A familiar pressure roused Hae-Joo from sleep. He knew before his eyes opened that it was Sonmi, resting her head on his chest again. The weight of her head and the warmth of her breath on him felt good; he could have stayed that way. But now that he was awake, he had to look at her… to know why.
He slowly propped himself up on one elbow, causing her to raise her head. As she gazed back at him, she seemed nervous, but not scared—unlike when he had jerked up and startled her the last time, and like so many other times he had seen her frightened since she followed him out of the diner. And she had a look in her eyes… the same look he had seen the first time he awoke to find her resting her head on his chest. It had drawn his face toward hers, before the alarm told him Enforcers were coming; it shone even more clearly now. Could it be…?
He could tell she wanted something... needed something. "Are you all right?" he asked her softly.
She hesitated. Then—"I know… it is forbidden."
She drew in her breath, but said no more. Her face was very close to his.
His eyes fell to her lips, and his heart began to pound. There was no mistaking her. He had dreamt of this moment, yet he had never allowed himself to hope it would actually happen.
Well before they met, Hae-Joo had resolved to treat the ascending fabricant that would be in his care with kindness. He had known that she would greatly need it. However, he had been surprised by the immediate sense of connection he felt to Sonmi-451 when he saw her for the first time in person.
Like most so-called pure-bloods, he had never had a conversation with a fabricant. Unlike almost his entire kind, he wished to treat her as his equal; but he had also prepared for an expected difficulty interacting with her, due to the immense gulf that the systems of Unanimity had created between them and enforced throughout their lives. Yet to his surprise, he felt right away that he understood her. She spoke so little, but he found that he could read her thoughts and emotions in her eyes as clearly as he knew his own.
He had turned around and startled her, already awake and creeping up hesitantly behind him, and had to convince her not to dart away. Then he had to convince her that her best chance of staying alive, and continuing what he knew to be her ascendance, was in leaving the diner—the only life she knew—with him, a man she'd never seen before, and doubtless the first pure-blood to speak to her beyond giving orders. Immediately.
He saw her taking in what he said to her, comprehending, yet utterly bewildered at the same time, and uncertain if she could believe him. The way he spoke to her and acted toward her, even his very appearance in the diner at this hour, toppled the rules of her universe; she was, understandably, very frightened. Yet he saw that she wished to trust him, even in her confusion and fear. He also saw her desire to live: not only to survive, but to live. To think and learn in ways fundamentally forbidden to her, even knowing all too well the price if she were caught. His heart had pounded as she struggled to decide, as if her choice would shape not only his mission, but his very soul. And with her shaking nod of assent, he had felt exhilaration as never before.
In the minutes, hours, and days that followed, he had witnessed her awakening self-awareness. He had watched awe and delight fight the fear deep within her as she experienced the things in life he took for granted for the first time. He had seen helpless terror overwhelm her again and again, only to be overcome again and again by courage—courage that her entire creation from genoming through conditioning, with constant reinforcement from the catechisms, was intended to subdue. And it had soon become clear to him how utterly lovely he found her, despite having seen her features and figure many other times among the fabricants of Neo Seoul. For in her ascendance, her face and body expressed her inner being in ways that no other fabricant's had, making them uniquely and beautifully hers.
But fabricants, of course, were allowed to possess nothing. It was just one of many ways Unanimity maintained their inferiority and lack of individuality, keeping their status well below that of even the poorest subs. When Sonmi-451 agreed to leave the diner with Hae-Joo, she had been barefoot, clad only in one of the short, papery white sleep shifts that she and her sisters retrieved from their clothing chute every night, and the ever-present metal collar. She had looked thin and helpless, practically naked; he supposed that was exactly as the shift had been designed to make her look. He had brought shoes and a short black cloak for her to wear during her escape, and he quickly took them out of his bag and held them out to her. She stared at them blankly, uncomprehending.
"Put these on, please," he told her gently. She looked back at him with huge eyes, and he had to realize that the simple act of donning clothes that did not come from a chute, but a pure-blood's hands, was completely alien to her. But she obeyed, and he felt somewhat relieved when the cloak and shoes were on her slender body and feet. A far cry from the bright, cheery eatery of business hours, the diner was kept dim and grey during the fabricants' sleep shift, revealing it as the prison it always was; she looked cold and vulnerable in it. This was the only home Unanimity had seen fit to give her and her sisters. But soon, she would know the pleasure of a far more comfortable dwelling... if he could manage to get them there safely.
He quickly finished destroying the Union monitoring chips concealed throughout the diner. They were no longer needed, and would only give the Enforcers clues in the investigation to come. She watched him silently, eyes ever wide. He finished where he had begun, at the door to the storeroom; a click of the orison, and it slid shut, enclosing the grisly scene within.
"Come," he said, leading the way to the half-open security gate... but he could hear that she wasn't following him. He looked back to her where she stood, frozen. For her to have difficulty physically leaving the diner had been expected; he would have to proceed very carefully. He slowly took a step toward her.
Abruptly, she darted away. For an instant he thought panic had gotten hold of her, and he tensed to act, to keep her from hurting herself—but she soon stopped before one of the other, closed doors. It was to the lost and found room. With a trembling hand, she touched the slot where an access key would have gone, then looked back at him. There was something like a plea in her eyes; clearly, she wanted him to open the door.
She had spent time with Yoona-939 in the lost and found room, time of crucial significance to her ascendance. Perhaps she wanted a last look—or even to take something with her. Any spark of initiative from this timid fabricant was precious, and must be encouraged. He quickly joined her at the door and clicked the orison, opening it.
She scurried past him to a carton in the corner, reached inside, and snatched up a small device, a sony or kino—yes. But as she turned back to him, her shoulders were hunched with fear, and her eyes full of terror... even shame. She seemed ready for him to punish her, even as she clutched the item tightly.
His pleasure gave way to pity. She had already decided to do what for a fabricant was unthinkable, based solely on his word; but the catechisms were burned deep into her, and handling Consumer property without permission most certainly earned xcisement. She may have decided to trust him and escape, but how could she know what the rules would be from now on?
The little device probably had much to do with the whispers and sounds that the monitoring chip had picked up when she and Yoona-939 were in the lost and found room. The fact that Sonmi-451 wished take an object of significance with her into her new life boded very encouragingly for her ascendance, and it could only make their escape easier if it bolstered her courage. It was the closest thing to a possession that she had, and it might even give him something useful to work with as he helped her continue her ascendance. Far from angering him, her spontaneous action elated him, and proved that he had been right about her.
But there had been no time to explain all of this to her then; he simply nodded as reassuringly as he could, unable to keep a slight smile from his face. He could see both surprise and relief in her face as she crept out of the room, holding the precious kino tightly. He clicked the door shut and moved again toward the security gate, and this time, she followed him.
But as he ducked under the half-open gate, he heard her footsteps slow. He looked back at her from the other side, and she came to a halt, trembling, fearfully eyeing the barrier, the kino grasped before her like a talisman. He held his breath. This was the crucial moment. She had verbally agreed, but now she had to take the irreversible step. His hand went out to her, an instinctive gesture for her to join him... but the choice had to be hers alone.
He saw her frightened eyes leave the gate, focusing on him. Then she took a deep breath; bent forward, and darted across. He exhaled in relief as she joined him on the other side. His arm went around her automatically, to steady her, to ward off panic, but triumph roared through his soul: she had done it.
He clicked the gate shut, then moved her slowly but firmly toward the lift. She was panting anxiously, peering around as if disoriented, almost staggering; she seemed to welcome his support. Such reactions were only natural, and she showed no signs of more serious trauma. He was glad his arms seemed to help her, for they had a long way to go. Now the journey would truly begin.