“This is my granddad.”
“Oh my,” Lulu says, her voice going up an octave as she gets excited. “It’s an honor to meet your family.” Lulu pumps his hand up and down enthusiastically. Then she turns to me. It hasn’t been long, but I instinctively know not to offer my branded right hand to her to shake. She reaches for it instead herself and holds on for dear life, looking at me expectantly. I’m not sure what she’s waiting for. I look to Granddad uncomfortably.
“Okay, okay,” Granddad barks, and she jumps a little.
I finally free my hand from hers, which seems to break her from whatever spell she’s under.
“I’m sorry.” She blushes. “It’s just so nice to see you in the flesh. I’m a big, big fan of yours.”
“We all are,” Granddad says proudly.
“Follow me,” Lulu says, and we make our way through endless halls and corridors. “All of us are thrilled you’re coming today. It will mean so much to everyone. A boost. These are such hard times, and you mean so much to them.” She stops walking and clasps her hands together at her chest and gazes at me.
“She’s not that special,” Granddad snaps, which makes me giggle. “Now, let’s keeping moving. We’re late.”
“Indeed,” she says, continuing. “Though all our first-timers are always late. It’s not the most obvious of places. Most people turn back at the main road. Exactly as Alpha intended.”
Granddad looks around. “Does her husband live here, too?”
I’m about to interrupt, with embarrassment that this isn’t her home, when Lulu replies.
She looks at him uncertainly and gives him a brusque, “Yes.”
We follow her to an elevator and go to the basement. We step out of the elevator into a large lobby. There are double doors ahead of us, plush carpets with elaborate designs. It feels like the Four Seasons, not somebody’s home.
She stops before the double doors and turns to me, eyes wide and filling with tears. “I can’t tell you how excited everybody is about hearing you speak. You speak what they think, if you understand. You represent a voice that has been silenced for decades, and all of a sudden you’re here. The person we’ve been waiting for.”
“Lulu, I’m not speaking today.” I don’t have Juniper’s paralyzing fear of public speaking, but I’m not ready to say anything to anyone. I don’t have anything prepared, nor do I really know what I’m getting myself involved in. I just wanted to be a spectator, see what it’s about, ask Granddad his opinion on whether we can trust Alpha or not, as that’s something I’m uncertain of.
“Oh.” Her face falls, and then she’s confused. “But everybody is here to hear you.”
I fume at the mistake that’s been made; it’s strike one against Alpha. Before I get a chance to object or run away, Granddad pushes open the double doors.
Faces turn to stare as we walk in. The room is enormous, like a ballroom, with a chandelier dripping from the center of the ceiling. A woman is speaking at a lectern onstage, so most eyes are on her. Only a few people at the back of the hall turn to look at us when we enter. Each time one sees me, the person in the next seat gets an elbow or a nudge, and the other turns around. Lulu walks right up the center aisle to the front row, expecting Granddad and me to follow her, but Granddad grabs my hand and pulls me into the back row. We slip into two seats and watch as Lulu turns around first with pride, then confusion as no one is behind her. Her face turns puce, and she hurries from the front row and back through the double doors in search of us.
The man I sit beside shakes his head and motions for me and Granddad to swap places. At first, I think it’s because he doesn’t want to sit beside a Flawed, but then I realize we’re at a Flawed gathering; he has an F on his temple, an armband on his sleeve, and only two Flawed people can sit together. I am making it three. So Granddad sits between us, and I notice that this has been the case in every row, just as it was in the courtroom. Despite the fact that there are at least one hundred people in the room, every two Flawed have been separated by a regular, unflawed person. This is not the small counseling group that I had been imagining. A banner on the stage reads BRING BACK OUR BABIES.
Granddad notices it, too, and whispers to me. “She’s on dangerous ground here.”
“She says the Guild and the government are on her side. They want to end the institutions because they cost too much, but instead allow specially trained families to take in F.A.B. children and continue the Guild’s teachings.” I picture someone like Mary May only too glad to help brainwash young children and shudder at the thought.