If anyone finds out what I’m doing, I might be in huge trouble.
I mean, technically I’m not doing anything I’m not supposed to be doing. The tanks are mine to use as I saw fit, and I’ve done well over the last seven years on my own. Most of mine produce twins, and even the oldest among us in Firebird are realizing that the tank system works. Still a little odd to those who grew up Outside, but they’ve known about this since they were chosen and one would think that after thirty years…
Yeah, rule number one of Firebird – don’t assume anyone will do the logical thing. Ever. Especially if other humans are involved.
Or not-humans, as some of them still think I am.
I guess I’m human in all the ways that count. Just born with a few tiny defects – no pinkies and a strange birthmark across my back. And I’m pretty sure those wouldn’t be an issue Outside, but around here it’s just weird enough to get attention. Throw in the fact that I was the first tank-born and it’s enough to create social isolation the likes of which haven’t been experienced by anyone else here, and at last count we had five hundred bodies running around this place.
I mean, there are still adults who think I should’ve been cancelled and tell me as much. People suck, and most of the people here tolerate me at best.
That, in turn, is what leads me to my current decision. That and the container of genetic material currently sitting on my worktable. I just ran a sample through my system and it flagged. It’s not supposed to flag, and I should throw it out and talk at Noah about giving us something substandard next time he comes. But on the other hand, it’s a very minor flag. The kind of flag that could work perfectly for my plan.
Look, I’ve known since I was ten that the only way I’d ever have a kid – something I desperately wanted even then – would be through the tanks. Nobody here could ever want to touch me like that. And more specifically, the other half would have to be donated material – the stuff Noah brings me whenever he comes to make deals with Jas. And not just donated material either, but defective donated material, which I didn’t even know was actually possible until five minutes ago.
This could be my only chance at everything I want.
I can’t make this choice on my own, or at least I shouldn’t, so I send a flare to Min. I’m not sure she should make this choice either, but she’s what I’ve got as far as responsible actual adults who genuinely like me. She’s been the only one since Rachel died, and I trust her enough. Min Montgomery is solid, and more importantly it won’t be awkward to have her… um… help me.
Sooner than I expect, I hear a knock on the tank room door. “Come in,” I call. It’s definitely Min; no one else ever even comes down this hallway unless they need the storage freezers, and those aren’t getting stocked this time of year so-
“Everything okay?” Min asks, sticking her head in before the rest of her body follows. She seems in a good mood, or at least a mood that indicates she and Jas aren’t majorly fighting. That’s a start.
I decide to get right to the point. “Can you take a donation from me?”
Min’s big brown eyes suddenly get very wide. “Why?”
“Because this container flagged. Some sort of genetic instability, might not have been present in the donor themself. Just enough that anyone else here would be mad if I-“
“Oh.” Min softens again, a strange look on her. Some people were made for intensity, I think, and Min – forty-seven years old, several inches taller than I am, warm brown skin and a mane of curly hair to match – is definitely one of them. The only softness she possesses most of the time is the shape of her body, and sometimes I wonder if that’s somehow an illusion she puts up for her protection. Most of the time, Min is the strongest of our three primary leaders here and it shows.
Today, though… something’s off, I can feel it.
“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to hide my worry. Min helped raised me and I know she’ll see right through it, but the attempt at proper behavior is still worth a shot.
“What makes you wonder?” she counters, putting her hands on her hips. Not a good sign.
“You just seem… I dunno… too calm, maybe? Like, normally you’d be freaking out about this and-“
“No I would not,” she says evenly. “I’m surprised it took so long for this to happen is all.”
“Flagged material, you mean?” It’s the easiest option for me, the least likely to lead to disaster, the simplest and-
“That, yeah. I don’t know where Noah gets what he brings you, and I’m not going to ask as long as he uses it as a peace offering with us, but I do wonder sometimes. It’s always been good before. Suspiciously so. You know the odds aren’t always-“
“I know.” About a third of the people in Firebird can’t give material because they have a flag in some way. Phoebe, one of our other leaders, is an un-useable flag because she has a fatal allergy to shellfish – never mind that we don’t even have that here. Most of the time it’s minor stuff, but it’s not worth screwing with.
Except, of course, when the only other material at risk is my own.
“So you genuinely want to do this, Alix?”
I nod. It shouldn’t have to be a question. I’ve thought about this day for years, although it was always in hypothetical terms, never-
“There’s no way the brood will accept whatever results if they find out the origins. You know that, right? You know you’re stuck with single parenthood here?”
“I know. I can do it, Min. I’m not fragile, you know that better than anyone. I could handle a kid or two.”
“And if by some chance three survive?”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. “I’m not scared. I promise.”
“I wasn’t going to say scared, Alix. I know you’re fearless. The hand you’ve been dealt, you haven’t exactly had a choice. I just… I worry about you sometimes. I think everyone does.”
“That would require them to remember I exist. Most people don’t. You and Zoe and Jas don’t-”
“Sometimes I wonder what idiot decided to put this project out here,” Min sighs, gesturing around us. “It would’ve made sense to put the repro tanks somewhere more central, but instead-“
“It makes sense out here. Leeches energy from the freezers, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. But on the other hand means no one sees head or tail of you except when you go get food, and from what I’ve been hearing lately you barely even do that. I know it’s hard for you, but you’re not exactly-“
“I tried, Min!” I want to cry all of a sudden, and I’m not sure how long I’ll control that. “I tried and you know how well that went.”
“I know,” she murmurs. “Not your fault, Alix.”
“So you see why I have to do this,” I explain. “I never… it’s the only chance I’m ever gonna get, Min. I don’t have a family. And if I don’t do this now, I never will.”
“It’s your decision,” she sighs. “You’re taking this into your own hands, and I know you’ll handle whatever results.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“I knew I was in for an experience when I agreed to help Rachel look after you,” Min replies. “And honestly, sticking a wire up your vagina is not going to be the weirdest thing I do this week.”
With all of that established, we get ready for the donation process. It’s a little more complicated than Min described, but not by much. Really, all she has to do is stick the tracker wire inside me and then it snakes up and does the rest. It’s still slightly awkward, but again, Min’s the only person I trust to help me out.
I’ve done this to about half the women in our community. It’s only fair I learn what the other side feels like.
Once I’m naked from the waist down and situated on the table, Min puts one gloved hand on my thigh and uses the other to slip the tracker wire up inside me. She doesn’t have to do much, just hold me still as the wire climbs through my reproductive system. It feels weird but not bad, more cold than anything else, and I know the exact moment it collects because a light at the visible end turns green. Now the fun part happens. Min grabs the visible end and pulls, and even though it’s barely any pain, I scream.
“Do you want to check it?” she asks, depositing the collection end in a solution dish.
“I’ve run my blood before,” I reply. “I don’t flag. I’m safe for this.”
“You’re sure?”
“Completely.”
I deposit the solution dish in the tank, then find the flagged material and insert it in the same chamber. I put the necessary fluids in earlier, before my checks, and everything is good to go now. I push a blue button, the whirring starts, and life is created before me.
In an hour or two, my bracelet will vibrate and tell me that five viable embryos are now developing in Tank Four. In nine months, whichever of those survive the process will be born. For now, all I can do is wait.
“Did you ever want kids?” I ask Min, who’s still standing beside me with a look of wonder on her face.
“Not for a goddamned minute,” she laughs, but there’s sadness in her voice that I don’t think I’ve heard before. “I liked Jas too much. You know that.”
“Jas isn’t-“
“Jasper Cambria is a good man, or at least he can be when he wants. He is not someone I would want my hypothetical children to share blood with. Knowing my luck, they’d turn out like him and-”
“Would that really be the worst thing in the world?”
“Not the worst, but probably top-ten material.” She turns towards me, gently putting her hands on my shoulders. “But I’m not you, Alix Sinclair. Your journey is completely different than mine. For you, this here… it could save you. I hope it does.”
“Thanks, I guess?”
“You’re a strange one, Lix. Always have been. If anyone else were in this situation, I’d worry about them. But you, somehow… I’m not worried. You’ll make it work for you.”
And with that, she turns and leaves me wondering like she always does.
I’ve always wanted more, I guess. What I have here… it’s good, but I’ve never felt the way I want to. Never been wanted enough. And I guess that’s what’s led me to where I stand right now, and that scares me a little.
On the other hand, though, it makes me hopeful. In this moment, as I watch Tank Four smash eggs and sperm together and then slowly select the most viable five, I have control of my life and my future. I am taking that back, and I will be okay. I’ll be a good mother. I’ll be good. For once in my life, I’ll be good.