“Good. I will be brief. First, I must inform you, Aunt Immortelle, of something that the other two already know. Baby Nicole is here in Gilead.”
I was confused: why would the girl Jade have been told such an important piece of news? She could have no idea of what an impact the appearance of such an iconic figure would have among us.
“Really? Oh, praise be, Aunt Lydia!” said Becka. “That is such wonderful news. Here? In Gilead? But why have we not all been told? It’s like a miracle!”
“Control yourself, please, Aunt Immortelle. I must now add that Baby Nicole is the half-sister of Aunt Victoria.”
“No shit!” Jade exclaimed. “I don’t believe this!”
“Jade, I did not hear that,” said Aunt Lydia. “Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control.”
“Sorry,” Jade mumbled.
“Agnes! I mean, Aunt Victoria!” Becka said. “You have a sister! That is so joyful!! And it’s Baby Nicole! You are so lucky, Baby Nicole is so adorable.” There was the standard picture of Baby Nicole on Aunt Lydia’s walclass="underline" she was indeed adorable, but then, all babies are adorable. “May I hug you?” Becka said to me. She was fighting hard to be positive. It must have been sad for her that I had a known relative but she did not have any: even her pretend father had just been shamefully executed.
“Calm, please,” said Aunt Lydia. “Time has passed since Baby Nicole was a baby. She is now grown up.”
“Of course, Aunt Lydia,” said Becka. She sat down, folded her hands in her lap.
“But if she is here in Gilead, Aunt Lydia,” I said, “where is she, exactly?”
Jade laughed. It was more like a bark.
“She is at Ardua Hall,” said Aunt Lydia, smiling. It was like a guessing game: she was enjoying herself. We must have looked mystified. We knew everyone at Ardua Hall, so where was Baby Nicole?
“She is in this room,” Aunt Lydia announced. She waved a hand. “Jade here is Baby Nicole.”
“It can’t be!” I said. Jade was Baby Nicole? Therefore Jade was my sister?
Becka sat with her mouth open, staring at Jade. “No,” she whispered. Her face was woeful.
“Sorry about not being adorable,” Jade said. “I tried, but I’m terrible at it.” I believe she meant it as a joke, to lighten the atmosphere.
“Oh—I didn’t mean…” I said. “It’s just…you don’t look like Baby Nicole.”
“No she does not,” said Aunt Lydia. “But she does look like you.” It was true, up to a point: the eyes yes, but not the nose. I glanced down at Jade’s hands, folded for once in her lap. I wanted to ask her to stretch out her fingers so I could compare them to mine, but I felt that might be offensive. I didn’t wish her to think I was demanding too much evidence of her genuineness, or else rejecting her.
“I’m very happy to have a sister,” I said to her politely, now that I was overcoming the shock. This awkward girl shared a mother with me. I’d have to try my best.
“You’re both so lucky,” said Becka. Her voice was wistful.
“And you’re like my sister,” I told her, “so Jade is like your sister too.” I didn’t want Becka to feel left out.
“May I hug you?” Becka said to Jade; or, as I suppose I should now call her in this account, Nicole.
“Yeah, I guess,” said Nicole. She then received a little hug from Becka. I followed suit. “Thanks,” she said.
“Thank you, Aunts Immortelle and Victoria,” said Aunt Lydia. “You are demonstrating an admirable spirit of acceptance and inclusion. Now I must trouble you for your full attention.”
We turned our faces towards her. “Nicole will not be with us for long,” said Aunt Lydia. “She will be leaving Ardua Hall shortly, and travelling back to Canada. She will be taking an important message with her. I want you both to help her.”
I was astonished. Why was Aunt Lydia letting her go back? No convert ever went back—it was treason—and if that person was Baby Nicole, it was treason ten times over.
“But, Aunt Lydia,” I said. “That is against the law, and also God’s will as proclaimed by the Commanders.”
“Indeed, Aunt Victoria. But as you and Aunt Immortelle have now read a good many of the secret files I have been placing in your way, are you not aware of the deplorable degree of corruption that currently exists in Gilead?”
“Yes, Aunt Lydia, but surely…” I had not been certain that Becka, too, had been treated to the crime files. Both of us had obeyed the TOP SECRET classification; but more importantly, each of us had wished to spare the other.
“The aims of Gilead at the outset were pure and noble, we all agree,” she said. “But they have been subverted and sullied by the selfish and the power-mad, as so often happens in the course of history. You must wish to see that set right.”
“Yes,” said Becka, nodding. “We do wish it.”
“Remember, too, your vows. You pledged yourselves to help women and girls. I trust you meant that.”
“Yes, Aunt Lydia,” I said. “We did.”
“This will be helping them. Now, I don’t want to force you to do anything against your will, but I must state the position clearly. Now that I have told you this secret—that Baby Nicole is here, and that she will soon be acting as a courier for me—every minute that passes in which you do not divulge this secret to the Eyes will count as treachery. But even if you do divulge it, you may still be severely punished, perhaps even terminated for having held back, even for an instant. Needless to say, I myself will be executed, and Nicole will soon be no better than a caged parrot. If she won’t comply, they’ll kill her, one way or another. They won’t hesitate: you’ve read the crime files.”
“You can’t do that to them!” Nicole said. “That’s not fair, it’s emotional blackmail!”
“I appreciate your views, Nicole,” said Aunt Lydia, “but your juvenile notions of fairness do not apply here. Keep your sentiments to yourself, and if you wish to see Canada again it would be wise to consider that a command.”
She turned to the two of us. “You are, of course, free to make your own decisions. I will leave the room; Nicole, come with me. We wish to give your sister and her friend a little privacy in which to consider the possibilities. We will return in five minutes. At that time, I shall simply require a yes or a no from you. Other details regarding your mission will be supplied in good time. Come, Nicole.” She took Nicole by the arm and steered her out of the room.
Becka’s eyes were wide and frightened, as mine must have been. “We have to do it,” Becka said. “We can’t let them die. Nicole is your sister, and Aunt Lydia…”
“Do what?” I said. “We don’t know what she’s asking for.”
“She’s asking for obedience and loyalty,” said Becka. “Remember how she rescued us—both of us? We have to say yes.”
After leaving Aunt Lydia’s office, Becka went to the library for her day shift, and Nicole and I walked back to our apartment together.
“Now that we’re sisters,” I said, “you can call me Agnes when we’re alone.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” Nicole said.
We went into the main room. “I have something I want to share with you,” I said. “Just a minute.” I went upstairs. I’d been keeping the two pages from the Bloodlines files under my mattress, folded up small. When I returned, I unfolded them carefully and flattened them out. Once I’d laid them out on the table, Nicole—like me—couldn’t resist placing her hand on the picture of our mother.
“This is amazing,” she said. She took her hand off, studied the picture again. “Do you think she looks like me?”