The Belly of the Beast

Ch. 11, A Dark Premonition

Before she could read the truth on my face, I said, "No more talking or I'm gonna mess up."

"Mess up? How could you mess up?"

"I could accidentally stitch your mouth closed."

She giggled, then gasped as I made the first stitch.

"Try to relax," I said. "Think about Wesson and his excruciatingly detailed analysis of everything he did on shift." She snickered, then fell silent as I worked. I'd sewn up countless corpses, but live flesh felt different beneath the fingers: warmer but also more delicate. There was something immensely satisfying about rejoining live flesh, a feeling that repairing machines never elicited. On the other hand, machines never swear at me.

"There, done," I finally said. "Sit up so I can wrap it." I grabbed her arm and pulled her to a sitting position. "So, how are you gonna explain the wound to Wesson? Should we make up a story now? Or would it be easier to dump him?"

She paused for so long, I thought she wouldn't answer. And when she spoke, her voice was unnaturally soft. "Actually, Wesson proposed... three nights ago."

It took me a solid ten seconds to process her words. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think you would understand."

This time her words cut. Wouldn't understand because I didn't have a letter? Because I'd never spent the night with a man? Because I could never marry? All of the above? I hid my hurt. I'd pretended so often— to have parents, to have a letter—lying was second-nature. "What are you going to say?"

"I don't know." She hesitated, and then, "What do you think I should say?"

You should tell him to piss off.

But I didn't say that. This was what Yaneli wanted—for Xyla to find a more secure position in life. And who better than big, strong, boring Wesson? He was loyal, a safe choice—while my presence endangered everyone I knew. I forced myself to shrug. "You know what Yaneli would say." I made my voice high, shaking a finger in mock sternness at her. "An W, Xyla? You could at least get a V!"

She laughed, and I hoped she couldn't see the betrayal curling in my gut. How long before Wesson became Xyla's best friend? Before he replaced me? Footsteps came down the hallway, and I felt an unexpected surge of gratefulness as I tucked the extra bandages under the thin mattress just a moment before Yaneli opened the door.

She glanced at the two of us, her eyes narrowing. "What are the two of you up to?"

"Nothing," Xyla flashed her a smile and then jumped off the bed— a slight wince betraying her. "I'm off to see Wesson. Back in an hour."

"Fine," Yaneli called after her retreating form, "but be back before light's out."

I pretended to fix the blanket, avoiding Yaneli's gaze, sure that she knew what we'd been up to and was about to grill me. Instead, she sat heavily on the bed. "I told a few engineers you could look at them tonight. They're waiting outside."

I nodded, trying to force down the guilt that while Yaneli thought only of helping me and others in the Belly, I had accepted a necklace from a woman from the Top— a necklace that seemed to burn against my neck now. "Of course, Yaneli."

She hesitated, smoothing out the blanket I'd already fixed. "You can practice on me first."

At first I thought she was joking, but when she didn't move I stood up. Yaneli rarely asked for medical help— she was as strong as the Beast. I used my best doctorly voice now, hiding my curiosity, "What seems to be the problem?"