63. Epilogue Faith

Flipping the switch on her datadev, she massaged a knot in the back of her neck. A noise at the door made her look up.

"Didn't you leave yet?" Kemp raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going. I'm going." Faith stood up and began packing her bag. "I was just finishing these papers."

Moving to the shelves on the far side of the room, Kemp cast her eyes over the selection of books.

"It's Saturday." She mock-scolded, over her shoulder. "And a little bird told me you had special plans this afternoon. Go!" Kemp turned, making a sweeping motion with her hand. "And I don't want to hear anything else from you until Monday."

"Alright!" Faith held up her hands. "Who do you think you are, the principal?"

"Don't you forget it." Kemp laughed. "Okay if I borrow this? I never get tired of it."

She held up a book and Faith smiled. The volume was one of a few rare original texts which pre-dated Danforth's rule of the city. Discovered in the caves after the chancellor's death, the books had been donated to the academy by the Eremus council. Their pre-Women's Independence Party view on society was fascinating. Kemp and Faith shared an obsession with the books, and had read them all several times.

"Help yourself."

"Thanks." Kemp's eyes gleamed. "That's my evening sorted."

"See you Monday, then." Faith followed her old professor to the door. "Make sure you go home soon as well."

"I will." But Kemp was already retracing her steps to her office. "I just have a meeting with Blake's team first."

Faith rolled her eyes. As proud Principal of the Serophia Academy, Kemp never stopped working. A decade had passed since they had rescued the senior girls from what had been Danforth's institution. Following the turbulent events, the school had been closed down while the temporary government re-established order in the city.

When elections had been held for permanent positions, Charlotte Kemp had stepped away from her government role. Returning to her first love, she had worked hard to reopen the academy as a Centre for Further Learning. Named after Serene and Sophia, the two victims of Danforth's horrific experiment, it was open to anyone showing academic promise and the total opposite of the establishment Anderson had run.

Taking in a range of students from all over the city, the school was revered once again. And for the right reasons, this time. The student body was mixed gender. So far, the bias was still towards the female, but as more and more baby boys were born, the numbers were beginning to even out.

Kemp was most proud of their technology programme, which she had set up in conjunction with Blake. In the wake of Danforth's death, the Resistance's tech genius had set up her own company. One of its main objectives was to investigate future technologies and ensure they were used for good.

Everything Blake did was totally transparent. Working closely with Madeleine's government, she followed rigorous guidelines. They ensured that any trials and experiments her company ran were fair and did not abuse the trust of the Bellator citizens. Blake had worked hard to find positive uses for her company's advancements. She had also forged close links with Kemp at the academy, making sure that both her skill and her philosophy were shared with any aspiring IT geniuses. Faith was still intimidated by the woman, but her attitude was one to be admired.

Faith had been a professor at the establishment for six years. Taking over Kemp's previous role, she taught in the old Herstory classroom, though the subject was now called Theirstory. She was well-liked as a professor and loved her job, almost too much.

There were times when she needed to leave it behind. And today was one of them.

She exited the building, waving to Benjamin on reception. She still found herself faintly shocked, on occasion, to see men working alongside the women of Bellator. Despite knowing first-hand that women could be just as vindictive as men, the old teachings were ingrained, and difficult to shake.

Faith was grateful that, in another decade, the children she taught would be free of that prejudice. One of the reasons she was so passionate about her job was that it allowed her to educate the adults of the future about the mistakes of the past. That way, she was doing her part to ensure the same mistakes were never made again.

True to her word, Madeleine's government had spent the last few years rebuilding Bellator society from the bottom up.

Drudges had been freed, and now worked alongside the women of the city as equals with paid positions. Faith had stayed in touch with Arden, who had taken a position in Madeleine's government advising her on the very specific situation of the drudges. Many of them lived in shared houses, and stayed close to one another, their bonds closer because of their common experience.

Some of them had struggled to adapt to having independence, but, on the whole, they enjoyed a far better quality of life. Because of their specialised genetic engineering, they were unable to reproduce. It was odd to think that once this generation died out, there would be no more drudges. But those still living would enjoy a much brighter life than their predecessors.

The people of Eremus had been given the option to come and live in the city or remain in the place of their birth. But the cave community no longer had to hide. Instead, they travelled in and out of Bellator without question. A number of major routes in and out of the forest had been cleared, providing more rapid movement between the two communities. Some of the Eremus folk had even started trading with businesses in the city.

It hadn't been an easy journey, but, slowly, relations between men and women had improved. For the first few years after Danforth's death, the birth rate had fallen steeply. With no seed to continue reproducing in the old way, the city had struggled. But, after completing her medical training and taking a job as a medic at Bellator Hospital, Anna had found a solution.

She had proposed a system where Eremus men could donate their seed to the city's hospitals for use in procreation. The suggestion had initially come up against resistance. Many people feared it was a backwards step and would lead to Danforth's seed banks being reinstated.

Anna had been horrified at the implication. As a result, she had stipulated that the seed could only be given voluntarily and anonymously. After that, the proposal had been quickly accepted. And, once women began to take advantage of the new system, the birth rate had begun to recover.

Eventually, barriers had broken down completely. Men from Eremus and women from Bellator began to form relationships and, slowly, but surely, babies had begun to be conceived naturally. Gender testing had been banned early on, so every birth had an element of surprise. Best of all, children of both sexes were accepted and treated equally.

Collecting her bike from the rack at the front, Faith pushed it out into the street. Things were so much better.

Kemp's words came back to her as she mounted the bike. A little bird told me you had special plans for this afternoon.

She smiled to herself as she set off for the forest.

An hour later she hopped off the bike, wheeling it the last few metres before propping it up against a tree. Ahead of her, Swallow Lake glimmered in the afternoon sun. She inhaled deeply, stopping to take in the view.

"About time you got here."

She spun around. A pair of boots descended from a tree to her right, followed by a pair of legs, clad in denim. There was a thud as the figure leapt, landing on the ground beside her.

"You can take the boy out of the forest, but you can't take the forest out of the boy," she teased.

Noah laughed. Stepping forward, he swept her into his arms, kissing her soundly. When they parted, her heart was pounding. He could still do that to her, even after ten years.

"Sorry I'm late, I was–"

"I know," taking her by the hand, he pulled her towards the water. "You were working." Putting a hand up to silence her second apology, he pulled her down on the bank of the lake and settled himself behind her. "It's okay."

She smiled at his acceptance. It hadn't always been this way. For months after the fall of Danforth, they had struggled to find a way to be together which made them both happy. Eventually though, they had come to a compromise.

Their home was on the outskirts of the city. It meant that Faith's journey to work was longer, but allowed Noah to visit Eremus regularly. Spending time in the forest was important to him. And because of this, it had become a special place for Faith.

She leaned back against him, revelling in how solid his body felt, how tightly his arms clasped her to him. "We made it to a decade, then?"

He squeezed her tighter. "Seems like we did. Happy anniversary."

"Ten years," she marvelled. "Bellator's come a long way in that time."

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "So have we."

She laughed. "Remember when we didn't even dare to dream we could be together?"

He chuckled, the bass sound reverberating though her body. "About that…"

She twisted her body to face him. "Yes?"

"Well," he leaned backwards, fumbling in his pocket, "I wanted to do something to celebrate. To mark the occasion."

"Oh yeah?" Her eyes went to his hands, curious. "What have you got there?"

He put them behind his back, then held them both out in front of him. "Pick one."

She rolled on to her knees, her breath catching in her throat. Even now, he could surprise her.

She took her time deliberating between the two. Eventually, when he let out a groan of frustration, she tapped his left hand.

"Good choice!" He opened his palm to reveal a small package, wrapped in tissue. "For you."

She took it between her thumb and finger, sensing it was something fragile, something special. Unwrapping it carefully, she discovered an ornate silver pendant in the shape of the letter F.

"To replace the one I stole from you." His voice was thick with emotion. "The one which kept you Danforth's prisoner, though you didn't know it." He blinked. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful."

Faith bent closer, inspecting it. Once she had worn a gold letter D. It had fed poison into her system, identified her as property of Danforth's regime. Now, she could wear a delicate silver letter F and be herself, knowing that Noah loved her.

"Thank you." She leaned forward and kissed him. When they finally pulled away, she smiled. "Put it on for me?"

She turned around, pulling her hair out of the way. Noah obliged, laying the pendant over her heart as he fastened the clasp. He bent down, placing a gentle kiss on her neck.

"I don't think we have long," he murmured. "They'll be here soon."

As if on cue, there was a sound of voices in the distance.

"Or now." Faith pressed her lips to his one last time. "I love you. I hope we're still this happy in another ten years."

"We'd better be," he mock-growled, pulling her to her feet.

They stood together, waiting for the others to arrive. First came Ella and Helen, hand in hand as always, joined by their daughter, Lydia. At nine years old, she was a fiercely intelligent member of the academy, and one of Faith's favourite students. She travelled to school every day from Eremus, where Ella and Helen had chosen to settle.

"Did someone say picnic?" Ella teased, holding up a basket.

Faith knew it would be packed to the brim with lovingly-prepared food. No one in Eremus went hungry anymore. Ella began to unpack it as Lydia pulled her shoes off and waded into the lake.

Not long afterwards, Anna arrived with Paulo. She was fresh from a shift at the hospital. Reaching them, she kissed Faith on the cheek. Eyeing the pendant, she winked at her son.

"She liked it, then?" Without waiting for a response, she patted him on the arm and moved away. "Ella, Helen!" She embraced them both. "It's been too long."

Paulo glanced around, his eyes scanning the area. He was co-chancellor now, and Madeleine's equal. He worked hard in the city, but his loyalty always lay with Eremus, and he acted as their champion in all government discussions.

"Hey," Faith smiled. "Tough morning?"

"Too right." He grimaced. "I thought Madeleine would never let me leave."

"Well, I'm glad she did." Faith gestured to the ground. "Take a seat. They'll be here soon."

Charlie and Paulo lived and worked in the city, but made sure their children spent as much time in Eremus as they could. With Paulo working today, Charlie had taken their children, eight-year-old Flynn, five-year-old Matthew, and four-year-old Katie to spend the morning in the caves with the other children.

As Paulo sat down, she marvelled at how different he was these days. Even with the weight of his leadership role, things were so much better now. Paulo was more relaxed, less ill-tempered, kinder. More like his uncle. He even got along pretty well with Noah most of the time.

A few minutes later, the final members of their group arrived from Eremus. Flynn and Matthew raced in first, giggling wildly as Charlie chased after them. Katie lagged behind, her little face pouting.

"Wait for me, Ma!" she cried. "Wait!"

Ruth wasn't far behind, the two-year-old Sophia riding on her shoulders.

"There she is!" Noah hurried to meet them, scooping their daughter into his arms. "I missed you, pumpkin. Where have you been all day? With Auntie Ruth?"

"Roo!" The toddler stumbled over the name, as she always did, giggling with delight as Noah tickled her. "And Dun-dun!"

Faith turned to see Harden hovering just outside the treeline. He was hesitant as always. No matter how many times they reassured him he was welcome, he was never certain.

"Come join us!" Faith took a step towards him. "There's plenty to eat."

He didn't look sure, until Ruth turned. "He's been keeping Sophia amused all morning." She smiled at the toddler. "Hasn't he!"

"Yee-ah!" Sophia wriggled out of Noah's arms and ran to Harden. Tugging on his hand, she moved him closer to the group. "C'mon Dun-dun!"

"Come and eat," Noah said mildly, "or she'll never leave you alone."

A combination of the childish enthusiasm and Noah's invitation seemed to work. Accepting Ella's offer of a sandwich, Harden joined the group, taking a seat slightly away from the others.

No matter how many years passed, he was still awkward in their company. One day, Faith vowed as they settled down to enjoy the afternoon sun on the lake, he would recover from the trauma of the past.

They all would.

As evening drew near, the sounds of shouting emanated from the trees. Grateful that any disturbances in the forest these days were caused by children's games rather than bombs and guns, Faith went to investigate.

She peered through the leaves, where Katie was lying on the ground crying. Her brothers stood off to one side, looking guilty.

"What's going on here?" she called out, walking over to the group of children.

They had been playing together beautifully all afternoon, but they were tired now. Holding out a hand to Katie, she pulled her up.

"Matthew pushed me over!" Her bottom lip was wobbling.

"I didn't!" Her older brother was quick to defend himself. "We were playing chase and I didn't stop in time. I knocked into her and she fell."

"Didn't!" Katie lunged towards him. "Did it on purpose."

Flynn stepped forward. "It was an accident." He said, his voice serious. "Matty didn't mean it."

"He did!" Katie turned to Faith, her eyes wide. "He pushed me, ‘cos he's bigger, and he knows I'll fall." She turned to her brother, sticking her tongue out. "I hate boys. They're mean and horrid and–"

Faith pulled her niece into her arms. "Don't say that."

Katie was trembling with indignation. "Why not? S'true."

"No, it's not." Faith looked into Katie's eyes, searching for a way to explain. "Boys aren't all mean. They might play rough, and tease you, and make you angry, sometimes, but they can also be kind and gentle and… fun. And girls can be both ways too."

"But–"

Faith drew back, raising an eyebrow at the little girl. "Can't you think of a single time when you were mean to Matthew?"

Flynn snorted. "You tripped him after dinner the other day."

Katie regarded her brothers solemnly. "Only because he pinched me."

"That was because you stole my ice cream!" Matthew was indignant.

"Oh." Katie's brow furrowed. "I did."

Faith stifled a smile. "There you are. We're all capable of being both nice and nasty." Faith smiled. "But when it comes down to it, these boys are your brothers, and they love you."

"Love!" Now it was Matthew's turn to stick his tongue out. "Yuk." He wandered closer, though. By the time he reached Faith's side, he was chewing his lip. "Sorry, Auntie Faith. I didn't mean to hurt her."

She leaned forward, whispering in his ear. Eventually, he nodded.

"I'm sorry, Katie." He squinted his eyes at her. "Are you alright?" Sniffing loudly, Katie nodded. "Wanna play chase again?"

Katie considered the proposal seriously. Then, with a burst of speed, she jumped down from Faith's lap and tore off through the trees.

"Only if I'm not it!" she called back over her shoulder.

The others catapulted after her, leaving Faith alone.

One day soon, Sophia would be old enough to play among these trees with her friends. Faith hoped she would grow up knowing that all people had the capacity to love and be kind, but also to be cruel and selfish. It was the choice to be one or the other that made a person who they were. And the way they were brought up had everything to do with that.

As the shouts of the children's laughter echoed in the distance, Faith was glad that the forest was filled with such pleasant sounds. It had witnessed too much pain and violence.

All they had to do now was keep it this way.