Even after a vapid morning of regularly scheduled responsibilities, I can't wipe the glow from around my heart.
Dean meets me at the entrance of Level 6. Side by side, we head back to work with customary militia glowers in place. But on the inside, I'm radioactive.
I plop myself down at my solitary table and begin the drudgery of inventory plans. I must focus—one wrong move on my part, and I'm sure everyone in my care will end up dying of scurvy.
A blaring notification from my PAHLM flings me out of my haze. It's the HHP with the same message as the week before. It's time to make sure there's something growing in there. I flick off a piece of lint on the flat expanse of my shirt below my breasts. This has to be it—there has to be something in there besides breakfast and butterflies. Dean pauses his work and peers over at me. I nod at him. He reciprocates and then returns his gaze to the projected plans on his ARC9 monitor.
"Good luck this time," Hayomo whispers behind me as she passes. I'm shocked right through to my core when I realize she's near me. The woman is a stealth machine.
I return to my monitor and examine the plans.
"Thirty-two designated stations in five years," I murmur to myself as no one else is around to hear my plans. "Easy enough. I do inventory for the Sink. How much more difficult can it be for that junk pile?"
YOU ARE READING
ARC10
Science Fiction[Book 1 of the ARC10 Trilogy] **Winner of the 2017 Watty Storysmith award** The President created an underground safe-haven for the survivors of the alien invasion. He built it to save them all from total annihilation. He protects them, feeds them...
