MARTHAS IN A TIZZIE

Being driven into her driveway, Naomi Putnam spied the phalanx of Guardian vehicles. How could she not. This was reminiscent of the day Warren had been taken, during the 'Ofwarren' debacle. Like then, the Putnum Marthas were scurrying around. When the Putnum Guardian alit from Naomi's SUV, he was approached by armed, unknown colleagues of his.

It was when those unknown Guardians disarmed Warren's man, that Naomi started to panic.

Even more so when they opened her back door, grabbed her by the arm, and manhandled her into one of their waiting SUVs.

'MISSING' IS A RELATIVE TERM

Rita Blue had actually never once actually been in an 'interrogation room', not in a legitimate police service facility. One benefit of having been enslaved in Gilead, was that getting in trouble with the 'authorities' usually was 'taken care of' well, well before any formal investigation.

This one, though, was exactly like the ones she'd seen on television in the 'before times', watching police procedurals with her sister and her nephew. Every once in a while, her son would stay late if Criminal Minds had been on.

She'd lost track of the status of the door leading into the room - it was not until she heard the electronic 'buzz' that she contemplated that perhaps she'd been locked in. By the time she felt the rise of a panic attack, the door was already open. A rumple-suited, presumed detective came through, with a big smile introduced himself and sat opposite her. His hands were folded politely on the table between them.

"Ms. Rita Blue, as I live and breathe!" His pronouncement replaced the need for her to introduce herself. So far, the only thing she'd said in the police detachment was at the front desk.

She introduced herself anyway, "I'm Rita Blue. An acquaintance of mine is missing. I'm not sure what to do - but I'd like to report a missing person, if that's what you do with something like this."

The clerk at the desk had asked her to wait while she went back into the offices. Returning, the clerk said, "follow me," and led Rita to this room - where she'd sat alone for about 15 minutes.

She waited for the detective to continue. Apparently he'd been waiting, too, so he took the initiative.

"It's an honour to meet you, Ms. Blue," he said. "My daughter is at a school which has a few of the kids form Angel's Flight attending it. She's part of the refugee support-club at the school, and we've met some of the kids who'd been on that airplane with you." He gave another look of admiration, "I'd looked into what you did, I've scoured the on-line groups which have delved into the minutiae of what you accomplished. You people down there in Gilead, you're miracle workers."

"Well, I get way way too much credit," Rita said. The look on her face was a clue to the detective that she was uncomfortable talking about it. So he switched gears.

"So, you're here to report a missing person," he said. "I'll be right up front with you, Ms. Blue, we get almost daily inquiries like that from your community, the Little America community."

Rita said a little sheepishly, "yes, I know. I have outstanding police files open on my sister and nephew." She then added, "this one is a little different."

"How so?" he asked. "Before you answer, I also have to say that being 'missing' is not necessarily a crime in Canada. There are many reasons an adult might want to, for lack of a better word, 'disappear'. Look, I only mention that to be right up front. Whoever this person is, they may actually only want some privacy."

Rita said insistently, "this one is different. It's Mrs. Serena Joy Waterford?"

"You mean the lady just returned from Gilead in the news?" He then looked like some lights had gone on in his head, "in what sense is she 'missing'? Wasn't she just evicted from that Gilead-thing, that building just a few miles from here?"

"She's pregnant, detective." Rita blurted.

"Yes, I know. The news has been all over that." There was a good 30 seconds of silence when the detective said, "look, Ms. Blue. I value greatly your efforts in relation to Gilead. If I had my way, that country would cease to exist. But I need to know what other information you can bring about Mrs. Waterford, other than that she's pregnant."

Blue got a bit more animated. "Detective, I've lived in Gilead. The notion that the New Gilead Commanders would voluntarily release a pregnant woman - a Commander's Wife - is beyond suspicious. Yes, she was seen at that Centre - but since its closure, she was last seen being driven away by a known Guardian of Gilead. She's not been seen since."

"How long ago was that? I mean, the papers, they reported on all that."

Rita said, "the papers got it right."

The detective looked at her, now with more seriousness. "Look, Ms. Blue. With the information as it exists, I really cannot help you. But I have a suggestion. The United States, they have a Consulate in town. You could perhaps file a report with them. Other than that I don't know what to tell you."

He stood and rapped on the door, and someone from the outside opened it. At that simple action, Rita noted that she overtly relaxed her muscles - the door had opened, and she was being invited, politely, to leave. She should probably obsess on that simple, unGilead-like action, which she in fact did. All day.

Standing, she said, "well, I've been to the Consulate. They say that Mrs. Waterford has in effect, renounced her American citizenship. It would be a simple matter for her to reclaim it - something she's not done."

The detective asked, "do they think she's 'missing'?"

Rita answered, "no one said. They just said that it was not their concern." As Rita collected her things, slung her bag over her shoulder to head out she repeated, "she's pregnant, sir. Someone should find out where she is."

UNKNOWN CALLER (TRANSCRIPT ELSEWHERE)

It had taken Oliver a good hour and a half to slip into sleep. As it was he could only drift off when his anxieties calmed, while near his mom. Sylvia being Sylvia, she felt guilty that her mind was not on Oliver's fussing, it had been on her work - which was suffering greatly.

Oliver was getting big, so this time Sylvia felt it as she carried him across the hall into his room. He was heavy when limp! She put him to bed, covered him up, and waited for sleep to really really settle. She knew once back in her own room, she was going to have to sleep - sleep soundly - or the next day (already 2 hours old!) was going to be another wash out. Work wise.

As it was she safely made it back to her bed. Before slipping in, she noted that the covers were in exactly the same position and shape as when she'd taken Oliver from it a few minutes previous. These days it was that sort of thing that hit her, hit her hard.

There was no one else there to rearrange covers while Sylvia was up with the kid. There was no one else to keep the bed warm. There was no one else to listen to Sylvia obsess about how worried she was about her current employment.

Sylvia was alone.

"Oh quit it," Sylvia said to herself. "Mom has been a gem. I have my family, I'd be lost without them."

Yet why was Sylvia now so lost?

Perhaps the phone was now ringing with the answer? She picked up the suddenly illuminated smartphone, and it had 'UNKNOWN CALLER' on the display. 'Jesus,' she thought, 'it's two fucking a.m.' She left the call to voicemail.

Hearing no notification that anyone had left a message, Sylvia started to drift off, worried about the meeting tomorrow at work. In the a.m., in about 7 hours - 7 hours in which Oliver would need to be dressed, fed and got off to school.

Then the phone again. 'UNKNOWN CALLER'. What if?

RITA

"Rita, I've taken the afternoon off. We can sit - I mean, I'd like it if we could sit….." Sylvia babbled.

Rita Blue had just returned with coffee. "Take a few sips. This is the blend I've been saving."

After the first taste, Sylvia closed her eyes and said, "it was her, Rita. It was Em. She sounded good, she really did."

Rita let the silence linger, then said, "… and?"

Sylvia said, "it sounded like a goodbye."

The two just sat there.

THE NUCLEAR OPTION

Commander's Wife Sonia, she managed to push past all the other Wives to get close to Naomi Putnam. "Naomi," Sonia cried out, pushing back tears, "what's this about? What's your Warren doing?"

The Wives, they had been packed into this medical waiting room. This had been the medical facility which had carried out Warren Putnam's punishment, following the 'Ofwarren' debacle. Sonia had counted 25 Wives, so she said to Naomi, "it's not all of us, but just about. What's going on?"

The two of them looked over at a developing commotion on the other side of the room. Two Wives were squabbling, fighting over one of the few seats available. By Sonia's count, there were only a dozen seats, which meant that more than half were standing - in rather cramped quarters.

Naomi said to Sonia, "I don't know, Warren was not home. A group of Guardians, ones unknown to me came to the house and said I was needed. They had disarmed Warren's house Guardians, saying they didn't want any interference."

"Lord above, Naomi," Sonia said, "this is about you and Serena, isn't it? Once again you've deviated, my lady. This time we're all going to be disciplined. I just know it."

Naomi tried to keep calm. "Honestly, Sonia," she said, "it's all talk. But then again, you must know what they're doing to Serena in Canada."

"By his word, Naomi!" Sonia said above the clamour of more pushing and shoving by the Wives. "People have to hang on to their husbands, especially if they have been blessed by God with the ability to conceive. Serena, she wrote that! She let Fred slip away from her! Now it's you complaining. Why'd you have to bring up Serena!?"

Naomi said, "it was only a conversation - at a tea. Idle chat. We all knew we were not to tell our husbands about our concerns. But they were still concerns. If it can happen to Serena, it could happen to any of us."

At that, from out in the hall at some distance a gunshot rang out. The Wives instinctively squatted to the floor with a scream, putting up their arms to shield their faces.

The locked waiting room door, it opened. Naomi looked up to see Warren's house Guardian with an automatic rifle at the ready.

He yelled, "All right, listen up! Naomi Putnam, Grace Scott, Mrs. Matthew Calhoun, come with me." Naomi jumped to her feet and pushed her way forward towards the Guardian - a much wished for friendly face. Sonia froze, whispering, "Naomi, take me!" When she got to him, neither of the two others were there.

Naomi turned and said, "girls, listen to this man - Grace, Mrs. Calhoun! Get over here!"

When the three women were properly assembled, they were led out into the hall - in front of them was a standoff between Guardians, all armed at the ready - against each other. Naomi wondered against wonder, how could they tell who was who?

The three women were hustled outside, their feet barely touching the ground, each was then separately escorted to a different, waiting SUV. Naomi recognized hers, and was pushed inside.

Thankfully, Warren was in the back.

Before she could say anything, Warren started. He said, "Praise God, we got you out of there. The Council, they want to teach Serena a lesson. That's neither here nor there. The Council got wind of your support for Serena, they were going to take it out on you - on all the Wives."

"What's going on, Warren?" Naomi pleaded. "Most of the Wives, they're still in there!"

Putnam said matter-of-factly, "They're taking fingers. The same finger that Serena'd had taken."

"You're countenancing this?" Naomi said. "You're a High Commander!"

"Me, I'm not countenancing it. You're here, aren't you?" Warren then explained why Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Calhoun had similarly been rescued. "Both Steven and Matthew are for this. If Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Calhoun get released, it'll make it look like they're on my side."

"If not, Naomi," Putnam said putting his lone hand on his Wife's lap, "We'll be in Toronto by morning." He thought to himself, 'I hope'.