“But you—we—immunized the babies,” she point outs. “Without their permission.”
“That’s true,” I say. “The Rising felt that immunizing the infants was important enough that we diverted some of the resources in that direction. As you all know, infants suffer most during times of illness, and even a cure can’t guarantee a positive outcome in all cases with children so small. In this case, the decision was made to immunize without permission. And the result is that we haven’t seen anyone under the age of two years come in sick.” I let that sink in. “Now that the Rising is fully in power, we’ve already been able to shift additional resources over to making immunizations. We’ll save everyone eventually, one way or another.”
She nods, apparently satisfied.
There’s another reason, of course, but I don’t say it out loud: If the Rising had secretly immunized people, the people wouldn’t know whom to thank for saving them. They wouldn’t even know they had been saved. The Rising didn’t start this Plague. They solved it. And the people need to know that. They can’t appreciate the solution unless they know there had been a problem.
So, the Rising had to let some people become sick. But in most revolutions, many have to die.
This is much better.
“It’s my job to remind you,” I say, looking out over the group, “that each of you are here because you have been vouched for by a member of the Rising. They’ve taken a chance on you, one they believe was warranted. Please don’t disappoint them, or us, by trying to sabotage what we’re doing here. We’re working to save people.”
I’m not sure where Lei is in the room and I’m glad. I’m speaking to everyone, not only to her.
“Now,” I say. “Let me describe the basic procedures for taking care of the sick. You’ll receive more specific instructions and your initial shift assignments as you leave the room. Some of you will go straight to work and others will be assigned to rest and take your turn later.”
I run through the basic steps of protocol, reminding the workers about proper antiseptic techniques and procedures like hand washing and disinfecting supplies and equipment. These practices are especially important since this virus can be spread through contact with bodily fluids. I tell them about the admittance system and the initial medical exams, that we’re short on pressurized mattresses so we need to turn some patients by hand. I describe the wound vacuums we use for sealing off the lesions to try to stave off infection.
You can hear a pin drop when I get to the part that they all find the most interesting: the cure.
“Administering the cure is very similar to what you saw on the portscreens when the Pilot first spoke to everyone,” I say. “A negative reaction is almost unheard of, but if it does occur, it’ll take place within the first half hour of cure administration.”
“What is the adverse reaction?” a man asks.
“Patients stop breathing,” I say. “They have to be intubated. But the cure still works. They just need help breathing for a while. Obviously, only medics are allowed to intubate.”
“Have you ever seen a bad reaction?” he asks.
“Three times,” I say. “And I’ve been working at this medical center since the Rising took over here.” In some ways it feels like no time at all and in other ways it feels like it’s been my whole life.
“How long does it take for the cure to work?” someone else calls out.
“Often, patients are fully alert within three or four days,” I say, “and they move to the recovery area of the medical center by day six. They’ll stay there for a few more days before going back out to their families and friends. The cure is extremely potent.”
Some eyes widen and people look at each other in surprise. They’ve seen people come out of the medical centers, of course, but they didn’t know just how fast the cure kicked in.
“That’s all,” I say. I smile at everyone. “Welcome to the Rising.”
They all start clapping and someone cheers loudly. The room is full of excitement. They’re all glad to be back doing something that matters instead of sitting outside the barricade walls. I understand. When I’m giving people the cure, I know I’m doing the right thing.
I stare up at the sleeproom ceiling and listen to everyone breathing. Somewhere out in the medical center, Lei’s working with the patients. I’m glad she’s part of the Rising now: She’ll take good care of the still. I wonder why she didn’t join earlier. Maybe she just didn’t know about the Rising. People didn’t talk openly about the rebellion, after all.
I’m sure Tannen’s part of the Rising. Like me, he would have recognized the rebellion as our responsibility the minute he heard about it, and he’s immune to the tablet, too. He’s a perfect fit.
I never could figure out why Ky didn’t join the Rising right away, back when they first asked us. The Rising could have helped him. But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t tell me why.
Even before Cassia went out into the Outer Provinces to find Ky, you could tell that she might do something big. Like that day at the pool when she finally decided she was ready to jump: She went into the water without looking back. So I shouldn’t have been surprised at the way she fell in love with Ky because it’s the way I wanted her to fall in love with me: completely.
The only time I was tempted to try to get out of the Rising was when Cassia and I were Matched. For a few months there, I played both sides in the game, doing what the Rising wanted and acting Society at the same time so that I could stay Matched to Cassia. But it didn’t take me long to realize—I wanted Cassia to choose me. In some ways, our being Matched is the biggest strike against me. How was she supposed to love me when the Society said she should?
After Cassia told me that she was falling for Ky, I realized that if he left, she’d go too. She’d jump. It wasn’t hard to recognize that the Society wouldn’t let Ky live in Mapletree Borough forever, and anywhere he went might be dangerous.
I had to send something with her: something that could help her and that would remind her of me.
So I printed out the picture from the port and went outside to get the newrose petals. But those were both things to remind her of the past. I decided that wasn’t enough. I wanted to give her something that could help her in the future and that would make her think of me.