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“Follicle stimulating hormone count is nice and low,” says a man’s booming voice.
“Of course it is, Charles,” cackles an older woman. “They’re only twenty-five!”
“I didn’t say I was surprised, Janine. Just impressed.”
“You’ll have to pay a pretty penny for it,” the woman says, and I open my eyes again, wondering what they’re talking about.
“The one on the left has the HIV resistant gene,” someone mutters.
“Those eyes, Those beautiful 20/20s.”
“Hey – I call shotgun on the endothelial cells,” a man hisses, leading to laughter among a group somewhere.
I blink.
I blink again.
An announcer taps a microphone, and I hear him say, “Finish your research and your dinners, everyone. Staff will fill drinks, and we’ll get started. Dessert after. Let us save the sweets for our sweet victories.”
“And to help mollify the losers!” a man calls out. Raucous laughter follows.
“All examinations have been done. Medical files released. Now it’s all over except the bidding,” the announcer declares as my spine, from the crack of my backside up to the crown of my head, turns to a single electric current instantly.
Medical files.
Eyes.
Kidneys.
Bidding.
“Mmmmph,” I moan, trying to sit up, fighting a wave of nausea. If I move too much, I’ll vomit, and if I vomit, I’ll choke to death.
Though I don’t think these people will let that happen.
And not out of a sense of altruism.
These are the billionaires Cam talked about. My masters. The ones who invented a fake prophecy to convince parents to turn their daughters over to the cause.
Stretching my eyes wide, I work hard to focus. Each breath gets me closer to clarity. Rising panic does not help me, so I push it down, down, down.
“Dialysis three times a day, Janine,” a woman says in a complaining voice. “We have the home clinic, of course, and a nurse comes on the jet, but it’s all so tiresome.”
“I cannot believe the donation lists are merit-based,” her friend says with a sneer. “They give kidneys to just anyone.”
“It’s not our fault, is it? They gave us no options. I’m so grateful to Gaia for creating this. It’s a public service, isn’t it?”
Gaia.
Cam.
Gaia.
CAM!
Where is he?
The more I open my eyes, the more I take in. To my right is the woman who was just injected. To my left I make eye contact with a terrified woman who looks like she could be my sister, the blonde hair the same length, her body taller, longer, leaner. Scared eyes plead with me to help her, but how?
