The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Bella Forrest
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“HF Hart,” said Devon, his voice flatly stating the fact. “There is no reason to doubt the claim.”
“They could be undocs,” she retorted. “Very smart undocs, from Mechs, or possibly the Loaners. They could’ve built a ship… It was an oversight not to have surveillance outside of the tower.”
“Scipio reports that it’s not an oversight. The heat outside is too severe and would burn out the cameras by the hundreds. Daily.”
“Who’s Scipio?” I asked, and everyone stopped and looked at me, as if suddenly remembering I was in the room. I looked at Jathem and added, “That’s my third question, but if you don’t want to answer it, then my next one is: are the colors you’re wearing to identify your role in the tower? Is it crimson for knights, green for farmers, white for medics… oh, oh… are the Mechs and Loaners other… departments, or whatever you call them?”
“Dear lord, KE Dreyfuss,” breathed Raevyn at Jathem. “Whatever did you tell this girl?”
“Madam Councilwoman,” said MacGillus, his voice humble and soft. “She asks a lot of questions, too many to be an undoc. And I was with KE Dreyfuss. I can testify that he did not give any answers that might put the tower at risk, only ones that might increase her understanding of our defensive capabilities.”
“But not our offensive?” asked Devon, his voice holding a note of warning.
“Never, sir.” Jathem’s voice held a note of mortification.
I sighed and leaned back against the wall, folding my arms across my chest. It was difficult with the cast, but I managed. They were bound and determined, it seemed, to ignore me, and it was a little frustrating. I mean… I was the newcomer amongst them. Why weren’t they as curious about me as I was about them? I’d figured at least one of them would have a little less self-control, or something.
A sharp rap sounded on the door, interrupting the argument. Knight Commander Devon stepped out of the way just as it swung open, admitting an elderly man wearing a white uniform.
“Chief Surgeon Sage,” Raevyn said, inclining her head.
Chief Surgeon Sage was in his sixties, if I had to guess, and had snow-white hair and a bushy white mustache. In spite of his age, he stood tall, and his physique was surprisingly muscular, as if he could go out jogging at any moment. He smiled at Raevyn, a dimple forming in his cheek, and his eyes danced around the room until they landed on me.
“Is this our little alien girl?” he asked, stepping into the room.
“I have doubts about the assertion that she is an outsider, Marcus,” Raevyn said bluntly, folding her arms across her chest. “She could be part of an undoc cell trying to leave the tower.”
The older man’s smile broadened as he stepped around her, drawing closer to me. His eyes were a dark green, and crystal clear. “Well, young alien woman, what’s it to be—alien or undoc?” He sat down on a stool and rolled over a few feet, coming to a stop beside me. “Personally, I’m hoping for alien.”
Immediately his eyes went to my cast. He examined it closely, a wild grin on his face. “My father told me this was how our great ancestors healed broken bones, but never in a million years did I think anyone would still implement it. Isn’t that nifty!”
“Wait, you’re saying that was the technique for setting bones in the past?”
Sage nodded at Raevyn’s question, rotating my arm so he could examine the cast further. “Indeed. If she is an undoc, someone has access to old medical books or journals that are extremely out of date. I want them.”
I smiled, unable to stop myself at the hungry quality to Sage’s voice as he laid claim to some imagined medical documents. He pressed something to my finger, scraping gently, and then moved it away, inserting the narrow device into a port in the wall. The panel glowed white, and then faded. He leaned forward and tapped the screen, and the next thing I knew it showed blood cells, flowing their way through my body. He tapped another button, and I saw a double helix sitting there, sections of it automatically lighting up with flashing text. Looking down at my finger, I realized he must have taken a sample of my genetic material.
“Well, forget about the texts. She’s definitely not from around here!” Sage announced with a clap of his hands. “We’ve got ourselves a genuine alien girl!”
I knew the way he kept calling me “alien” should’ve bothered me, but for some reason, it was hard to be upset by the cheerfully pleasant man. His eyes twinkled like he was in on some joke that he wasn’t sharing with the rest of us, and I found it both enigmatic and intriguing. Maybe he would be someone I could glean some answers from.
“That’s not possible,” Raevyn exclaimed, taking a step forward. “Nothing can sustain life outside this tower. The ecological reports alone tell us that!”
“Hey, that’s what our people thought too,” I said. “You’re the first sign of human life we’ve ever encountered.”
“Young lady,” said Knight Commander Devon, his gaze falling squarely on me. “You will tell us where you come from, and how your flying… gyroship works.”
I swallowed and looked around the room. “Um, sorry, but I’m not so sure I want to tell you that, just like I’m sure you don’t want to tell me if I called it on the uniforms.” I leaned over and stage-whispered to Sage, “But I totally called it on the uniforms.” The old man gave a bark of laughter, his shoulders shaking, and he looked around the room, grinning broadly.
“She’s funny,” he announced cheerfully to the otherwise somber room. I couldn’t help but smile as he tugged my cast over.
I shifted a little as Devon crossed his arms, his eyes disapproving and dark, and I sighed. “Look, all jokes aside—and let me have that, I’m a little nervous—I have every reason to consider you all as
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