Ch 5 Canaille Redistribution

“Here, this is why we added the Canaille Redistribution feature,” Mother said, matter-of-factly. “The power in the Final Binding is three times that of your previous ones. That added feature was necessary for that reason alone.”

The feed continued. On the screen, the boy in the binding bed flailed against his restraints, crying out for his friends. His flesh swelled until the skin split, then he imploded with such violence that everyone in the room jumped. Gilly recoiled with the rest of them, stomach hollowing; she realized several classmates were turning to look at her. Without a flicker of sympathy, Mother swung her gaze to the two young men nearest the front who looked most unsettled.

“I do not mean to be harsh, only direct and honest. So, before you ask, Tobias, Zander, the answer is yes. Yes, not all your friends will make it.” She slapped her hand down on the desk; the sound cracked through the amphitheater and a small, almost pleased grin touched her mouth. “No class has ever slipped through the Middle into the Upper without losing people along the way.” She pointed toward the back of the room. “The Memorial Wall behind you is proof. People will come and go in your lives, and there will be nothing you can do about it. You must accept that and move forward.”

Gilly felt several friends glance at her, searching for a reaction. She gave them none. After a few tense seconds, Mother tapped the desk again, harder this time, to reclaim their attention.

“Think of the Final Binding like shuffling through the files on your comp pads. Your body will shuffle through its own content, searching for the final piece of genetic material that fits perfectly. The one Gift that will make you, you.”

The room erupted into nervous murmurs. They had all been assembled the same way, grow tubes, calibrated samples, the same procedures, but the combinations of adenine, guanine, thymine, cytosine, and souline reacted differently in each body. Some bodies simply would not withstand the surge of power the Final Binding delivered.

“Oh, do stop with the nervous looks,” Mother's voice snapped, cheeks flushing. “You should be used to this by now. You are as ready for tomorrow night as you will ever be. There is no more training, no more lessons. You are headed into the final step. So, chins up.”

Her confidence did not translate to the students’ faces. Even Little Sister looked uneasy, and that sight twisted Gilly’s stomach into knots. Mother tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“I think I have just the thing to cheer you up.” She spun with a sudden, excited spring and flicked her hand in front of her. A data-link opened midair like a floating chalkboard and followed her as she walked between the rows.

She pulled up a list of Gifts that had emerged in past Final Bindings, each entry paired with transformation photos of children who had survived. The images were meant to inspire, but the commotion among the students was not what she expected.

“Why are you all acting like this?” she demanded, hand on hip, finger jabbing at the screen. “These changes are phenomenal, are you not pleased? Think: advanced mind-reading, animal instincts, levitation, even breathing underwater. Do any of you expect those abilities to be possible in the bodies you wear now? Unfathomable!”

The students squirmed. Gilly thought their fear was foolish. If she could survive one more Binding and gain a single Gift, she would be the happiest girl alive. A changing body was a small price for that future.

Mother’s gaze narrowed on the front rows. “What is it, Tobias?”

Tobias looked pale and uneasy, no surprise, given Mother’s description of the Final Binding. He turned his head toward Gilly. She flicked her fingers in a quiet “go ahead.”

“So, um, Mother, what is the probable survival rate for us?” Tobias asked, voice trembling. “We’ve seen the losses, but the Final Binding sounds worse than anything before. Losing people is getting harder. The last Binding almost broke us. I need a number. I need something concrete.”

“Now, Tobias,” Mother chided, “why would you think that’s a pertinent question?”

He went pale and pushed back from his desk. “Well, I, Mother, you talked about the pain, so—”

“Pain?” Mother’s voice rose. “You worry about pain? Pain is survival. Pain is life. Pain is the greatest sign that you yet live!” She moved between the seats and stopped in front of him. “Death is the opposite: nothingness, coldness, non-response.”

She leaned forward, attempting a maternal gesture, and stroked his cheek with her gloved hand. Then she straightened abruptly; Tobias twitched and sank back into his chair.

“So be of good cheer,” she clapped twice. “If we remain positive in the face of pain, the majority of us shall join each other in the Upper in triumph!”

Gilly felt her hackles rise. Mother had dodged the question and spun it into a sermon. She wanted the numbers as much as Tobias did. Without a Gift, without proof she would survive, the Upper felt more distant than ever. Mother turned back to the class.

“A few last things before you go,” she said, closing the video feed and straightening her desk. “I want to fill your heads with images that make the desire to survive imperative. Check under your seats, there are delineation files that explain the Upper in more detail than you’ve ever seen. Take a file and review it at your leisure.” She then picked up several smooth wooden clipboards with calculations and specs, then looked up sharply, warning in her eyes.

“Remember: no matter what you see in those files, nothing compares to seeing it firsthand. Remain calm, prepare yourselves, and stay level-headed. Do that, and most of you will survive and join the others in the Upper.”

At once, hands dove beneath the seats. The thick, fibrous bases parted to reveal small data devices. Gilly pulled hers out, plugged it into her wristlink, and began to scroll through the files. The auditorium fell into a hush as images of the Upper flickered across their screens.