room. I have no idea if I inherited my Parent’s eyes or my father’s love of all things sweet, but I’m about to find out. Soon I’ll know what their dreams were for me. I hope that one day I, too, will be able to think of my parents and know that I have made them proud. I catch myself absent-mindedly rubbing the scar on my wrist. My father. I stop myself and slowly place my hands on my thighs. When I look up, Lawrence is gazing at me.

“Planet Earth is fragile. It needs us to fulfil our duties,” he continues.

“Indeed, we all have a role to play,” says Parent Hannah, with a beaming smile.

“I want to help her.”

“Earth?” Parent Hannah asks, sounding confused. “Mother Nature?”

“Hope,” he corrects as he hangs his head towards us seated ladies. “I know she’s here. I know she’s heard what I’ve said.” My breath catches in my throat. I want to hear more from this unlikely character. “Together, we can make a difference,” he goes on, his hand softly tapping at his heart. “Together, we can ensure the future for humanity is as it should be. Hope, tell me you’re here. Stand and show me. Tell me you want the same as I do.”

I inhale deeply, his words touching me and holding me captive, my body aching to move in agreement. “I do,” Parent Hannah declares unexpectedly, sensing I was about to speak.

Her veiled chin rises with youthful pride, imitating me. I sense all eyes in the room turning to my impersonator, taking everyone by surprise as she steps beyond duty to protect my identity. I glance back into the centre of the room just as Lawrence’s empty seat crashes to the floor. He’s no longer there. Instead, he looms over Parent Hannah and stops her from standing tall. My heart freezes as I see her head jolt violently, his hands gripping her throat and squeezing the soft flesh. Screaming fills the room. I’ve never heard a sound like it before.

Now she’s weakened; his hands move to either side of her beautiful face, jolting her around so that she’s facing us, her friends, her family – watching in horror. Not one of the dozen armed members of Hedley’s security team can get to her in time. He grabs her by the mouth and wrenches her jaw skyward in one swift movement. Her eyes lock on to mine as they bulge in pain. Fear. Relief. Before I can get to her, two strong arms grab me from behind, hands covering my mouth, stifling the scream as I’m dragged away from the horror unfolding before me.