The Last Red

Chapter 30: The Head Office

"We should start from here," Amanda gives us a wide smile as she enters an oval edifice made up of beige stones. There are no windows on it.

"It is singularly the most exciting part of the entire City," she states enthusiastically, almost jumping a little off her feet.

I follow her inside, categorically ignoring Bradley's existence.

The space's filled with cubicles of some sort - tall oval screens hugging a seating area each are lined down the middle of the room.

"Take a seat," she invites me excitedly. "It's totally private."

I hesitantly sit in a comfortable sofa closest to us and it immediately adjusts to my body.

The tall screen lights up.

"Welcome, Gina," a figure of an African man appears on the screen in real-life size.

I am a little shocked at first, but then my eyes run to my wrist, not the one where Omnia used to live, but the other.

Now housing a new AI. 

"Hm, good connection," I scoff.

Amanda chuckles. "The best there is on Mars, that's for sure."

Huh..

"No running away from this one, is there?"

I look at Amanda who's frowning a little, as if not understanding what I meant. I may not a prisoner, but I sure am a mysterious donor.

Even though I've no idea what I'm donating.

"You can select which voice you would like the machine to use," she announces. "Albert, show us all the available Mentors."

"Mentors?" 

Amanda nods. "They guide us through everyday activities. Keep us healthy and fit."

"Alright," the man says with a teasing undertone, "but just so you know I'm the best out there."

Amanda chuckles. "He was the first one to be developed, so he's a little touchy..." she purses her nose in a sweet manner but all I can think is... she's crazy.

"Huh," I widen my eyes trying to make something resembling a faint smile.

"Hello, Gina," a gorgeous Latina woman in a red dress presents herself by swaying her long brunette hair and running her slender arms along her hourglass figure. "I'd absolutely love to be your Mentor. Let me tell you," she covers her mouth from the side, "I'm the most fun of all of them here," she winks, smiling widely.

All I can do is stare at her with my mouth open.

What's. Going. On. Here.

"Okay, Leila, thank you," Amanda nods in appreciation. "Next!"

My eyes shoot from Amanda back to the screen, now featuring a life-size Asian male.

"Ginaaaaa!" he says excitedly, almost dancing. "We're gonna have a looot of fun here, you and I! I'm Ethan, but you can call me your boy, dawg, mate, buddy..." he spins once, then clicks his fingers. "Anything you want, girl!"

I swallow hard.

"N-next."

I am presented with a beautiful older lady, her white hair tied in a neat bun, her blue eyes covered with small rectangular glasses.

I don't know how I can tell, but I just... know.

"Good morning, Gina," she says and as she does my eyes instantly fill with water and drown my cheeks in tears.

This is the single best thing that has happened to me ever since I escaped KTL.

"Om..." I cry, my hands running to the screen.

This is how I've always imagined her to look. 

Her voice makes me want to curl in this sofa and cry myself to sleep.

"Okay, thanks Omnia," Amanda steps in, but I stop her before she can do anything stupid.

"No!" I stand up defensively. 

"There's plenty more-" Amanda continues talking.

"Enough."

I look back into Omnia. 

"I choose her."

Bradley finally speaks.

"Kayla, that's not her anymore," he says. "All your previous data's erased... To her, you're just Gina, a new girl."

I clench my jaw, clutching my fist so strong I almost bleed.

"Why are you even still here?" I hiss, not even looking at him. "You should go claim your reward or something."

He says nothing.

Good.

I take a seat back into my sofa and stare at the only friendly face I've seen in ages.

"Om," I inhale deeply. "What is this place I've arrived to?" I shake my head in distant thought.

"This is what we call the Matching Box," she gestures her hands to show the oval room. "In here we have data on every habitant of the City," she pulls up some photos. "You can review and rate each profile. You can save them for later, reject them at the spot or ask them on a date."

I frown now looking at Amanda who is smiling widely, as always.

"A dating software?"

I don't think I can be or sound any less enthusiastic.

Amanda doesn't detect it.

"It doesn't have to be a date. You can invite people to hang out as friends. Trust me," she leans in, "you'll enjoy the city even more if you have people you like sharing the experience with."

"Hm," is all I say.

I doubt it.

I look at the profiles Omnia displayed. They're all Caucasian.

"Why's everyone white?" I ask, already sensing the answer.

"Interracial dating is not encouraged in the City," Amanda says with no undertone.

"Encouraged?" I push it. "Or allowed?" 

Guess my breakup with Bradley was for the better, then. I wonder if he knew about this rule before. 

And if he did - I now look at him for the first time since we left the Mayor's office - would he still have chosen to enter versus having a life with me in the Wild?

"I didn't know about this," he says, perfectly understanding my facial expression.

"That wasn't my question," I say, then turn back.

"Interracial dating is the one of the only two prohibitions in the City," she confirms. "That's why our quarters are segregated by race. The other is unprotected i*********e. We don't encourage donors to bear children."

"Which brings me to my question," I clench my jaw in spite. "What is it that we are donating?" I intertwine my fingers calmly in front of me, waiting to hear the answer to the question I've finally gathered up the courage to ask.

"Your genes, of course," she places her hand in another in a ladylike manner. "The entire city is made up of purebred donors. Each of you bears the exact traits the original races bore. Like that there is no risk of a gene mutation for the offspring and it's easier to pinpoint the exact genes one would like to have in their children."

My eyes narrow down. 

"I thought you said we weren't allowed to procreate."

"Oh, the gene extraction is done for babies for people on Earth," she says.

After seeing my shocked face, she continues. "Terrestrials send orders based on our gene catalogs. If you're the bearer of the desired trait, we use your specific genes to design the requested baby. Once all traits have been collected, the designed embryo is placed into an artificial womb."

I swallow hard, cold sweat running down my forehead.

Is this what my department's been working on in KTL block all along?

Yes. I don't even have to ask - I know it.

None of our 'crazy projects' were simulations, I realize.

That's how the Head Office always knew when our submissions were wrong. They actually produced the embryo with our DNA analyses. That's why it'd take them over nine months to report negative feedback.

"You're the Head Office, aren't you?" I scoff now, laughing. "The O.C."

She nods, smiling back. "Yes, the Head Office is a quarter of our city. We cooperate with other blocks on some projects. We outsource a lot."

I shake my head, suddenly finding all of this a little hilarious. "What happens after the embryo grows?"

"A month before it's ready to be released, it's sent to a spacecraft to Earth so it can be delivered to its parents."

"Huh..." my head's spinning. I don't want to pose this question, but if I don't I'm going to vomit. "W-what happens to the embryo who... to the babies whose design didn't turn out to be as requested?"

I feel unwell waiting for the answer.

Please don't tell me they kill them. Please don't tell me every mistake of mine cost a baby its life.

"That depends," Amanda says.

Elaborate, Amanda. I think it, but I can't say. My eyes are shut and my hands in prayer.

"Depends on what?" Bradley asks and for the first time in a long time, I'm grateful to him.

"Sometimes parents wish to keep the baby regardless," she shakes her head, "it's what happens with most cases. The mistakes are usually very small... A few shades of difference or a quarter of an inch in height. The later the parents notice the mistake, the less probable it is they will demand a re-try."

I swallow hard, nodding. "I want to know about the re-try, Amanda," I keep my fingers intertwined in prayer. 

"Well, we offer returned babies at a discount, for parents who don't care about the design or cannot afford one."

"And if they don't get adopted?" Bradley asks. I don't think he's asking for me anymore. He wants to know it as well.

"Sold," I correct him. "Let's call things for what they are."

"We keep them here in the City, then," she finishes. "But it almost never happens," she reassures us.

I let out one of the deepest breaths I've ever held. It was either that or vomit.

Thank you, God.

Obviously, my Mom disobeyed the rules of the city. She got pregnant. 

"Why aren't purebreds allowed to procreate? You could use their children as donors when they grow up," I say. You're using me.

Amanda gives me a surprised look. As if she was amazed by my intel.

"Microchimera," she says. "A fetus is a foreign body inside every woman. It leaves a genetic trace that affects both the mother and all her future offspring. They're too difficult to trace and modify," she raises her thick eyebrows. "Besides, we cannot extract genes of a female donor while she is pregnant."

Of course, I stare at the screen.

I studied this in biology classes.

"Has it ever happened?" I ask. "Has anyone gotten pregnant?"

"More often than you think," she scoffs with a smile.

But I don't smile back.

"What happened to them?"

"It depends," she says. "If the baby's made by an interracial couple, most couples choose abortion."

She explains seeing my face. "Mixed babies are not in demand on Earth. And certainly not well accepted here."

I finally see a pitiful emotion on her face.

"If it's a purebred and the couple is against abortion, the baby's sent to a Terrestrial couple. 

Purebreds always find a couple willing to adopt," she lifts a shoulder. "They're exotic. And cheaper obviously, when they're not designed."

This disgusts me.

This is why my Mother escaped. She didn't want to send me to Earth.

"So you make new donors only artificially, by selective breeding?"

"Yes, we design new habitants. The Mayor doesn't like to play the odds when he can fully insure a desired outcome," she smiles. "Naturally conceived babies are unpredictable."

"Why did you accept me then? I'm not designed," I say proudly, hoping strongly they will throw me out hearing it.

She laughs instead. 

"Of course you're not. But you passed the test. You possess desired traits. You're lucky," she smiles. "Besides," she places a hand at the side of her full mouth. "The Mayor seems to be very fond of you for some reason."

Mhm. I know the reason, Amanda.

"That's why they call you Kennel City out there," I scoff, staring at her, trying to make her feel ashamed. "You're breeding us like dogs. To keep us purebred."

"It's not like that, Gina," Amanda looks appalled. "I don't see anything wrong in what the City does," she says plainly. "It'd be a shame for the Original races to go extinct, don't you think?"

"No," I say simply.

"Not if their preservation is done like this."

She gestures to the screen. "This City is one of a kind, Gina. You're free here. You're able to use all services and goods available in the City. Free of cost. Indefinitely," she nods in gratitude. "You can date whomever you like. Make friends. They take good care of us."

But I ignore her.

"I understand you might be overwhelmed now. But if you just go through some profiles, meet people... you'll see we're all very happy here. If you like someone, just tell Omnia a command or simply swipe left."

Swipe left to find the right one..." I mumble ironically. "How very appropriate."

"That's basically how it works," Amanda misses my sarcasm once again.

I shake my head. I don't think I can stay here after all. This place is not what I thought it was. And I cannot revenge Salvatore from in here. These guys are just fulfilling sick Terrestrials' wishes. They don't control the blocks.

"If I'm free..." I clench my jaw. "May I leave now?"

"Leave where? To your apartment?"

I shake my head once more. 

"Out of the Kennel City."

"Where would you go, Red?" Bradley announces his presence again. "Back to the Wild? It's not safe for you out there."

"Oh, there he is," I hiss. "The man who made me a gene-w***e-prisoner."

That should shut him up.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Gina. Since technically you're not a property of the city, I'm not sure whether you're required to stay," she says. "We have only received three of incoming purebreds from the Wild, but they all were thrilled to be here. But I can schedule a meeting with the Mayor for you," she says.

"Good," I nod. "Please do."

I glance at Bradley now.

"There's someone here I wish never to see again."