As she was still recuperating, the Man with the Mustache sauntered up to the Girl’s resting form. “Am I to take it that you want nothing to do with your baby?”
“That’s right.” Why was this guy bugging her? She clearly needed the rest.
“Well, this is problematic. Our system of acquiring crossbreeds is a national secret and demands utmost confidence. We can’t allow anyone to pass on this knowledge without permission.”
“Don’t worry. I can keep a secret. Who am I going to tell?”
“We can’t take that chance. To ensure your safety and ours, we demand the production of a CrossBreed Human/ONE infant.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be a problem. You’ve already got one.”
“No we don’t. You already absolved all responsibility of ownership entirely.”
“What - you - you can’t do that!”
“Recall that I gave you every opportunity. Now that you’ve passed that up, you’ll have to endure the birthing process all over again.”
It figured. They’d taken everything they wanted from her, and still wanted more. Why should she have expected anything different? And to further add insult to injury, her trip to the City of Lies could’ve been completely avoided. The results would’ve been the same if she’d just stayed at home.
“So, it was all for nothing??”
“It wasn’t entirely useless. We’ve gathered some valuable intel. We now know that defunct sperm can help transfer ONEs genes over to an unwilling host. Now, I’ve been going over your records, and... is that your name?”
“I’m not married to it.”
Just then, the Man with the Mustache made an odd choking sound, bending over. At first, she though he was having an epileptic fit until she registered the sound as laughter.
“Glad to see you find my name so funny!”
“Sorry”, he said, wiping a tear away from his eye. “It’s just that it’s rather ironic. You see, my name is Warren.”
She stared uncomprehending at him. “I don’t get it.”
“Hmm. Must’ve been before your time. Anyways, you may have passed up ownership of your baby, but there are still options available for you. You meet the minimum requirements for being a Babymaker.”
“I don’t know if I’m qualified for something like that.”
“You have just the kind of qualities we’re looking for! An average education, travelling experience, seeing ONEs without your head exploding, working organs. And furthermore...”
Don’t say it, don’t say it...
“...you’ve got excellent references!”
He said it! She didn’t want her experience working in the City to be a reason for getting pregnant all over again!
“Don’t be so quick to refuse. This is a job offer with great opportunities. You’ll have certain company benefits, a residence close to work, paid vacation times, and the company of people with similar interests. Furthermore, you’ll have the opportunity to work with numerous ONEs and all the pleasures that inquire.
The Girl was about to protest, when she figured that this would be her chance to have multiple sordid carnations with ONEs until she produced an infant. She didn’t care who or what she had carnal relations with, just so long as she got some well-deserved long-wanted release. This time she’d be able to enjoy herself. This time she’d be able to do it right.
The Man with the Mustache rested a dense form near her bedside. “If at any time you change your mind, sign your name on the bottom of this page.”
The Girl held the pen between her stubby fingers, made difficult to handle due to the IV tube inserted in her hand, and through gritted teeth, scrawled out one letter at a time in large font overlapping the boundaries of the form. When she finished, the completed totality of the barely legible scrawl read out;
P E A S E
It was just nine months past her 16th Birthday, and she’d already learned more about the world than she ever wanted to know.
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