Chapter Text
As a child, Rosa had never been the most obedient student, nor the most dedicated- in fact, many of her younger days were spent watching for the opportunity to sneak away from her classes and the watchful eye of the teachers and older students who were supposed to be minding her and her cohort. She hadn’t been among the worst of them by any means, but there were far more absences on her record than the average jade’s, and her dorm’s chaperone often found her bed empty when she came around for surprise midnight checks.
Still, there was something comforting in knowing where she was supposed to be and what she was supposed to do, even if she chose to rebel against it for a brief moment. She was reprimanded for her truancy many times, but she never had any trouble keeping up with her classmates, and by the time she and her cohort turned 14 and were to be divided into their various career paths, her tendency to go missing had settled somewhat. She still snuck out to wander the campus and climb trees in the middle of the night occasionally, but she attended her classes more regularly and even managed to work her way into the good graces of her dorm supervisor, who had given her the task of helping to mind the newest cohort of 8 year olds as they trickled in over the summer (though it was not the same supervisor she’d vexed so many times her first years).
She learned later that her career path had been a matter of great discussion between her teachers, the school administration, and the council of high-caste officials who often stuck their nose in such affairs. One councilor thought her early years of wandering proved that she wasn’t worth much consideration and thus should be sent into the general childcare path without any discussion at all. Her dorm supervisor (the one she was in the good graces of, not the vexed one) suggested the Nannying path, as she said she saw great potential in the way Rosa had cared for and comforted the youngest students when they first arrived. An administrator suggested the obstetrics path, as she showed fair enough aptitude in biology, and he recalled how quickly she’d reacted when one of the younger students had injured himself badly when he’d fallen from a tree (which she shouldn’t have let him climb in the first place, but still). One of her teachers, though they never said which one, suggested that she become an early childhood teacher, since her general education grades were decent enough.
In the end, though, her science grades, nimble fingers, and cool head under pressure prevailed, and Rosa found herself studying obstetrics at the start of the next semester. This put an end to nearly all her delinquency, both because she wanted to prove that she was worthy of a spot in the program, which only had room for about ten percent of the jades in her cohort (only half of which were expected to actually complete the program, not that they told the students that), and because the work itself was much more demanding. She never found herself at the top of her class, but she wasn’t too terribly far behind them.
As other classmates found themselves transitioned to paths such as School Nurse or Daycare Worker when the demands of the Obstetrics program outpaced their abilities, Rosa dedicated herself even more to her studies. Now, when she was found missing from her bed in the middle of the night, she was typically found in the library or the common room with her notes and textbooks spread wide across the table.
Her friends in other programs began to graduate and go on to their professions- the general childcare group, then daycare workers, then nannies, so on and so forth- until the only students from her cohort still at the school were her classmates in the Obstetrics program and two from the general childcare path who had been offered positions at the school. Obstetrics was a difficult program, but it had to be. They had much more to learn than other paths, and much more responsibility. After all, they would be quite literally helping to birth the future of the empire.
By the time Rosa- soon to be Sister Maryam, once she began her placement- attended her own graduation ceremony and was given her position at the Eastlake Maternity Center, she knew that this was the right path for her the same way she knew the sun would rise in the morning. Her days of skipping class and shirking her duty were long past- mere childish outbursts from one too young to understand the importance and solemnity of her assigned duties.
The only thing that gave her pause were the special cases, as she and her fellow obstetricians called them- the fetuses and newborns which were not quite… correct. It was easy enough when the problem was discovered early, before the pregnancy was very far along. Those special cases could be eliminated with just a dose of medication, or a simple outpatient procedure. When something had been missed, or when the patient had not come in for their routine checks as they were supposed to, it was… harder.
For her first year at Eastlake, she was able to avoid those, for the most part. As a newer Sister, she wasn’t expected to handle the hardest situations alone. Most of her involvement was just to bring the newborn to one of the Mothers or Fathers- the obstetricians who had at least 4 years of experience- and let them make the decision on whether the abnormality was insignificant or not. When it was significant, she would be the one to sit with the child’s parents and explain the situation in the gentlest way she could, then sit with them through their tears. There were always tears.
Eventually, though, a case came along that she couldn’t avoid.
“And what is your opinion, Sister Maryam?” Father Pittman- a half-hunched old man with only a thin ring of white hair around the edge of a mostly bald head- asked.
Rosa’s stomach clenched, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Her opinion? He wanted her opinion? “I…” she stammered for a moment, then took a deep breath to steady herself. “I would say…” she paused a moment more and looked over the Mullens child again. He lay on an exam table and flailed his tiny limbs quite furiously while scowling at anyone and anything that got too near him. He was a healthy weight, and he certainly had a strong set of lungs, if his screaming was anything to go by. The problem was his upper lip. A deep cleft split it nearly to his nose. The question was whether that was enough to sign his death warrant. “I would say insignificant.”
Father Pittman lifted his overgrown eyebrow and looked between her and the child, who continued to scream.
“Well, not insignificant insignificant, but… correctably insignificant. It isn’t a very large cleft, and while it will take a surgery to correct, I’ve seen such surgeries done before, both for situations like this one and for injuries that split the lip later. Given that… I’d say its… quite insignificant, overall.” Rosa’s heart raced, and the anxiety tightening in her stomach only grew the longer Father Pittman pondered. Had she made the wrong choice? Yes, it was fixable, but would he think that was worth it for a child with brown eyes? The last time she’d seen this fixed, it was for a teal-eyed baby.
“Hmm.” Father Pittman made a small, noncommittal sound and bent to examine the Mullens child again. He nearly got a tiny fist to the nose for his trouble. After another long moment, he stood back up and nodded once. “I agree. This is easily correctable. Young Mr. Mullens will make a fine servant of the empire once that is done. See to it that his parents are issued a Certificate of Remedy and arrange to follow up with a surgeon about scheduling the fix.”
“Of course, Father,” Rosa said almost breathlessly as she wrapped the Mullens baby back in his blanket and hurried him two doors down to where his parents waited. Mr. Mullens gasped when he saw his son’s face, but before he could fall to despair, Rosa reassured them that it had been deemed insignificant, and as long as they made arrangements for surgery and kept their Certificate of Remedy, which would prove to any Imperial officials that the baby had been seen and cleared by the maternity center, then their son would be just fine. There were tears this time, too, but they were tears of relief. There were hugs, too- many hugs, which… was different.
Four months later, a letter arrived, addressed to Sister Maryam. Inside, there were pictures of a happy couple with a still-scowling infant, though he could scowl a little better with his lip repaired. According to the letter, his name was Carson.
Over the following years, Rosa gained a reputation for being quite free with Certificates of Remedy. Where other, stricter obstetricians might not bother, Rosa often found ways to argue around various abnormalities. If it could be corrected with a surgery or a temporary brace or anything of the sort, she argued for a certificate, and more often than not, she got them. There were situations, though, where her arguments failed, or when she could find nothing to say. It was on those days that she once again sat with the parents while they mourned. It was on those days, too, that she pulled the Mullens family photo from its hiding place when she retired to her room and reminded herself of the good she was doing. Of the children she’d helped. Of the future of the empire that she helped birth.
Sometimes, it helped.
More years passed, and Rosa was gradually given more responsibilities and the title Mother, once she had proven her skill. A few new graduates came under her care, and for the first few months, things went very well. She saw hundreds of perfect children sent safely home with their parents, and a dozen or so sent with Certificates of Remedy. One night, however, Sister Carillo brought a child that she could not find a remedy for. She, in turn, brought the child to Father Pittman, who shook his head at her.
“The child was born in your wing, Mother Maryam,” he said, putting a soft emphasis on her title. “It is your responsibility. Please take care of it.”
Rosa went cold.
She watched herself walk back to Sister Carrillo and ask her to inform the parents of the situation.
She watched herself take the child to the basement, to the euthanization room.
She watched herself fill the syringe.
She took care of it.
She spent the next half hour locked in the bathroom, vomiting.
She was given the next few days off to recover from her sudden stomach virus.
When she returned, there was something different about her. She still argued just as fervently for the children she thought deserved the certificate of remedy, but when no remedy could be found, she no longer hesitated. Something inside her had hardened, and she learned to lock her heart away each time she needed to bring a child down to the basement, which luckily was not an incredibly frequent occurrence. She just focused on the children she was able to send home, and when she could not, she studied the Mullens family photo and traced her fingers over the parent’s smiles and the baby’s tiny scowl. She couldn’t help them all, but she helped the ones she could, starting with Carson. That would have to be enough.
In some ways, it was, and bit by bit, she numbed herself to the more unpleasant parts of her position until one day, she simply couldn’t anymore.
Difficult days were not unusual at Eastlake, but this one was particularly awful.
Three of the patients on her schedule had gone into labor early- one several weeks early- on top of the two who were actually due today. Her hall was filled to capacity, and one of her patients even spilled over into Mother Long’s hall. In addition to that, two of her young obstetricians and Mother Long were too ill to work, which left her supervising a second team of brothers and sisters, most of whom she wasn’t very familiar with, and Mother Long’s patients. Luckily only two of them were in active labor, and only one was progressing along at any significant pace.
Rosa swore she could feel her nerves fraying bit by bit as she rushed from room to room, checking on her too-many patients and the obstetricians who were attending them. There simply wasn’t enough time to sit and give each of them the individual care she usually prided herself on. There were just… just too many. It was too much, and none of her colleagues were able to leave their overpacked schedules to assist her. They needed a bigger maternity center. They needed more obstetricians. They needed everything to stop for just five minutes, please.
But of course, they didn’t.
Instead, everything went very, very wrong.
The first was the Silva baby- the one whose mother went into labor nearly two months early. She was simply too small, to underdeveloped. There was nothing Rosa could do to save her. She didn’t even have the time to take care of it immediately. She just had to put it from her mind and focus on her other patients instead.
Then the Lawford baby- Something had been missed in all their checkups, and the child was very clearly a special case. One of his hands was twisted, the fingers fused. She knew she could find no remedy, not for a deformity like this. Again, she didn’t even have the time to think about it because moments later, Sister Gates pulled her out into the hallway.
The Megido baby was gone. Rosa remembered her. Mother Long had delivered her only yesterday, shortly before she’d realized how ill she was, which left Rosa to examine her and bring her back to her parents. She hadn’t even had time to check on them again since then, and now the baby was missing. Sister Gates told her the search was already underway, but Rosa had no time to join in as she suddenly found herself pulled into another room.
In that room, she found Ms. McCoy- Mother Long’s patient with the slow labor. She was bleeding quite profusely, and nothing Sister Ballard- one of Mother Long’s charges- did would stop it. Down the hall, she could hear one of her other patients screaming. She couldn’t remember which one. She couldn’t think about it. She had to focus. She had to…
When Rosa thought back to that moment, she couldn’t even remember what exactly went wrong. It was just a cascade of failure on every level. The bleeding wouldn’t stop, and they had to call one of the surgeons in for an emergency cesarian, but even that didn’t help. Even after they took the baby out, the bleeding wouldn’t stop, and now it was even worse. Less than half an hour after her baby was born, Ms. McCoy died on the table. And the baby…
The baby had gone without enough oxygen for too long.
Rosa couldn’t save him either.
Once again, Rosa went cold.
She handed the McCoy baby to Sister Ballard and asked her to take him to the basement.
She said she would join them shortly, she just needed to clean herself up.
She listened to Brother Kamal give his report on her other four patients- easy enough labor, few complications- as she walked towards the shower room.
She scrubbed herself down.
She changed her clothes.
She walked towards the basement.
She didn’t go.
Instead, she found herself outside in one of the small gardens between the maternity center and the dormitories. The air was warm, but it did nothing to stop the chill deep inside of her. Three children to kill. Three, and one missing. She couldn’t do it. Not today. The stone around her heart had cracked too much. She just needed someone else to do this, just today. She could ask for that, right? She could go to Father Pittman or Mother Patil and tell them that she… that she couldn’t do her job. That she was shirking her duties again, that she was backsliding to the childish ways she thought she’d long since left behind. If she couldn’t do her job, she’d fare no better than those three newborns.
But it wasn’t fair. Many of the children she’d had to kill would have been able to live and contribute to the empire if people would just accommodate a few minor differences. What difference did a deformed limb make if a prosthetic or a wheelchair would work just as well in its place? She’d seen several patients or their partners come in with prosthetics when they’d lost a limb to an injury later in their life, so why couldn’t they do the same for children? Now, that she thought about it, though, nearly all of the adults she’d seen with prosthetics were high caste- no lower than her own Jade, and as far as she knew, the wheelchairs were only for people recovering from injuries. There really was no other option, was there?
“I’m not pushing the plunger this time,” she whispered to herself as she scrubbed her hands over her face. She knew it was a lie. She’d have to go back, and she’d have to. It was her job. It was her place in the empire. Those three babies…. They didn’t fit. They were too low caste and too medically complicated. It would be easier for everyone, and kinder to them in the long run… right? She just… she just needed a few minutes to collect herself. It was just stress. She’d be fine. She could do this.
And then she heard a cry.
Her heart leapt, and she surged towards the noise. Was this the Megido baby?
There, in the bushes, she found a newborn, but it certainly wasn’t the one she'd thought. He was much too small, besides the fact that he was a he, and the Megidos had a baby girl. This wasn’t the first child they’d found abandoned on the property. Some parents were too afraid to come in for their mandatory prenatal visits, but they knew that if anyone found that they had an unregistered child, then they would be imprisoned and their child… well, if they were lucky and the child was healthy, the child could be rehomed or raised in one of the schools as Rosa had been. If they were unlucky, then... euthanization wasn’t only for newborns.
Sister Ballard called for her from the doorway. She only had a few minutes before she was expected back to complete her task. Rosa called back a quick ‘Coming,’ but she didn’t go.
Instead, Rosa began to look the child over. Two hands, two feet, no immediately evident abnormalities. Maybe, if he had brown or olive eyes, one of the families who couldn’t take their own child home today would take him instead. Or maybe if his eyes were burgundy and the poor Megido child never turned up, they could take him instead. That would be better than nothing, right? (She knew, deep down, that she was being irrational, but she couldn’t help but hope.)
“Now let’s check your-“ She gasped.
Once again, Rosa went cold.
Red.
Bright red.
She’d never seen eyes like that before, but one particular lecture from her early days in the Obstetrics program came back to her. One of her classmates, she didn’t remember which, had asked about heterochromia. At first, the teacher tried to say that it was so uncommon as to not be worth considering, but Rosa’s classmate insisted on an answer since she’d seen heterochromic kittens just a few days before while visiting her parents.
Eyes of two different colors were unacceptable, according to the teacher. They broke the natural boundaries between the castes. No child with two different eyes could be allowed to live. Would the same be said of this abandoned child?
Rosa could argue that it would just place him in the burgundy caste, as that was the closest color. He was perfectly healthy otherwise, and it would just be the precedent for other children like him, right? But… no, that wouldn’t work. She was being irrational again. A child with eyes that fell entirely outside of the established structure could never hope to fit within the empress’s designs.
Four children, tonight.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t.
She held the child closer- apparently a bit too tight, as he began to cry.
“Shh, no, don’t cry. We’ll find a way out of this.”
She had five minutes before someone would come for her. They both had to be gone by then.
Rosa turned and walked as quickly as she dared towards the dormitory. Her room was just down the hall, and luckily, it was too late- perhaps too early, given exactly how late it had become- for her colleagues to be wandering the halls. They were all either back in the maternity center or fast asleep, which suited Rosa and her new charge perfectly.
Rosa’s door closed behind them with hardly a click, and she settled the baby on her bed. She knew she couldn’t take a bag with her- that would give her away immediately, not that she had more than a small backpack in any case. She wasted half a minute just staring, trying to think through this new problem. What was she doing? What was she doing? She couldn’t live her life as a fugitive, especially not with a baby. How would they eat? Where would they live?
For a brief moment, she considered taking this baby across into the maternity center and just… just getting it over with, but when she turned back to him, she couldn’t make herself do it. Instead, she put more clothes on, layering them so she could take as much with her as possible. She didn’t have much money- most of her needs were supplied by the center, so her wage wasn’t very high- but she hid what little she had in various pockets in different layers. If she was pickpocketed or lost a piece of clothing, it would still leave her with the money in other pockets. By the time she was done, she had maybe a minute left. How could she get away from the center in only a minute? It was impossible.
Once again, she considered just doing her job and taking the child down to the basement, but… wait. The basement. There was a back exit, where they took the bodies out for disposal. No one ever went out there if they could help it, especially not in the small hours of the morning. She could leave that way. There would still be the back fence to contend with, but she would just have to figure that out once she was there. There was no more time. She had to go before someone came looking for her and found the baby. If anyone else saw, she knew there would be no way to save him.
Rosa gathered the baby back into her arms and walked back into the maternity center. Most of her colleagues were too busy with their own patients to take note of her, and those who did notice her recognized the grim, haggard look and left her alone. It was no secret that Mother Maryam hated the euthanizations, so she was left well enough alone when it was time for one. Only Sister Ballard approached her.
“Mother Maryam,-” she started, but Rosa cut her off.
“Sister, stop,” she said, her voice low and tone just edging towards sharpness. “Whatever you’re going to say to me, stop. We’ve both had quite a long night, and I don’t need to be reminded of my duty. I am well aware of what I must do, and I find the implication that I need your reminders to be disrespectful. Return to your own duties and stop policing mine.” Part of her felt guilty for reprimanding Sister Ballard. Rosa knew she was only trying to help, but she did what she had to do to put Sister Ballard off her trail.
Sister Ballard stood a little straighter and looked away. “Yes, Mother Maryam,” she said, sounding appropriately chastised. “I’m sorry. I think-”
“Stop,” Rosa repeated. “If it’s important, you can tell me later, but not now.”
Sister Ballard hesitated a moment more, like she wanted to say something else, but she just shook herself a bit and hurried back towards Mother Long’s wing. Rosa waited a moment, then continued on her way, her eyes trained directly ahead the entire time. She did not stop for anyone or anything except to wait for the elevator to arrive, which she promptly took to the basement. Rosa never did find out what Sister Ballard wanted to tell her.
Once she was in the basement, it only took a few moments to find the back exit. The path took her past the euthanization room, and it took everything she had not to stop. She couldn’t take them, too. They needed more care than she could offer, even under the best of circumstances, and especially on the run. She couldn’t help them all, but she had to help the one she could. Red eyes would be easy enough to hide if she kept him far from others. Still, her eyes lingered on the door for a few precious seconds before she moved past.
The back door opened without a creak, and Rosa slipped back out into the warm night. She eased the door shut, hoping beyond hope that it would make no sound, then turned away. She hadn’t done much exploring of the back of the maternity center’s property, but she knew there were a decent number of trees shading a small footpath, which the center had built at the staff’s urging a few years before Rosa had graduated. During the day, it was lovely, but now, the distance to the back gate seemed almost insurmountable.
She couldn’t dwell on that, though. Not when this baby was depending on her. She did not run, but she did hurry, and she kept close to the trees so that their shadows would hide her. By some miracle, no one saw her as she stole herself and her baby away from the maternity center. That only left the back fence, then the park beyond it. The fence wasn’t very high, but any distance was impossible to climb while carrying a baby. Damn it, why did they have to have this fence here? (She knew it was for exactly this reason, so she supposed it served its purpose well.)
There was no way for her to reach the gate without being spotted, much less open it, so unless she suddenly developed wings, she’d just have to find a way to climb. She’d need her hands free for that, so… she’d wear him. She’d seen babies in back slings before. It had been many years since she’d been taught to tie them at school, and she didn't have much time, but it would have to be enough.
It took two scarves and several precious minutes of adjusting before she was certain enough that the baby wouldn’t fall or slip, then she began her climb. The chain link bit into her fingers, but she ignored the pain and pulled herself higher bit by bit. The toes of her shoes just barely fit into the gaps, but she found enough traction to push herself higher. She could do this. She’d always been a good climber, though climbing trees was a much different beast than climbing a fence.
Still, she made it to the top just in time to see flashlights turn on near the buildings and hear voices calling. She couldn’t quite make out their words, but she was certain they were calling for her. Damn it.
She straddled the top of the fence just long enough to tighten the sling holding the baby to her back, then lowered herself down. Somehow, climbing down was harder than climbing up. Her fingers were already raw, and her muscles ached from holding her weight up in such a precarious position. She was still about four feet from the ground when the beams of flashlights began to appear in the trees on the inside of the fence. Damn it.
She had no choice but to drop, and even that short fall nearly sent her toppling. It was only sheer luck that kept her from crashing into the fence and causing enough noise to draw attention, and it was even more luck that kept the baby silent. Still, they were coming closer, and she could now hear them calling her name. She had no time to run. The best she could do was creep behind a thick cluster of bushes and wait. She held absolutely still as two searchers approached the fence- a mere twenty feet from her, but they soon began to move along.
Then something rustled in a nearby tree, and they turned back towards her.
“What was that?” one of them asked.
Damn. It.
She dared not move. She dared not breathe. She just clenched her fist around the scarves holding the baby on her back and waited. They came closer, and one of their flashlights raked across the bushes that hid her. Surely they’d seen her.
“Do you see somethin’?” the other asked.
“Nah,” the first one said, “but I heard something.”
Rosa closed her eyes as the two of them came right up to the fence. The light raked over a wider area than just the bushes Rosa hid in, but they didn’t stray too far. This was the end. They’d been found. They’d both be taken back, and… and taken care of.
“Hey,” the first one called out, “Just come on out. You’ve got everyone looking for you. Everyone’s pretty worried.”
They’d had just seconds of freedom, but Rosa found that she didn’t regret it. She didn’t regret saving this child, and she didn’t regret refusing to kill any more. Even if they offered to let her take her position back and be spared execution, she wouldn’t take it. She’d rather they kill her.
“Come on,” the second called out. “It’s too early for this. Just come out and come back inside.”
Rosa didn’t move. She couldn’t have, even if she wanted to. She was just… frozen.
“Hey,” the first one called again, a bit more forcefully, and once more, fate intervened.
From the second tree to her right came a large, angry bird, apparently disturbed by the bright lights. It screeched and dove for the fence, flapping and banging against the chain link. The two searchers stepped back, startled, then the second began to laugh.
“Only you could mistake a fuckin’ bird for a runaway jade,” he laughed, clapping his companion on the back.
“Ah, shutup,” the first one protested, shoving the hand away. “Let’s keep goin before Kempner has a fuckin aneurysm.”
They continued on their way, and Rosa still stayed exactly where she was until their voices faded in the distance. Only once she was absolutely sure that they were well away did she creep further from the fence.
That was too close. Far too close.
Long past when the fence and the lights of the searchers faded from view, the trees began to thin, and Rosa stopped. She unwound the hastily tied scarves and took the baby back into her arms. He began to fuss, apparently displeased with the sudden change of position. She shushed him softly.
“Shh, it’s alright.” She checked him over again- no injuries, not even a scratch from all the bushes they’d had to crawl through. “You’re alright… We’re alright, Kiran.” Yes. Kiran. That would be his name. That would be her son’s name. She didn’t know what their future together would hold, but he was hers, and he was safe, and he was… perfect. “We’re going to be alright.”
There were so many things to consider. They couldn’t stay here, near the center. Someone would recognize her as the Mother that had delivered their child, and they’d be done for. They’d have to leave. They could go by plane. It would get them far away very quickly, but that would leave a paper trail. A train, perhaps? She could buy the ticket with cash. Then there was the question of food- Kiran would need formula for at least the next few months, and diapers. She could think about that later, though. For now, they were free.
She took a moment to just breathe, then she picked herself up and walked out into the park like she had not a care in the world. The sun had begun to rise, and she was just a jade nanny taking her young charge on an early morning walk. The rest, they could figure out later.