Ambush

Chapter 1: The Birthing Center

I folded the pamphlets at the front desk and laid them neatly in a pile. The edges of the paper were crisp and the matte finish gave off a shimmer under the led lights of the welcome desk. The cool air from the vents above me kept the building at a chilly 64 degrees fahrenheit. I'd eaten only the peppermints from the candy bowl on the front desk all day. Today was Saturday. My family's rations ran out several days ago on Wednesday. My brothers and I had been eating little bits and pieces of things from our secret stash. We always took a stash tax from our rations for rainy days. I glanced back at the peppermint bowl, wishing I could sneak another without Zinnia seeing my gluttony. I needed something to quiet the burning in my gut. There were only 2 left, and the shift manager was due to do her evening station rounds soon. I put both my hands behind my back and looked at the floor as I approached the welcome desk.

I raised my pitch. "Pardon me, Superior Zinnia. It appears as if we are low on soothing candy. May I please refill the bowl?" I was frozen in place until addressed.

"Thank you for your respect. Please refill those." Zinnia looked back at her holoboard and continued to type. 10 seconds passed before she noticed I hadn't risen from my bow. "You may fulfill your duties." Zinnia's face blushed bright red. She seemed to have forgotten how to dismiss a subordinate. She had been my trainer when I came to the hatchery. She taught me everything I knew about how to address superiors and co-workers. She'd made sure I had the knowledge to keep my job and avoid restitution and penance from the commanders. She was 19, and had been hired at 14 when her father was drafted. Her mother had died in childbirth at home before the hatcheries were made. We were used to being friends until her promotion entitled and required her to speak down to me. I had no hard feelings toward her because if I had the opportunity to get a raise, I'd take it.

The walls in the hatchery were painted light celadon green. The floors lit up at every step I took and mimicked my footprints. I turned down the hallway to the left and everything turned pink, an order to be quiet. That meant a mother had passed away in childbirth. I peered through the corner of my eye at the family behind the window. Sometimes the hospitals had medicine shortages and lots of mothers passed away over a few months. I'd always suspected something more was happening to them, but when I tried to walk by the windows, the officers had them frosted out for privacy. Some mothers with birthing permits opted to pay an extra couple thousand Melits to have the windows frosted, just enough to not make out the details. Passersby could still see colors and movement, but it was impossible to make out faces or what exactly was happening. In the next window, a mother was holding her baby and the father wrapped his arms around her and the baby from behind. An older woman with silver hair spiked in every direction pointed a camera at them. Photos for posterity, I guess. The window to the right of me contained only a woman and a team of doctors. The woman was unconscious. Dried blood had been smeared on her temple, and the rest of her face was smashed in. The doctors were in hazmat suits covered in bodily fluids up to their elbows. They were afraid they'd get sick from the baby. The large TV played a game show. The people were slipping around in chocolate syrup and bikinis and laughing. Those shows were meaningless but for some reason it rubbed me the wrong way to see the doctors watching them during surgery. The doctor in the middle held a newborn and placed him in the chute in the corner of the room. It was like a laundry hamper. I shut my eyes tightly and picked up the pace. The supply closet was just around the corner. I made a point to stare at the floor until I reached the end of the hallway. Wails could be heard down the hallway. Gasps of pain, tears of joy, and the screechings of mothers forced to hand off their babies. I didn't know where the white chute led. There was no way to see it, but I knew the babies never came back. They were tossed into oblivion for someone to retrieve and do who knows what with.

I brought the peppermints back and refilled the bowl, not daring to stash any in my pockets before nightly round checks. The led clock on the welcome desk read 19:13. My shift should've ended promptly at 15:00, but another one of the front desk girls had, in the words of the shift manager, "denied her responsibilities," and decided to stay home when her temperature reached 103 degrees. She came by the hatchery to let them know, threw up, then fell to the floor doubled in pain. She cleaned up the vomit and walked home. My shift started at 4:00, and I was on the verge of being asked to work a full 24-hour shift. I put the bag of extra peppermints under the desk and resealed the bag. With my stomach empty and knives in my feet, I started the evening chores. Everything from the floors to the ceilings were pristine. The shift manager, Gaia, made her way to our station. She was tall and slender, a rarity in our state. No one ever had enough to eat, resulting in smaller statures. She'd grown up here but had been accustomed to the treatment of a superior. Sometimes she forgot how hungry and tired her subordinates were. She was rich by my standards, and I doubted she'd gone without since her promotion several years back.