Chapter 4 - Inventory of Mothers
The voice beneath the floor sounded like ours, but there was something exhausted about it.
"Who are you?" I called.
"They call me Wren. Don't come down until you know why."
The vent went quiet.
Iris stared at the locator. "Three of us. That's what the heartbeat alert means."
My father shook his head. "I didn't know a third child had survived."
"Then who did?" I demanded.
A woman's voice answered from the overhead speakers. "I did."
Dr. Helena Rusk appeared on a wall screen. Silver hair, perfectly pressed suit, calm smile. I recognized her from the front page of the Veridian Biologics website. Her company sold therapies to people who could afford private islands.
"Welcome home, Clara."
"This isn't my home."
"Your mother was remarkably resistant to cellular damage. We believed her biological line could help millions. We were wrong about how expensive that help would be."
My father stepped between me and the screen. "Shut it down, Helena."
"You signed the first authorization, Elias. Remember?"
I looked at him. He didn't deny it.
Rusk pointed toward the tanks. "Twenty-six living subjects. Every one the product of twenty-two years of research. They're not Miriam, but they can produce the tissue my clients need."
One woman inside the glass raised a hand toward us. A number was printed on her wristband. Not a name.
"You mean you're harvesting them," Iris said.
Rusk's smile vanished. "I'm keeping the program alive."
Iris pulled a maintenance key from her pocket and opened a cabinet. Inside were bottled nutrients, tubing, and a laminated evacuation map. At the bottom, someone had written, in trembling black marker: I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER.
I understood why.
The woman behind the nearest pane was awake, watching us, and silently mouthing the same words.
Then an alarm sounded. The display beside her tank changed from CARE to TRANSFER.
May you like
Destination: OFFSHORE TRANSPORT, 06:00.
And the time on the wall clock was 5:41.
