Lise - DM Arnold (inspirational books to read TXT) 📗

children I might have born.”

Ramina continued, “At the same time, we'll have the surgeon cut and tie your tubes -- to sterilize you. That way you will not conceive ... and thus not put your life at risk ... living in that horrid, lawless Zone of yours. It's a wonder you're not dead already.”

Lise swallowed hard. “Three days, Mam?”

“It's a very good clinic, Lise. You've nothing to fear...”

Lise remembered the day of the surgery, too. She was naked on a cot in dim light, covered with a light drape. Curtains hanging from the ceiling surrounded her. She was chilly from being sunstarved -- she had neither sun nor water for a day. Her heart pounded and every noise made her jump.

A door opened and an attendant carrying a tray stepped through the curtains. “Hello, Lise,” the attendant said. “How are you today?” Lise shook her head. “Are you afraid?” Lise nodded. “I would be too, if I knew I was about to go under the knife.” She set the tray on the end of the bed and removed a towel from it. Lise saw a large syringe. She gasped and recoiled.

“Don't worry, dear,” the attendant said. “This is just some medicine -- nothing that'll hurt you.” She showed Lise the syringe, filled with a cloudy fluid and the thin, flexible tube on its end. “See? There's no needle. It's soft and the end's blunt and rounded.” She began smearing the tube with a clear gel.

“What's it for?” Lise asked.

“This will help you relax and take away some of the fear.” She handed Lise the towel. “Lift up and slide this under your hips... Good. Now ... roll onto your side, dear, and draw up your knees.”

Lise complied. The attendant drew back the drape covering her and Lise felt her fingers spreading her buttocks and probing her. “Just relax, dear. This won't hurt a bit.”

Lise sensed an indistinct coolness infiltrating deeply into her pelvic bowl, and the tube being withdrawn. The attendant replaced the drape. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

Lise shook her head. “No...”

“Now, stay on your side while the medicine does its work. And resist any urge to push it out. It won't help you unless it stays inside. Understand?”

“Yes ... mam...”

The attendant sat on the cot and took Lise's hand. “Is this your first time in a clinic?”

Lise bit her lip and nodded. “First ever.”

“You're new to Ramina, aren't you. She brings all of hers in here for regular checkups. I've known Fara since ... well, since I started here ten years ago.”

“Will it hurt?”

“You'll be in a deep sleep. You won't feel ... or, remember a thing. You'll be a bit sore when you wake, but novonids heal quickly.”

“Could I die?”

“No surgery is risk-free, dear.” The attendant caressed the back of Lise's hand “This doctor is very good. He's a board-certified surgeon, licensed to practice on white patients; and he cares deeply for your kind. All the equipment and medicines are the same as he uses for his white patients. He hasn't lost one yet.” She regarded Lise. “You're starting to feel it, aren't you? I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

“When I close them I feel like I'm falling,” Lise replied, “and I have a strange taste in the back of my throat.”

“You're tasting the drug.”

“...feel odd ... like ... floating...”

“Don't fight it, dear. If you should feel like closing your eyes and dozing off ... that's fine. The more relaxed you are the more peacefully you'll go under the anesthesia. I'm going to dim the lights now, and let you rest.” Lise heard her leave the room.

Lise lay on her side, in a fetal position. The cold from sun-hunger was fading. Her cheeks felt flushed and a warmth suffused her body. Her chest felt heavy and it seemed an effort to inhale. She moistened her lips and they felt numb; and she was having difficulty keeping her eyes open. She closed them and saw vague images of the pomma savanna with blue skies, warm sunshine and green-skinned figures in the fields.

Her reverie was broken by the attendant's voice. At first Lise thought she was being addressed; then she realized she was not alone in the ward. The door closed.

“Fara,” Lise called. “Are you there?”

“Lise?” Fara replied from behind a curtain. “Is that you? Yes, I'm here.”

“Did she just give you medicine in your bottom?” Lise asked drowsily.

“Yes.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes,” Fara replied, her voice quaking.

“In a little while ... you won't be...” Lise rolled onto her back. The room was spinning. She closed her eyes and was again strolling the pomma fields.

She was awakened by the harsh light of an overhead lamp; and she realized she was in another room. The attendant was wheeling a cart of equipment toward her. Another was attaching adhesive electrodes to her chest and scalp.

An older white man wearing pale green scrubs pulled away the drape and palpitated her abdomen. He turned to the attendant and nodded.

Lise felt something cover her nose and mouth and heard a soft hiss. “Breathe deeply, dear,” the attendant said. Lise drew in a long, deep breath and a cloying sweetness filled her sinuses. “That's it ... in ... out ... in ...”

She awoke to find herself lying in sunshine in the yard behind the clinic. She attempted to sit up but was stopped by a sharp pain in her abdomen. Lise collapsed onto the cot. A glance around the yard revealed other novonid patients on gurneys and in wheelchairs soaking up sunshine. She saw Fara, still unconscious, lying on a cot nearby.

The attendant was holding her hand. “Would you like some water, dear?” she asked.

“Mmmph...” Lise moaned and nodded.

The attendant reached for a large tumbler and offered a drinking tube to Lise. “I'll hold up your head, dear.” Lise sucked water from the tumbler until it was empty. “My goodness,” the attendant remarked. “I'll get you more in a bit. I imagine you're feeling pretty poorly, with us sunstarving you and withholding fluids for a day.”

“Why did you?” Lise asked.

“So we could anesthetize you. We sunstarve you so you're not producing oxygen -- to force you to breath it from the air. If you're making your own oxygen -- you stop breathing when you fall asleep; then the anesthesia isn't deep enough for surgery.”

“And the water?”

“Sometimes the anesthesia causes you to vomit. It would be a danger if that happened during a procedure.”

Lise nodded in comprehension. “Did I vomit?”

“No, dear -- you did well. You'll be sore for a few days, but you'll be fine.”

“Yes, child,” Lise rolled her head to the other side and saw Ramina sitting near her. “Both you and Fara pulled through with flying colors. Take some time to convalesce and then we'll start you in your job. Did I tell you what you'll be doing?”

“Yes, Mam ... babysitting two white children,” Lise replied groggily.

“Very good, child. Now, you rest.”

“We'll put this towel over your eyes,” the attendant said, “to keep out the sun.”

“The sun's starting to feel good,” Lise replied weakly. She closed her eyes and felt the cloth placed across them...

Realization dawned on her. So that was why Ramina was so keen to register her, she thought. The job amounted to nothing -- it was more like charity.

Novonid men were in demand for heavy work -- valued for their strength and stamina. A novonid woman's true work was pushing out baby after baby. What Ramina had done was to take two worthless females and combine them in such a way as to obtain one valuable, fertile breeder -- and the other, still worthless as a woman, but healthy and certainly capable of drawing an income.

A black car approached the corner and pulled to a stop. Its door opened. Lise stooped and slid into the front seat beside a petite white woman with long grey hair.

“Good morning, Lise.”

“Good morning, Ms Ramina.”

“Have you recovered from your ordeal?”

“Yes, mam.”

“Any unpleasant, lingering after effects?”

“No, mam. I'm feeling fine.”

“Then you must be ready for your first day at work.”

“I am ... mam.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yes, mam -- a little.”

“You've cared for little ones before, haven't you?”

“Yes, mam. I've cared for novonid children in my neighborhood. I've never cared for white ones.”

“In my business, I care for dozens of young novonids. Children are children, Lise.” Ramina grasped and squeezed Lise's knee. “You'll do fine.” She pressed the control stick forward and the car moved into traffic, its alcohol-fueled turbine emitting a soft whine. “The house is in quadrant three, block fourteen-forty. Now that you're registered -- would you rather be called Lise or Zero-One-Zero?”

“I'd rather be called Lise, mam.”

“Very good, Lise. You know that many whites will call you Zero-One-Zero.”

She looked down at the registration tattoo on her left shoulder. “Yes, mam. I'll try to be alert to it.”

The car passed a corner marked with a sign bearing a yellow circle, then another with signs bearing the circle and a blue square. “What are you looking at, Lise?”

“The bus stops, mam. I must know the route home.”

“Ah -- very good. I knew you were a smart girl, Lise.”

“Thank you, mam.”

“You've already spoken with Megan. Her twins are adorable -- a boy and a girl. Megan is a single mom who's had her trouble with the law. She spent a year in a rehabilitation center. She's been granted a worker's permit -- for factory work -- even though she's of the merchant caste if I recall...”

“I thought...” Lise began.

“You mustn't interrupt, Lise.”

“I beg your pardon, mam.”

“Pardon granted. What were you going to say?”

“I thought once someone was rehabilitated ... that fact can't be used against them.”

“You're right, Lise -- their records are sealed. However, the labor office won't clear them for work involving trust until they've had an opportunity to ... prove themselves.”

Lise nodded. “I understand.”

“That is why Megan must work in a factory. She won't be handling any scrip in this job. The pay isn't what she could make working at her own caste level.”

“And, that's why she hired me. She can't afford a white nanny.”

Ramina looked down her nose at her. “I should hope, Lise that you keep our conversation to yourself. If Megan knew you ... appreciated her situation as you seem to... Well, it would mortify her -- and me, also.”

“I won't say a word, mam.”

“Good girl, Lise.”

Ramina piloted the vehicle though the city streets. “I'm taking a route nearby to my breedery, Lise.”

“I recognize the neighborhood, mam.”

“I want to make sure you know how it relates to the other sectors. Should you find yourself in need of shelter ... near curfew, for example -- you are always welcome there.”

“Thank you, mam.”

“Normally I would insist you live at the breedery. Since you can't conceive after your surgery, I see no reason why you can't continue living with your mother and stepfather -- in the Zone.”

“I appreciate that, mam.”

“I take pride in my product. Every one of mine has a fully documented pedigree. I know some owners turn their females loose inside the Zone and let nature take its course. It saves having to pay breeding fees or purchasing sperm. I'd never do that with mine. I don't permit them near the place. If one of them wandered in there for just half a day ... I'm sure she'd end up pregnant ... her issue sired by who knows what sort of hooligan...” Lise felt Ramina's eyes scanning her. “Tell me, Lise... are you sexually active?”

“Mam?”

“Are you sexually active?”

“No, mam.”

“Never?”

“No, mam.”

“It's all right if you are, and it's all right to admit it. I was at your age. Can you believe that?”

Lise looked at Ramina and attempted to roll back the years' toll in her mind. “Yes I can, mam.”

Ramina smiled. “Thank you, Lise. It's a natural thing ... natural for a female of either species.”

“I am not, mam. Why did you ask?”

“Curious ... curious about how things work inside the Zone. I've never known anyone from there...” She piloted the car onto a boulevard. “Since you're sterile, I'll treat you more like one of my males.”

“Minding a pair of white children IS female's work, mam.”

“I suppose it is, Lise. We're here.”

The car stopped along the curb of a block of single-story houses. Each was a concrete box with a glass front and steps leading to a stoop. The old woman parked her car, stepped out and Lise followed her.

“Can you remember this house?” Ramina asked.

“Of course, mam -- number 505.”

“I keep forgetting what a smart girl you are, Lise. Go on, child -- press the chime.”