Unworthy: Marked to die. Raised to survive. Read Online Free PDF Page A

himself out of trouble.
    Whatever the cause, he seems calmer, and for that I’m grateful.
    He follows me to Grandad’s shed, where I climb up on an old ladder to reach some pots on the highest shelf.
    “Hey, watch yourself! Let me do that,” he puts a hand on my leg to make sure I’m steady.
    “I’m fine, Bastian,” I laugh. “How do you suppose I cope for half the year without you?”
    Climbing back down and once again safely on the ground, I pass him half the pots. “Well, I’m here now,” he points out. “You should be more careful. What if you fell?”
    “I’ll cope with that if it happens,” I reply, waving away his concern.
    I understand that he’s being protective, but his anxiety is a reminder of the greatest distinction between us, and it grates. I turn my face away from him and move to fill the pots with compost.
    Bastian is Firstborn, which means he’s valuable to the Polis. Important. Worthy… of all sorts of things, including medical attention. Whereas I am Unworthy. If something happens to me, I’m pretty much on my own.
    It’s also the reason that he knows nothing about my night outings, and I have no intention of him finding out. Much as he looks after others, he might draw the line at weak babies, believing that the personal risk was too great. He would never understand the compulsion that sends me out when a baby is exposed, and would find ways of stopping me.
    “You’ll be there tonight?” Bastian asks, changing the subject. “At the naming ceremony?”
    I shrug. “You know I will be. Once we’re old enough, all the women have to be there.”
    “I could wait for you afterwards, if you want some moral support.”
    “That would be… yes, please. Although I hope that everything will be…”
    I don’t look at him, but I can feel him watching me in the silence that follows. His tone is serious when he says, “It will be ok. Chloe is healthy, and young. She’s looked after herself. The baby will be fine.”
    “I’m sure,” I nod. “I just want tonight to be over.” No-one knows better than I the repercussions of a baby not passing inspection. For many mothers, the stigma of having birthed an Unworthy baby is difficult to bear, only reversed when she leaves it in the circle. For the baby of course, it means almost certain death.
    But not for me. Even the elements didn’t want me.
    Bastian smiles, thinking of his sister the last time he saw her. “You’d think she was carrying a Counsellor, the way she acted after she found out she was pregnant! Special food and Polis medicines, not having to meet even half of her quota.” He shakes his head. “With all that special treatment, it’s surprising any babies fail the inspection. In the hubs it’s just a physical exam. I mean, when was the last time we had one here in Greytown?”
    I can’t answer him, and simply shake my head. Three days ago , I think, but it sticks in my throat. Each and every rejected infant is etched into my memory, and not just because of the hours spent on damp leaves in the forest. It’s also the weight of expectation which the mothers place firmly on my shoulders. My existence gives them hope, it’s as simple as that. Until the baby’s death, when it’s dashed again, and they have to live with the loss of their child. At that point, I’m no longer a symbol of hope to them but a painful reminder that their child wasn’t strong enough to survive in our world.
    I’ve stopped what I’m doing and am staring at my hands. This is the biggest issue of contention between us, and I have learned to hold my tongue for fear of giving away my most closely guarded secret. Bastian is looking at me, waiting till I come back from where my thoughts have taken me.
    “There is something I want to talk to you about while I’m on Reprieve. Something important,” he says.
    “Oh?” This sounds interesting. His eyes are smiling, so I’m intrigued rather than worried. I can also see that he’s not going to tell