Ration by Cody T Luff

Author:Cody T Luff [Luff, Cody T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Apex Book Company

29 Tuttle

Birthing was nothing more than a short ward. Hospital beds lined up shoulder to shoulder, the lump of swollen bellies rising above chromed rails. The ceiling was low, drop tile kept as fresh as the budget would allow, pocked with strings of light bulbs. Ms. Tuttle smiles as the floor squeaks beneath her shoes.

“Bleeders come here. Granted, there are only a few here and there, but they are valuable none the less.” A Woman in a white dress, her hair covered by a thin net, examines a girl. Her fingers press against the naked flesh of the girl’s stomach. Ms. Tuttle shivers. “We employ two Nurses. At calamitous expense, I might add.” Ms. Tuttle watches the bleeders notice the girl following her. A whisper starts, catching from bed to bed. “Ms. Vie and Ms. Pierce are skilled practitioners in their field. They may even be worth the expense.”

The Nurse frowns at her patient, addressing Ms. Tuttle without looking away from her task. “That sounds remarkably like a compliment, Ms. Tuttle. And here to think I’d given up hope.” The Woman’s dark hair is pulled back into a severe bun. A few strands of gray curl at her temples.

“Ms. Imeld,” Ms. Tuttle nods to the girl, “this is Ms. Pierce.”

Ms. Pierce’s eyes are a mild green, barely a color, Ms. Tuttle observes. She has never quite decided Ms. Pierce’s age. Somewhere above forty and below sixty. The Woman’s hands are large, her fingers punctuated by thick knuckles. Clever but ugly hands, she thinks.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pierce,” the girl says. She offers her hand to the Nurse and the Woman raises her eyebrows.

“Manners? Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. … what was it?”

“Imeld, Ms.”

The Nurse takes the girl’s hand in her own. Ms. Tuttle fights a touch of revulsion.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Imeld. You may call me Catheryn.”

Ms. Tuttle frowns. “She may not. She will not.”

The Nurse smiles at the girl and turns to Ms. Tuttle. “Your pardon, Ms. Tuttle. I have always admired your strict adherence to protocol.”

You are just another Glennoc, Ms. Pierce. I’ll have you out in my time. “Why are there only ten? We had eleven last week.”

Ms. Pierce’s smile fades. “Natalie … I’m sorry, B3 perished a few days ago. My report contains all the details.”

Ms. Tuttle’s headache roars. “Your report?”

“Yes. Reports, actually. After administering serum, B3 registered a fever. She was septicemic within a day.”

Ms. Tuttle brings her fingers to her temple. “You treated her?”

“Yes, a full course,” Ms. Pierce says.

Ms. Tuttle’s eyes fall on the girl. She stands beside the Nurse, her dark eyes much too ready, recording everything. “And the cost?”

Ms. Pierce’s frown is a simple thing, unpracticed, unthreatening. “Are you well, Ms. Tuttle?”

“Of course, I’m well. How much did it cost to prolong this girl’s miserable life?” She is shouting now. It feels good to shout, even with the throb in her head. Ms. Pierce flinches but the girl does not.

“Fifteen thousand calories. You will find everything in my report, Ms.

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