COMBATING INFERTILITY

There was a day when Commanders were judged by their fertility. But even that had become relaxed. The fertility crisis was just as severe, but among the giant hordes of unwashed in Gilead, people no longer looked to Commanders' houses filled with children as a sign of the success of our righteous State.

Me being away for so long, that had surprised me.

The Commanders' household provided the example first through natural birth with the Wife. But that was rare, even today. Indeed, Biblical warrant had established examples other than the norm. During reeducation on my return to Gilead, that had been covered again and again. And again. Genesis 30. In Toronto when I was growing up, they had never told us about Genesis 30.

Even today, though, Commanders demonstrated their virility mainly through the Handmaid-Bilhah program. The obvious Biblical warrant for that was well known, for those who had grown up here. Less well known was the virility Commanders showed at places like Jezebels. I will leave that one alone, because it had nothing to do with what I wish to write about today.

Commander Blaine had only been rumoured to have once been married. Be that as it may, obviously there were no children which came from that, so calling him a bachelor seemed to fit.

But why no Handmaid? Was it because there was no Wife in the home? I must admit, I don't know the Laws of Gilead well enough, not to that depth in any event. To be honest, my job was not to think of those things. My job was to serve my Commander.

So to get to the point, I dropped Commander Blaine at The Chancery for a meeting one morning, one he said was going to go well into the night. He handed me a file folder before getting out. "Here," he said, "I've made an appointment for you with the Aunts. You'll be meeting with one of the Founder Aunts. Ardua Hall." When I took the file he quipped, "Don't be late, I don't want pissed off Aunts on my ass."

Blaine got out, but stopped before climbing the stairs to the Chancery building, and I opened the folder. In it were passes to Ardua Hall. I'd dropped The Commander off there twice or three times since entering his service, but I had never been inside myself. Even Commanders' passes were checked and verified there. I'd not seen that anywhere else before. It didn't occur to me to ask him what that was about.

But if it had occurred to me, maybe all this was about securing him a Handmaid. A Handmaid in a home with no Wife.

As he outside the SUV he said, "Once you're done just go home. I'll let you know when I need a pick-up. Either that or another Commander can see to my transit. Enjoy the day." At that he closed the car door and headed up the marble stairs.

Then another thought occurred to me. I was a single guy myself, and no pairing had ever been arranged for me.

No matter. It was rare to be out of sight of my commander for so long that I settled in to what up in Canada would have been called, 'a day off'.

I'm not sure if the Commander's SUV in Ardua Hall's parking lot impressed them inside, or caused them concern. It took a good seven minutes - I had timed it - to pass security at the gate. In a Commander's SUV! I went to their front desk and in front of the Aunt who clerked it, felt what a lot of Guardians felt in their presence.

Menace. Not fear, but danger. It was menace. It was personal.

It was a first for me, but especially for those in the early days of Gilead - let's face it, people like guardians and Aunts jockeyed to be able to do their jobs. The prohibition on women reading and writing - well, that one had been settled in the Aunts' favour because of the fertility crisis. Our reeducation had covered that. Sorting out situational authority was a Security 101 course at the Academy. Whereas Guardians had authority in the now rare salvagings, Aunts had authority in births and particicutions. Guardians sometimes, in effect, took orders from them, all-be-they women.

Such was the balance Gilead maintained in its modern righteousness.

At the front desk, the Aunt summoned Aunt Helena, known even by the likes of me as one of the Founders. Our District was the one looked to, a model in the Aunt/Handmaid/Bilhah-birth relationship for the whole Republic. Whereas in the early days, old-Handmaids were simply sent to the Colonies, today parts of Ardua Hall were in effect retirement homes for them, once removed from service.

You never heard about that in Canada. Gilead honoured and served those who in turn have served. Kiki/Rebecca never told anyone about that.

FOUNDER AUNTS

Aunt Helena must have been in her late 70s. She walked briskly to the front desk and with no formality asked me to follow her. I followed her into a small office, she beckoned me to sit at the table, and she settled in at the opposite side, first placing a folder on it - then she opened it. This was the first time I'd been alone in a room with a woman since Canada. I felt the need to flee on that account alone.

"Let's begin," she said. "First. Do you want some tea or a muffin?"

"No, ma'am," was my response.

"Please call me Aunt Helena." She then started lifting through the pages attached at the top of the file. "So, you're Jeff Jeffreys. It is a pleasure to meet you. May I say that it is heartening to see you in service to Gilead after your ordeal. Among non-believers, and traitors. I am touched to see the way you have turned out. You're a credit to our Republic."

"Thank you, Aunt Helena. I am grateful to be of service."

"So, let's get to it." She then started reading. The whole thing from that point was a bit of a blur. I'd always assumed I'd been the child of John and Irene Jefferys, him a Commander in the earliest days of Gilead. I don't know why, but I never once considered that my parents may have made use of the Handmaid's program. Toronto newspapers be damned.

Which, I rehearsed in my mind on the way back home, they had. They'd had a handmaid. But, I was not the product of such a venture either. I was no child of Genesis 30, as they called it. I was no child of Bilhah. The report from Canada had just been verified by Aunt Helena no less.

I had been 'a placement' in the Jefferys home. Adopted. Aunt Helena spoke the names of the Handmaid at that time, as well as the martha the Jefferys had had - I hope I was remembering those names right. My Guardian's investigative training was escaping me right then.

Back with Aunt Helena, it was at that time there'd been a heavy knock at the door to that little room. Not waiting for a verbal cue to enter, Aunt Lydia herself simply barged in. She strode over to Aunt Helena, grabbed the folder, closed it and cradled it under her arm for safety.

She did not scold me. She launched into Aunt Helena, "I've told you numerous times that access to the files is limited. I don't care who you are. I don't care who this gentleman is."

Aunt Helena weakly explained that I was a returnee - "one of the trafficked children from 20 years ago. What once was lost is now found."

Lydia said sternly, "I don't care. Aunt Helena, please go to Schlafly Café. I will meet you there after securing this." She pointed to the file. She then looked at me, "This is not your fault, son. But I will be having a word with your Commander. He and I have crossed swords before. You can leave."

The way she said, "You can leave", left me with no doubt as to what I was about to do. And I was a Guardian. With a weapon back in the SUV.

Leaving all sorts of hypotheses unexamined I left, drove away with a heavier foot than the one that had taken me there.

WHO WERE MY PARENTS THEN?

Ok, add this to my list. Throughout the Academy, I'd dedicated myself to the circumstances of my trafficking. My fellows back in Canada, nearly none of them even wanted to know. "Just move on," they'd said. "They did us a favour," was another bleating of the apostate. Being back here, I wanted the guilty to be held accountable. For putting me through all that.

But it was now bugging me - just who had been trafficked from the Jefferys house almost 20 years ago? I mean, it was me. But who was that? Who had that four-year old been? He was not a Jefferys.

What name had Aunt Helena used to identify the Jefferys' martha from back then? I remembered, and will not print it here. What had that newspaper piece from Canada said about my family? "Household salvaged". Records from that time - at least in the Guardian service - were sketchy. The Record's Division within the service was only ten years old these days as it was.

As you can tell, me including all that here says something. About me. The Commander was now talking about a 'Guardian detail' for him at this house. Another body-man? Two more? I suppose I should be insulted, but I was not. I could handle being his body-man, and the extra resources I needed to see to that task was more than made up for by street patrols of my comrades. Even more than made up for by the places Commander Blaine frequented - most notably, of course, the Chancery.

But there were questions. Looked like I was about to have the time to pursue them. Questions which could be answered by diving into record keeping, records what that there were. My hunch was that I was done with any records at Ardua Hall. Aunt Lydia and her minions were tough nuts to crack. When it seemed appropriate, I was going to ask the Commander how he had managed my meeting with Aunt Helena. Or whether or not Aunt Lydia had ever subsequently had a conversation with him. I mean, I was his body man, I would know of any face-to-face encounter, if only because of what I would assume would be sparks generated. I'd yet to have ever needed to 'take one' meant for the Commander, but in Aunt Lydia's presence I thought that that could be a very real possibility.

PERSONAL RESEARCH IN GILEAD? ARE YOU KIDDING?

But this business of researching something. Something personal. They're good at that in Canada. Free access to libraries. Here, there's always a lingering sense of sedition when one pursues questions about themselves. One never knows which over-turned rock will end up putting one….. on the Wall? (Even though that was mainly out of favour these days.)

Ok, here there it was. How'd I get trafficked? If it had been a martha who'd done it, was it Rita? Was it the Jefferys' house martha? What had happened to the Jefferys' household once I was gone? Is it true that everyone in it had been salvaged? Would I have been included, even as a young lad? Or were they referring to my 'birth family' being salvaged?

I now knew first hand why Gilead discouraged this sort of questioning. I would. Canada encouraged questions with no answers, under the guise of personal freedom. Gilead prefered answers and leave the questions out of it - for the greater good.

Even putting those two things side by side was the first crack in my former iron-clad devotion to this country.

Blaine was doing this to me. Why?