The inspector frowns deeply. “Today’s decommissionings were called off. We sent notifications to all senior-level personnel last night.”
“I didn’t see the notice,” she lies, sighing as if the inspector’s annoying her. “I just need to complete this procedure.” Her tone is firm and even.
“GROW is under investigation for a dozen suspected violations, ma’am. Our official mandatory injunction authorizing our inspection states that all operations must cease until the recall is over and our inspection has been completed. Keep your hands where we can see them and move to the wall,” the inspector instructs.
Sable moves her hand away from the tray and Nixon twitches. Will he wake up if the second injection isn’t administered? Before he can consider the consequences, James grabs the final injection and unceremoniously sticks it into the man’s arm, depressing the plunger.
The inspector marches over. “What do you think you’re doing?”
James turns to face the man. “Leaving this manupartner between injections could cause it unnecessary suffering. The Hippocratic oath I took—”
“The what oath?” the inspector asks, becoming increasingly irritated.
“As a physician, we take oaths—”
Sable cuts in. “He’s trying to say it’s unethical. And if either of us were caught performing unethical procedures, we could have our licenses revoked.”
“Right,” James says, coming to stand beside her.
The inspector’s eyes dart between them and Nixon, then he sighs as if he has enough on his plate already. “The three of you, follow me.”
As they follow, Avrel leans over toward him. “You don’t sound like Nixon.”
His nerves are so rattled all he can think to do is lean toward her and say, “I’m in the middle of a voice transition procedure.” He has no idea if that is a real thing, but Avrel perks up.
“Oh, I’ve always hated my voice, but I didn’t know I could have it altered,” she says.
He adds in a whisper, “Almost anything is available on BLACKOUT.”
The inspectors line them up with a dozen other GROW employees. “Please remove your protection gear so we can see your faces.” Then he leaves them in the large room to do as instructed.
Are any of the other GROW employees paying enough attention to notice that he isn’t Nixon? But he has no choice. He slips off the protective gear, hoping Avrel’s voice doesn’t ring out, accusing him.
His jaw flexes as he feels the young woman lean close. She sucks in a sharp inhale, whispering, “I guess your voice isn’t the only work you’re having done. Though it appears to still be in progress,” she says, tapping her nose.
James clears his throat, wishing their conversation doesn’t draw more unwanted attention. “Full tune-up.”
“How old are you again?” Avrel asks. Is she flirting with him?
“Two hundred and ninety-eight,” he says.
“Wow,” she replies, and he notes the awe in her voice. “I guess wrinkles are inevitable, eventually. Still, I need the name of your doctor.”
Over the next hour, different inspectors come in, delivering other GROW employees.
Sable’s shoulder bumps his drawing his attention. “What’s the plan if Viper is here to identify us?” She asks the question quietly, so Avrel won’t hear.
“Run?” he suggests.
Avrel angles toward them like they’re friends now. “What do you think they’re looking for?”
“No clue,” he lies, deciding it’s best to remain friendly with her.
The three of them take a position in a row toward the back and wait. Eventually, three inspectors march back into the room, running through the lines of workers. They make sure everyone has compliantly taken off their goggles and masks. Then someone says, “This is everyone on this level. They’re ready. Show the inspectors in.”
James’s throat tightens, and beside him, Sable shifts.
They are going to catch you. You’ll be dead, and your friend who risked everything for you will get thrown in jail, the lights singsong.
