Chapter 39 #2
“I don’t know, but there had to be a good reason.
” Tears fall freely down her cheeks as she attempts password after password with trembling hands until she gets his device locked.
Now only a retina scan will open it. “Fuck,” she says, tossing it on the bed.
Zephyr, that made her feel a little better.
She messages Oro1, but he replies that he doesn’t know of any plan.
“Maybe it is something to do with Sable?”
Did Sable get caught and then reveal his identity to the authorities to get out of trouble? Did they come get him, or did he turn himself in voluntarily? It doesn’t matter—because they have him!
Oh Zorg, they’re going to kill him. She knows.
She knows, and she has to do something. The non-deities can’t be cruel enough to give him to her only to take him away, can they?
Her stomach tumbles. She’s going to be sick.
She rushes to his bathroom, heaving over the toilet, but nothing comes out.
Still, her body makes a grand effort at going through the motions.
Salivating and surging until fresh tears leak from her eyes.
K8 wipes them as an idea strikes her. Surely they haven’t decommissioned him yet.
According to her research, they put them in batches and decommission them in groups.
He’d be at the end of the line, so there’s still time.
If he turned himself in, there would be no retina scan from her authorizing his decommissioning, like they made Lessa do when they turned Yansy in.
Technically, K8 still owns him until the legal contract period is over.
She can get him back and make a substantial payment.
And now, now she has something of value. Something huge.
K8 rushes to her workstation and logs in.
As she works, every minute that ticks by feels as if the walls of her unit are inching closer, ready to sandwich her between them.
Ready to crush her. She takes entirely too long to find a BLACKOUT site that will accept her merchandise.
And too long to write and place the listing.
Lessa comes to stand behind her. “K8, what are you doing?”
She grins, finally feeling some control amidst the panic. “I won the birthing lottery, but I’m going to sell it.”
“But isn’t that what you always wanted?!” Lessa asks.
K8 shakes her head. “No, companionship is what I always wanted, and now that I have even more than that, I’m not letting it go.”
“Which means?” Lessa leans down to read K8’s listing. “You’re selling your chance to have a baby?! You can do that?”
“Yes,” she says resolutely.
Over the last few weeks, K8 has spent time observing.
That’s what scientists do. In addition to the PalmPrints they invented, they’ve been working on these little fleshy rubber fingertip pads that held a small sample of blood.
They sounded risky to her when James told her about them, but now she sees their benefit.
She adds the use of them to her description along with as much of her blood as they’ll require for the check-ups.
All nine months’ worth. She adds a few helpful suggestions, like always seeing a different Birthing Agency physician, even venturing to different quadrants, and scheduling appointments during the busiest times of the day.
When she’s confident her listing is perfect and covers any potential pitfalls, she publishes it.
Three months ago, she never would have imagined herself in this position.
Never could have imagined herself giving up something so monumental.
A baby or James. After she had time to process her reaction to Lessa’s news, she realized she hasn’t been entirely honest with herself about her desire to win the Birthing Agency lottery.
Especially after all the baby fun she’s been having with Lessa.
The opportunity to bring a child into the world would be almost as beautiful as what she’s found with James.
Behind her, Lessa paces. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I think it might be too late. Then you’ll be left with nothing.”
The thought gives her pause, but only for a moment. A baby would be . . . amazing, she finally admits to herself. But James’s life is at stake.
“Don’t worry, Les. It’s not too late. As soon as this sells, I’m going to GROW and I’m going to get him back.”
Despite the massive shift brought about by that realization, she finds her decision surprisingly easy.
With the price she’s set, they’ll be able to afford two full years of James’s lease, which should be long enough to make them overlook her flagged account as Lessa suggested.
And surely there’s someone out there with the unicoin who wants to have a baby bad enough it will sell quickly.
She thinks of the woman who invented the hangover chewable.
Someone like that could easily afford it.
She only needs it to happen in time to get him back.
The clock at the bottom of her screen reads 09:21. Time creeps by like smog-heavy clouds. Lessa pulls up a side table to sit on, seeming determined to show their solidarity.
K8 sits for ten minutes, staring daggers into the screen, internally screaming, SELL—SELL—SELL, as Lessa watches on. Finally, a notification message pops up.
SOLD!