Altered by Gennifer Albin

about the Cypress Project. Kincaid hopes it will enlighten you,” Dante says. His tone is formal as he leads us into a room with a large white screen at one end. I’ve been avoiding him since the day in the garden, but even though a few days have passed, none of the tension hanging like a cloud between us has dissipated. I wonder if Jost and Erik can sense it.
    The walls of the theater are papered in crimson brocade, and the exaggerated figures of women bear torches overhead, glowing gold in the dim room. The carpets here are so plush they look like velvet and the row of armchair-like seats is equally divine. It’s nothing like the spare white room where we watched vids at the Coventry.
    The Cypress Project. Greta spoke of it in the Old Curiosity Shop, and Kincaid mentioned it earlier today. He was following through on the answers he promised me. “The Cypress Project is Arras? Is that why our capital is named Cypress?” I say.
    “I suppose,” he murmurs. “It would certainly be a reminder of their cleverness.”
    “But they didn’t want anyone to know about Earth,” I say.
    “Not subsequent generations, but the original population of Arras was quite proud of their achievement.”
    “A film is like a vid?” I ask, pointing to the screen.
    “Yes.” Dante excuses himself, obviously eager to get away from me. I’m not sorry to see him go. The awkwardness between us is getting harder to hide, and I still haven’t told the others about Dante’s claim.
    We take seats and wait for the film to start. Kincaid enters but he doesn’t sit with us; instead he chooses a small sofa placed to the side of the room. Only Valery sits with him. He nods to me, and I turn away, embarrassed to be caught staring at him.
    Blurring light streams past me and life bursts onto the screen. The images are in black-and-white and they crackle although there’s no sound. Dante returns and sits next to me. I focus on the screen, feeling Jost’s arm drape around my shoulders.
    Tanks roll through cities. Soldiers march in proud lines. Women wave from windows. A man with a smudge of a mustache screams from a podium. Planes drop bombs overhead. Then a man with a shock of white hair appears, speaking directly to the camera. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but he looks congenial and important.
    “Who is that?” I ask Dante.
    “The scientist who discovered the strands,” he whispers.
    I suddenly realize that the great scientist Loricel first told me about—the one whose name was long since forgotten by Arras—is the same man Kincaid told me bore the name of the mark on my wrist: Kairos. He moves across the screen, and the camera follows to zoom in on a small machine comprised of whirring gears.
    “A loom,” I breathe.
    The scientist demonstrates the loom for a group of men. I glance in the direction of Kincaid, who was once an official in Arras, then jerk my eyes back to the screen. Kincaid is watching us as we watch the film, and now I feel his eyes on me.
    The film shifts to footage of girls waiting in line to be weighed, to have their eyes checked, and their hands measured. Many smile and wave to the camera. One curls her arm up and stares out fiercely before dissolving into laughter.
    “Are those…” Jost’s voice is full of surprise.
    “The original Eligibles,” Dante finishes. I forget the tension between us, too wrapped up in the film. “We have to assume from the film that they are. I truly wish we had the sound so we could hear what they’re telling us. Most of the other records have been destroyed. The Guild has worked very hard at ensuring confidentiality regarding the Cypress Project.”
    But it’s obvious to me what’s going on, especially as the screen flashes lists of items approved for transport followed by written guidelines for safe addition and eligible participants.
    “Wait,” I say as something slowly dawns on me. “Those eligibility requirements weren’t for Spinsters.”
    “No, families and