Voices of Humanity

Chapter Thirty-Four

With a focused goal, my world was changed entirely. Once the spark of rebellion was sparked it became my obsession. Visions of my daughter that night came to me just the same, but now I saw a flame in Mary's eyes. A burning passion, raising her gaze from the dead with some strange vengeance-fueled necromancy.
   
When I went to Dulane I found the act of servitude grow a bit easier day by day . Every slap or harsh word just stoking the fire within me as I concealed my resolve behind a facade of weakness.

    In the kitchen I found myself observing my fellows all the more, assessing which might be brought to my new cause. I was suddenly grateful for my new station, so diminished in power. I was assigned menial tasks but also generally ignored. As I scrubbed the floors and cleaned the ovens I was able to keep my ears pricked. No longer anyone important, the others were less weary in my presence. And then, of course, there were the trips to my mate.
   
As I'd suspected, Dulane was determined to ensure Gregory's seed was planted in my womb. His petty act of vengeance ended up offering us more time to forge our unlikely alliance. Locked in the shed we had the chance to talk, sheltered from any prying eyes or ears. Though we kept our voices low, moving on the creaky bed to give the illusion of mating should any attempt to spy, we were able to speak candidly with less fear than I'd ever believed possible.
   
The trust between us was tentative at first. I told Gregory of my pain, my plans, and he, in turn, shared more about the life of the breeding males, vowing to take our discussions back to them and spread the message of revolt I true means of action could be found.
   
Never before had I considered the horrors of life for the males on our estate as I did in hearing Gregory's tales of his youth. The daily beatings, the constant threat of death. So many of his scars were nearly faded now, but he could recount how each and every one had been imprinted upon his skin.
   
Somehow I'd never noticed how much of his flesh was pitted with cuts and white lines of pain. When lying with the males I had always done so much to separate myself from the experience. In doing so I had completely overlooked the clear signs of abuse. The stories Gregory told were just as horrific as anything I had experienced in my lifetime.

    "Prospective breeding males are only four when they are first taken to witness the gelding of other boys," he explained.
    
I remembered the lack of male toddlers in the nursery and felt an uncomfortable churning in my stomach.

    "Overseers keep them on leashes to make sure none try to run or turned from the sight," he continued. They are forced to watch their fellows struggling and screaming in agony before being quickly bandaged, and packed into cages for fattening. They will stay there until they face the knife.

    "The overseers make it clear to all that this will be their fate if they do not live up to the standards expected of them."

    I thought of the sweet young children I'd helped care for in the nursery. Those kept safe and comforted for as long as Dreda could manage it. I couldn't imagine a boy as young as four being forced to witness such horror all alone, attended only by threatening sibla, waiting to make their nightmares reality should they make even the slightest mistake. Dreda's comment from so long ago echoed in my ears.

    "I'm grateful my male babies were all ended before they could be destroyed so."

     For the first time, I truly understood.

    "The ritual is completed each year until we reached maturity," he continued. "Every time more males are culled from the line and new, younger boys added to the group of perspective animals who might be allowed to pass on their seed."

    His eyes grew distant. I was certain I saw the threat of tears within them.

    "We were only ten."