A year sailed by, and the cramped apartment transformed alongside Andrew's rapid development. The Matriarchy increased their rations threefold after his ten-month evaluation, when he shocked the assessment panel by not only walking confidently across the room but forming complete sentences.
"Would like water, please," he'd announced clearly, pointing to the pitcher on the examiner's desk.
The woman's clipboard had clattered to the floor. Eva's jaw dropped, though Andrew noted she quickly composed herself, as if expecting such precocity from her son.
"Remarkable vocalization," the examiner noted, recovering her professional demeanor. "Sentence structure well beyond developmental norms."
By his second birthday, Andrew carried conversations that left visitors stunned. He carefully calibrated his speech—advanced enough to secure their privileged status but not so sophisticated it might trigger suspicion about his true nature.
"The sun makes plants grow with the ligh.. light" he deliberately stumbled over "light" during one assessment, pretending to struggle with the concept while demonstrating understanding beyond his years.
Their living conditions improved dramatically. The sisters moved to a three-room apartment in a preferred residential block. Fresh produce appeared weekly. Eva received a clothing allowance that transformed her wardrobe from threadbare necessities to modest comforts.
"All because of you, my brilliant boy," Eva whispered one night, stroking his hair as she tucked him in. Her eyes glistened with tears of pride tinged with disbelief at their changed circumstances.
The Matriarchy classified Andrew as "Alpha Potential comprehension"—the highest designation for male children comprehension level. This status brought unexpected benefits and scrutiny. Amara landed a coveted administrative position within the local Matriarchy office—no coincidence, Andrew recognized, but strategic placement to keep their family under observation.
"They want to make sure he maintains trajectory," Amara explained to Eva one evening, unaware Andrew listened from his bedroom. "Children sometimes plateau after early promise."
"He won't," Eva replied with fierce conviction.
Most significantly, Andrew received educational materials meant for seven-year-olds. Thick textbooks filled with knowledge he pretended to struggle through while actually devouring every page. The Matriarchy's curriculum revealed crucial insights about their society's structure and history.
Eva spent evenings with these books too, her finger tracing lines slowly, mouthing difficult words. Andrew watched her determination with growing respect. She'd never had formal education beyond basic literacy, yet tackled complex concepts with stubborn persistence.
Their evening reading sessions became precious opportunities. Eva learned alongside him, filling gaps in her limited education. Andrew gathered vital information about this world while maintaining his façade of extraordinary-but-still-childlike development.
"The Great Collapse decimated male fertility rates worldwide," Eva read haltingly from a history text. "The Matriarchy arose from necessity when..."
She stopped, frowning at concepts clearly beyond her understanding. Andrew memorized every word, piecing together this world's fragmented past. The knowledge became ammunition in his growing arsenal—weapons for a battle he couldn't yet define but sensed loomed in his future.
"Enough reading," Eva would eventually say, kissing his forehead. "Even brilliant boys need sleep."
Andrew complied, closing his eyes while his mind continued processing everything he'd learned. His physical growth remained frustratingly slow, but his understanding expanded exponentially. Patience, he reminded himself nightly. Time remained his greatest ally—and his most persistent enemy at the same time.
Andrew hunched over the battered geography text, tracing the outline of what was once called Egypt. Ancient pyramids, now half-buried in scarred sand, marked locations that matched his internal knowledge. The confirmation sent a quiet thrill through him—they were indeed in the territory of the former African nation, with Vavilon built upon the ruins of what was once Cairo.
"What's so interesting?" Eva peered over his shoulder, her breath warm against his ear.
"Maps," Andrew replied, deliberately simplifying his fascination. "Big river runs through city."
"The Nile," Eva nodded. "It gives us life. Without it, there would be no Vavilon."
Andrew absorbed her words alongside the text's clinical description of the nuclear devastation that had reshaped the continent. The official Matriarchy curriculum described what they called "The Final War"—a devastating global conflict that had occurred nearly few million years earlier. Nuclear exchanges had ravaged major population centers, altered weather patterns, and triggered catastrophic environmental collapse.
In the aftermath, humanity's carefully constructed civilization had crumbled. The textbook's clinical tone couldn't disguise the horror of those years—billions dead, ecosystems destroyed, and infrastructure reduced to radioactive rubble. Most devastating was the aftermath effect on human fertility, particularly among males.
"Why so few boys?" Andrew asked one evening, strategically phrasing the question with childlike simplicity.
Eva's face tightened. "The radiation from the old wars poisoned men's seed. That's why you're so special, my son. That's why the Matriarchy watches over boys so carefully."
The textbooks confirmed her explanation, though with greater scientific detail. Male fertility had plummeted to near-extinction levels. The Matriarchy had emerged from necessity—organizing around the protection of fertile females and the precious few viable males. What began as survival committees had evolved into the only functioning government in what remained of human civilization.
The material shortage explained much about their daily life. The textbooks described how Earth's accessible precious metals and rare minerals had been largely extracted before the war. Without these essential components, rebuilding advanced technology proved impossible. Humanity had been forced backward technologically, cobbling together a hybrid existence using salvaged pre-war equipment and more primitive methods.
Most alarming were the passages about the mutated creatures. The texts called them "Aberrations or abominations"—animals and insects transformed by radiation into larger, more aggressive forms. These beasts had flourished in the devastated environment while humanity retreated to fortified enclaves like Vavilon.
"Stay inside the walls," Eva repeatedly warned. "The guards protect us from what lives in the wasteland."
Andrew found references to periodic Aberration attacks on outlying Matriarchy settlements. The defensive bulletin described mantis-like insects large enough to carry off livestock and packs of hybrids that combined the worst features of wolves and reptiles.
Late one night, Andrew discovered a hidden appendix in his geography text. It contained detailed information about Vavilon specifically—its population of approximately 489,000, its strategic importance as one of the largest remaining human settlements, and its unique defensive advantages.
The city exploited natural barriers, with the Nile's altered course providing protection on two sides. Ancient structures had been repurposed into watchtowers, their height offering early warning against Aberration approaches. Most crucially, Vavilon controlled the region's largest remaining arable land, providing precious food security in a world of scarcity.
"Andrew, time for sleep," Eva called, interrupting his studies.
He closed the book carefully, his mind cataloging everything he'd learned. Knowledge was power, and in this broken world, he would need every advantage.
Between his second and third year, Andrew settled into a comfortable rhythm of existence. His days filled with books, learning, and the quiet observation of the sisters who raised him. The improved rations meant his physical development progressed normally—his body growing stronger, his coordination improving—though his mind remained light-years ahead of his physical form.
Their new apartment offered more space but maintained certain intimate familiarities. Despite the additional room, Eva and Amara continued sharing the same bed—a habit born from years of necessity that neither sister seemed inclined to change. Andrew remained with them each night, his small body nestled between their warmth.
"We could set up a separate sleeping area for him now," Amara suggested once, folding fresh laundry beside the large mattress that dominated their bedroom.
Eva shook her head. "He's still so young. And the nights get cold."
Andrew said nothing, recognizing the security Eva found in keeping him close. The arrangement provided him valuable insights into their personalities and relationships. The sisters spoke freely in the darkness, assuming his sleeping form couldn't comprehend their adult conversations about Matriarchy politics, neighborhood gossip, and occasional whispered hopes for the future.
The sisters maintained the casual nudity common in their culture's domestic settings. Water remained precious even with their improved status, and clothing an unnecessary barrier within private spaces. Andrew cataloged these cultural norms dispassionately, adapting to their naked forms as simply another aspect of this world's reality.
Eva moved with unconscious grace, her body strong from years of physical labor. She covered herself when guests visited but thought nothing of walking unclothed between washing and dressing. Amara, by contrast, displayed a deliberate awareness of her body's effect.
"You're staring again, little man," Amara would tease, catching Andrew's eyes following her movements. She'd stretch languorously or bend unnecessarily, exposing herself with calculated casualness that contrasted sharply with Eva's practical nakedness.
Andrew recognized the pattern forming. When Eva stepped out for market visits or Matriarchy meetings, Amara's behavior shifted subtly. She'd sit with her legs carelessly splayed while reading reports, or call him to help with some trivial task that required her to lean forward provocatively.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked once, catching his gaze lingering on her body.
"Yes," Andrew answered honestly, maintaining his childlike demeanor while inwardly assessing her.
He filed these observations away, neither encouraging nor rejecting her attention. His physical limitations rendered the situation ultimately meaningless beyond its psychological implications. At not yet three, his body couldn't respond meaningfully to her provocations even if he wished it to.
Matriarchy educational materials focused on practical knowledge—agriculture, basic medicine, engineering principles—alongside carefully curated history. Nothing addressed the complex interpersonal dynamics he witnessed daily.
Eva remained oblivious to her sister's behavior, her focus divided between her work assignments and Andrew's development. She tracked his progress with meticulous pride, recording new words and concepts in a small journal provided by the Matriarchy assessors.
"He's reading at primary level already," she announced one evening, her voice warm with satisfaction as Andrew demonstrated his skills.
"Remarkable," Amara agreed, though her eyes held calculations Andrew couldn't fully decipher.
He continued his careful performance—exceptional but not impossible, advanced but still recognizably childlike. The balance required constant vigilance. Show too much ability, and he risked becoming something other than a child to them—perhaps a resource to be exploited. Show too little, and the privileges that protected them might vanish.
So Andrew read his books, ate his meals, and navigated the increasingly complex dynamics of his small family unit. His physical development proceeded at normal human pace, while his mind worked ceaselessly, gathering information, forming strategies, and waiting for the moment when understanding might transform into action.