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Ican’t remember the last time I had a full belly. It must have been when my father was still alive.
Even though I’m not hungry, I try to force myself to finish what’s left on my plate, because in a world as decimated as ours, waste is a sin.
After collapsing on the road, we were taken to a facility where I was nursed back to health. I was told I slept for days, and I have no reason to believe otherwise.
I panicked when I woke, fighting the people that tried to speak to me, but as they tended to my needs, I grew compliant. In my defense, I was starving, with very little energy.
They poked and prodded me, asking all kinds of questions. I told them I wanted to see my brother and sister, but they said not to worry about them. That they were getting examined and would be well cared for.
Two days have gone by, and I still haven’t been allowed to see them. A part of me is furious, but I’m also thankful, because if it weren’t for these people, we’d be dead. I was knocking on death’s door, and my siblings wouldn’t have been able to take care of themselves.
And, if I’m being truthful, a small part of me is relieved I don’t have to carry the burden of their care.
The door swings open and a woman in a white lab coat enters the room. I straighten in my seat, my spine turning to steel.
“My name is Stephanie. Some people call me doctor, but you’re welcome to call me Steph.” She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her button nose and forces a nervous smile to her lips.
When I don’t reply, she continues with, “Are you full?”
As much as I’d like to say yes, wasting food causes me more pain than an overly full belly. “I’m still working on it.”
“Whatever’s left over, we can feed to the chickens,” she offers.
I look down at the scrambled eggs, determined now more than ever to eat them because I don’t want to be contributing to forced cannibalism.
Stephanie takes a seat across the table from me, exhaling an exhausted breath as she sets down the file she’d been carrying. I can’t help but study her features, wondering how old she is. Probably thirty? Maybe younger.
She’s pretty, though her long blonde hair is thrown up in a disheveled ponytail. If I had to guess, I’d say she didn’t get much sleep.
“Your name is Lyra, right?”
I nod.
“Your brother and sister keep asking about you.”
“Then let me see them!” I snap, unable to control my frustration. “It’s been days since I arrived here, and there’s always an excuse.”
The corners of Steph’s mouth downticks into a frown. “I’m afraid that’s not up to me.”
“What do you and your people want from me?”
“We want to feed and keep you healthy. Is that so bad?”
“I’m not stupid enough to believe you’re doing it out of the goodness of your heart.”
“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean our reasons have to be devious.”
“What are your reasons?”
“If you haven’t noticed, Lyra, humanity is dying.”
“I’ve been told as much.”
“And you’re special.”
I snort out a laugh. “Are you trying to get me to sign on to be a human guinea pig or something?”
“I work for a group called the Venus Quarantine Initiative, and their sole purpose is to secure the future of mankind.”
