Selective Breeding | EDITING

Part 40

A flutter.

The first sign of the little ones Ruma was carrying moving about.

That is all it took to bring Ruma from bouncing around into a mental breakdown.

Deon sat on the outside of the bathroom door. With his back pressed up against it. Ratok was out and the only one he knew who could open the door, even when Ruma had it locked.

Ruma lay on the floor as close to the door as possible. She could hear him occasionally checking in, asking her to tell him what was wrong. In truth, she didn't even know what was wrong. In the past, she had enjoyed this part.

She felt locked in her body, stripped from her ability to move. She was forcing herself to reach her hand up and grab the handle. It unlocked. Though it didn't open, Deon must have heard the noise on the other side as he pulled it open.

"Ruma," he was down at her side in seconds, hoisting her up and running her to her table; he sat her down in one of the seats. He was kneeling next to her and waiting for something to be said.

It took her a while to pull herself together to explain what happened, so she found her words. Deon found the pad where she could get food from the kitchen bots and ordered a few small items he knew he had seen her eat before and her favourite indulging item.

"We ready to talk? You know you don't have to." He sat back down in his spot.

She nodded a yes, then tried her best to explain. However, she didn't even know why it bothered her.

When she finished explaining the panic over feeling the flutter, Deon stroked her cheek with his thumb, then kissed softly on the same spot. "It's alright. I don't know how to help you with this; I am sorry. Is there anything you want or need? Like talk about it, or go for a walk?"

"Walk" Ruma leaned her head into Deon's hand before they both stood to escape the room.

Ruma locked her arm around Deon's and laced her fingers in his as they moved through the compound. He was letting her lead the way on where they went. They circled the outer edge once and then headed in to one of the Quads.

"What are we doing at this one?" he asked curiously. Ruma didn't quite give him an answer, follow me.

She unlocked the door and headed in, but instead of going up to observe or straight ahead to the pads and systems, she went down a set of stairs. Deon had these in the few he had gone in with Ratok but never asked where those lead, as his assumption was into the Quadrant.

Deon followed quickly after Ruma. Once he descended the steps, he saw her sitting next to a glass panelling.

Ruma had her face pressed against the glass, searching for something, the glass looked into one of the sectors of the quadrant. She sat there for a while, looking for someone particular. Once she did, Rua perked up and waved Deon over.

He came up and peered in too.

"Who am I looking at?" he asked.

Ruma pointed to a boy, well, a better word for him, man. His age was unknown, but he had quite voluminous hair with strikingly familiar curls. He moved particularly differently from the rest in that sector, as he was mostly travelling along as a quadruped, then occasionally standing on his back leg.

He looked well-fed, as well as much more lively and less traumatized as the people in Quad 86 had. Deon started to wonder which number this one was.

They watched him for a while; Ruma's expression slowly faded from excited to sombre as they watched. As she started tugging at her hair, twisting it about.

It wasn't long before Ruma touched the glass, giving a low, long whine. She stood and grabbed Deon, giving him the head nod of Come on, lets go.

They got out as quickly as they went, heading further into the compound; Ruma had them heading to the main ground of buildings, in which most were of lab varieties. There was a bit of shouting going on as they turned a corner.

Standing in a long line were other humans; they looked a bit different than how he came in; they all wore the same cream cloth, and large Elizabethan-styled collars, With large text that he didn't recognize.

"What's going on?"

Ruma tilted her head to analyze. "They are doing a trade-off,"

"Whose they?" Deon said inequitably.

"Vassenhili, and however, own those lines of slave." Ruma let go of his hand, dropped to all fours hopped forward a bit; she didn't see Vassenhilo or they other slave owner. She looked back at ad gave Deon the shrug look.

She came back and stood again, wrapping his arm up again.

"Why aren't you in the middle of that like you normally are?" He asked.

"They are previously owned or born into something; their genetics have all been tested and recorded for Vassenhilo, I am only there on the new comers like yourself. I have a sense of smell that can pick up on things most humans wouldn't."

"Is that why you like my fresh dirt smell so much?"

She giggled.

"Ah that was a yes. Now anywhere else?"

Ruma nodded and lead the way.