“One race, to start.”
I felt my forehead scrunch. There were all races of humans in Primo Town.
He went on. “We will control the reproduction of humans going forward. No two people of the same race will mate.”
My neck craned back and I fought to remain curious-sounding and not aghast. “You’re going to choose who makes babies together?”
“We will use artificial insemination if the pairs we choose do not wish to procreate naturally.”
Oh. My. Lord.
And just as I wondered who they’d have me mate with, I was smacked hard by the memory of my own fate. The fate this creature chose for me.
“I can’t have children,” I whispered. “I was given a shot at one of the DRI clinics before our town was rounded up. Then I was told at Dugway, when I was captive, that those shots caused infertility.”
The Senator watched me, going very still, all but his breathing, which seemed to quicken.
“I am surprised to hear that,” he said. “The orders were to give shots only to those who were socially inept, openly rebellious, or closed-minded to the idea of interracial mating. You don’t seem close-minded.”
“I’m not.”
He had the decency to look ashamed for a split second. “Well, while your eggs might have been depleted, which is a shame, your uterus should still be able to carry an embryo.”
The fire of injustice burned me from within. I tried really freaking hard not to show it. “What an honor.”
The way he stared at me, dissecting my words, I knew he wasn’t buying my syrupy sweet response.
“In the end, it will be better, Ms. Haines. I swear it will.”
How could he think that? We weren’t wired like them. To be controlled was not living. We were created to have free will and thrive by making choices and learning from them. People should love who they wanted to love, and have babies, or not, with the partner of their choice.
The door to the room opened, and children began to file in. The Senator looked crestfallen as he glanced at them and back at me, his voice earnest.
“I want to continue this conversation.”
I swallowed and nodded, though I’d be happy to never talk about it again.
“Tonight?” he asked. “Will you join me for dinner before you return to Town?”
Dinner together? My jaw went slack with surprise and I forced myself to respond. “I . . . yes. Thank you.”
“I will collect you after your lesson.”
Holy crap. All I could do was nod again, and then he left me standing there in shock with rows of Baelese children anxiously awaiting my instruction.
