You’d think humanity would treat its most important assets with more respect.
When I got tired of staring the man down, I moved past him, my head held high despite my churning stomach. It was only then that I realized the soldier standing just beyond the checkpoint had been watching the exchange, and that he was smirking in amusement. The smile was small, but big enough that the dimple in his left cheek was visible, and the twinkle in his dark brown eyes emphasized it even more. He was maybe a year or two older than me, and Hispanic, and cute despite his slightly crooked nose and closely cropped dark hair, with a square jaw and broad build. But he worked for the Department of Fertility, which meant that even if I was looking for love, I wouldn’t want anything to do with this guy.
I ignored him while I waited for the elevator and ended up alone when it finally arrived. Much to my relief since I wasn’t interested in having another interaction like the one I’d had the last time I was here.
The much too cheery elevator Muzak taunted me on the ride up, and I gnawed on my nails, not even registering I was doing it at first and then getting annoyed with myself when I realized I’d bitten several nails until my fingertips were raw. It was something I’d done as a kid whenever things got overwhelming and had gotten so bad that by the time I graduated high school, my thumbs had been bloody. I’d worked so hard to break the habit, but of course it would rear its ugly head at the first sign of major stress. By the time my stint in the program was over, I’d probably have bloody stumps instead of fingers.
The elevator came to a stop and a ding sounded. I spit out the sliver of nail I’d just gnawed off and replaced my mask just asthe doors slid open, revealing the blue walls of the waiting room. Despite the soothing décor, hint of lavender in the air, and soft music, I had to force myself to take a step forward. They could dress the room up however they liked, but it would never feel welcoming to me.
One step out of the elevator, I froze to prepare myself.
I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to have to do this. It was wrong. This was my body.Mine. How could the government justify using it without my consent? They shouldn’t have been able to. And yet they could, and I was powerless to stop it.
“Miss?”
The chipper voice made me jump, and I spun to find Department of Fertility Barbie staring at me expectantly. Her fake blonde hair was up today, piled on top of her head in an artfully messy bun, and her makeup, although still thick, was more subdued. She was prettier than I’d realized the first time I was here. High cheekbones and big, bright eyes, and an oval face that softened her looks even with all the makeup she wore. I must have been too distracted by the façade before to see the real person beneath.
I forced myself to walk. “Arabella Murphy.” The words nearly stuck in my throat, so I swallowed and tried again. “Ara.”
Department of Fertility Barbie smiled brightly. “Of course! Our brand-new patient!” She waved to the waiting room, beaming. “I’ll let Hilary know you’re here.”
“Thanks.”
I lowered myself onto the edge of an overstuffed chair, not wanting to get too comfortable, and folded my hands in my lap like the position would hide how nervous – and hungover – I was. It was ridiculous since I was both trembling and sweating, but I couldn’t force myself to relax because I was too busy thinking about what would happen next. I’d read through all the information I’d been given and knew they wouldn’t inseminate me today. No, they had to wait. Had to track my cycle and temperature and choose the optimal day. But when would that be? My period had been ten days ago, on my birthday, and while I wasn’t an expert on fertility,a quick Internet search had told me that ovulation would occur twelve to fourteen days before my next one. My cycles were like clockwork, coming every twenty-eight days, which meant I might be ready for my first insemination in just a couple days. Would they do it that soon? It seemed so fast. Then again, it wasn’t like they hadn’t done a bunch of tests already. I’d had bloodwork and ultrasounds and all kinds of stuff, meaning they knew my body better than I did at this point. It was possible they’d be ready for me in just two days.
ButIwasn’t ready. Not by a long shot.
I clenched my fists when I began to tremble, willing myself to stay in control. This was too fast. If only there was some way to put this off.
Ten
Iwas so consumed by my thoughts that when the frosted glass door on the other side of the waiting room opened, I jumped and let out a small yelp that I prayed had been too quiet for anyone to hear. The last thing I wanted was for these people to know how much they were getting to me.
“Ara?” Hilary called, her voice as cheerful as it had been at the beginning of our first meeting.
She was dressed nearly identical as the first time I was here, wearing a professional yet not overly businesslike gray pencil skirt and white blouse, and her smile was warm and open. It did little to calm me, and when I stood on shaky legs, I had to pause, afraid I would crumple to the ground if I took even a tiny step.
When I didn’t move, Hilary’s smile faltered, and she looked me up and down, her gaze stopping on my face. “Are you feeling poorly?”
I shook my head, confused even though I realized how strange it must have seemed that I was frozen in place. “What?”
“The mask.” She waved toward me. “You weren’t wearing one last time, and you seem… Off. Is everything okay?”
Mask? My hand went to my face automatically, and feeling the thin paper, I recalled putting the thing on. Of course, Hilary would think I was wearing it because I was sick. Only an idiot would come here a few drinks in then try to cover it with a mask. And what if I was sick? Would an illness be enough to postponethis whole thing? Maybe. Then again, Hilary might want a doctor to examine me, which would draw even more attention to how much I’d had to drink last night. And this morning. That would be a bad idea.
“No, I’m okay.” I cleared my throat when the words came out gravelly. “Just nervous.”
Not looking all that convinced, Hilary nodded, her gaze intent on mine. I held my breath, waiting to see if she would ask more questions since she clearly didn’t believe me.
After a second, though, her smile returned and she said, “No need to be nervous. The Department of Fertility’s goal is to not only make sure the human race survives, but also to make certain this process is as easy on you as possible. All you have to do is follow the program to the T and you’ll be set!”
Her smile was as bright as the sun when she finished talking, and even though I was wearing a mask, I felt compelled to return it. I doubted it reached my eyes, which meant the effort was a waste. It was also clear by the tight set of Hilary’s jaw that she’d expected more from me. Oh, well. I wasn’t a performing monkey, and I wasn’t going to pretend I was happy about this when I wasn’t.
She flipped her red locks over her shoulder and moved aside, the door propped against her hip as she waved for me to step into the hall. “If you’ll come this way, we can get started.”
I obeyed, although not quickly, and didn’t miss the click of her tongue that signified her impatience.
I stepped to the side once I’d crossed the threshold, waiting for Hilary to lead the way. She followed me in, and the door swished shut as she headed off, motioning for me to follow with a quick flick of her hand.
