Touch: Awakening

Part Nine

Parker doesn't show for lecture on Monday. I scan the hall, searching for her familiar blond head, and don't see it by the time Professor Salazar moves behind the lectern. The students are buzzy today, not interested in the tenets of English literature, and Salazar has a difficult time holding their attention. Or maybe it's me, having a hard time focusing.

She's not in our office after class, either. Resisting the urge to race to the portal and ping her, I meet with a couple of students, spend an hour in the library, and then head for the Arts administration office and my appointment with the department head.

George is a nice enough guy, I guess. A bit on the portly side. He reminds me of the grandfatherly types in the movies Bee drags us to, the one who always gives the hero sage advice. We've always gotten along, and he's always willing to listen to your full argument before making a decision. I hope he'll understand my reasons for what I'm about to request.

He smiles as I let myself into his office. "Alexis. How are you?"

"Well enough, I guess. Gearing up for finals." They start next week, and already I've got a couple dozen essays to read through. "Thanks for meeting with me."

He gestures to the chair beside his desk, and I sit. "Of course. How can I help you?"

Twisting my fingers together, I run through my argument one more time before opening my mouth. "I'd like to apply for a waiver."

The man doesn't flinch. He doesn't blink, or frown, or demand I reconsider. He simply nods and settles back in his chair. "Have you completed the application?"

"I have. I filed it last night." The confirmation I received stated my employer would receive a notice within twenty four hours.

Each business or organization is allotted a certain number of impregnation waivers. While the university ultimately has the final say, it's George, as my direct boss, who has to fill out the employer portion, since it needs to be someone I have frequent contact with. There aren't any restrictions on who can apply. The requirements for being granted one are pretty stringent, though, and most women are turned down. The Government wants all members of society to be productive and useful. Furthering the human race is pretty much the most useful thing a woman can do. Unfortunately.

"And your arguments?" George reaches out and taps a few keys on at datpad.

"I'm concerned about the memory wipe performed once the extraction is complete. I know it's as delicate as they can make it, and there are improvements every day, but since my job is to impart knowledge, I can't afford the risk of losing even a single fact. I feel I'm doing my part already to be productive and useful, and that continuing to educate future citizens is the most effective use of my skills. I understand that technology and science have made huge gains since the procedure was developed, and it may be a few years down the road the wipe has improved enough that worrying about knowledge loss is a moot point. I'm just not comfortable at this juncture taking part in something that's still considered in the experimental stages." Something that doesn't have a best practices after over a century of use doesn't exactly inspire confidence. Not to mention the whole violation and lack of free will aspect.

"I believe there are other candidates who are better suited for this than I am. I've also been known to suffer from insomnia, and they want their vessels healthy. I've heard pregnancy can make insomnia worse, and I don't think suffering through nine months of sleeplessness is something the Government would be willing to put me through."

George continues to take notes, and I sit quietly, pressing my fingers together in an effort to remain calm, when what I really want to do is grab him by the shoulders and shake him, hard, and beg him to put his stamp on my application.