C. Michale

         What if you were born only to die?  Glynn splashed cold water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror.  She found no answers in the gray-green eyes that stared back.  Glynn shoved away from the sink basin in disgust.  She stalked the few paces the dorm bathroom allowed while pulling her dark brown hair back into a regulation ponytail.

         She was soon back at the mirror.  The question rang in her brain like a death knell.  What if you were born only to die?  Glynn tucked her faith medallion into the green undertank of her uniform.  Her fingers lingered on the collar.  With a lump in her throat, she drew the material down the center of her chest to reveal a thick red scar.  Evidence that, once, she had been meant to die.

         The door opened behind Glynn.  She started violently and quickly recovered the tell-tale scar.  She cleared her throat.  "Geez, Fant, you scared me."

         "You still buggin' about that stupid question?" Fantine asked.  "Take a load off.  Marcoux asks it of every third year.  Wants to know if we're crazy or something."  Fantine primped in the mirror.

         "Well, aren't we?" Glynn asked.

         "There you go, girl," Fantine encouraged with a pretty smile.  "When's Tad picking you up?"

         Glynn checked her timer.  "In ten."

         "Best put your make-up on, then," Fantine teased.

         "Come off it.  It's mandatory drill practice."

         "Whatever you say."  Fantine checked her appearance in the mirror one more time before heading out.

         Glynn turned back to the mirror.  All lightness and humor faded from her face.  "I'm not dead, yet," she informed her reflection and finished getting ready.

         Thaddeus was Glynn's cadet unit's supervisor.  He'd only come through Universal Protector training two years ahead of her class and still looked like a cadet himself.  Six months ago, he'd taken a special interest in Glynn.  The unit imagined the attention was romantic, but Glynn, Thaddeus and Commander Detton knew otherwise.

         Six months ago, Tad found Glynn in the common washroom with a needle in her arm.  For a long moment afterward, they just stared at each other.  Tad held out his hand.  "Give it here," he ordered.  His face turned sterner than Glynn had ever seen.  She handed him the hypodermic and rolled her sleeve back down.  Tad turned the yellow injector over in his hand.  "What is it?"

         "Something necessary to sustaining my life," Glynn answered evenly.

         "We'll see about that."

         Two days later, Glynn waited nervously outside Commander Detton's office.  She commanded her leg to stop shaking, but it obstinately disobeyed.  Tad was inside with Detton, and there was no mistaking the topic of discussion.  The door finally opened.  Glynn stood to attention.  "Enter," Detton commanded.

         Glynn walked slowly to stand next to Thaddeus before Commander Detton's desk.  Her hypodermic lay atop the metal table.  Glynn raised her eyes from it to Detton's indecipherable face.  She glanced quickly at Tad.  He did not look pleased.  "So, you're the one," Detton mused.

         "Sir?" Tad asked.

         "Dismissed, Thaddeus," Detton said sharply.  Tad came to attention and exited the office.  "At ease, Cadet Glynn."  He spun the hypodermic around with apparent idleness.  "They told me there was one of you in my school, but I never would have guessed it was you."  Detton glared at her with cold, calculating eyes.  "Third in your class, top marks in combat, weapons, logic, laws.  You're in perfect physical condition, the physicians do assure me.  Tell me, what did you get, Cadet Glynn, that requires this?"  He held up the hypo.

         "It is my understanding, sir, that I do not have to tell you," Glynn stated.  "I've done nothing wrong, sir."

         "You just got caught," Detton said.  "Don't let it happen again.  One more hint of this and I will not protect you from the repercussions.  Dismissed, Cadet Glynn."

         Glynn came to attention, turned on her heel and marched out of the room.  As the doors closed behind her, Detton muttered, "Bloody Receptor." 

         Glynn had no time to enjoy her reprieve.  Immediately, Tad grabbed her by the arm and led her down the corridor to an empty executive room.  He shoved her into the wall.  "Don't think this gets you off my hook, Cadet," he warned just inches from her face.  "You may have some hold over Detton, but I'm watching you."

         Glynn focused her eyes on his.  "I'm not going to mess up," she informed him.

         "You will and I will be there to see it."

         "I'm the best."

         "You're nothing but a drug-head."

         Glynn looked down.  "You don't know anything," she said softly and shoved past him.

         "I'm watching you."  Ever since, every time Glynn turned around Thaddeus was there.  He dogged her leisure hours, personally oversaw her training sessions and even scheduled extra drills.  The attention, romantic or hostile, kept her on edge.  No wonder Marcoux's question addled her brain.

         Glynn answered Tad's knock promptly.  "Ready, Cadet Glynn?"

         "Yes, sir."

         They walked side by side without speaking to one another to the training center.  In the common locker room, they both shed their uniform shirts and shoes and donned protective gear.  Then, they walked out into the cavernous auditorium.  All Protector cadet classes had daily exercise and training drills here.  Only those failing or under punishment ever saw it as empty as it was now.  Though Glynn was neither, she was very familiar with the sight of vacant exercise equipment and the squeaky echo of two sets of bare feet on the padded floor.

         "The situation today begins with hand to hand, followed by a workout on the bars, a field test, and marksmanship," Tad stated.

         "That all?"

         "Well, since you like to run so much, take a lap."

         "Yes, sir."  Glynn set off at a brisk jog around the gym's track.  At the beginning of first year, she'd taken to running laps first thing in the morning: not by choice and certainly not undetected.  Tad had a habit of throwing it up to her as if he knew the reason behind her exertions.  The early exercise had to do with the timer on her wrist and the hypo hidden behind a false bottom in her locker.  Thanks to Tad, she'd gotten very good at hiding her medication.  Glynn glanced at the timer as she rounded the first curve.  Her heart beat steadily along.  That was certainly a marvel.

         Just five years ago, she couldn't run at all.  A fat scar, thrice daily injections and monthly check-ups were a small price to pay for the trade off.  Tad's scrutiny, Detton's disgust, those were other matters entirely.  Glynn checked her timer again; this time she eyed the count down mechanism.  That was the reason she'd taken up morning jogging and sacrificed sleep.  Its alarm had a bad habit of going off during roll call first term.

         All injections had to be administered within one hour of the timer going off or there would be serious consequences.  Death was high on that unpleasant list.  The morning injection was the most important and morning drills left no time to sneak it in, so Glynn had asked her doctors if there was any way to push up the timetable.  The least unpleasant option involved exertion first thing in the morning.  Now, not for the first time, Glynn wondered why she'd chosen jogging.  Her dorm mates kidded her about it and Tad tried to break her with it.

         Glynn stopped on her mark in front of Thaddeus, breathing deeply but evenly.  Tad tossed her a helmet and led her to the sparring ring.  It usually took him about fifteen minutes to decide that she had paid attention in defensive arts classes.  Today, something else happened.  When Glynn sidestepped a blow, the velcro of Tad's glove caught on her ribbed tank.  As he brought his fist back to defensive position, her shirt tore.  Glynn watched Tad's brow furrow as he dropped his stance.  She glanced down.  Horrified, Glynn quickly covered her exposed flesh with her hand.

         "What the hell is that?" Tad demanded.

         "None of your damn business," Glynn shot back.  She turned away, preparing to bolt for the locker room.

         "You weren't dismissed, Cadet Glynn," Tad snapped.

         Glynn turned back toward him.  Now, she was breathing hard: wondering what Tad thought he saw.  Her hand tightened into a fist around her faith medallion.  "Permission to change, sir," she requested.

         "Denied.  Drill is not over," Tad informed her.  "Stand ready."  Glynn glanced toward the exit doors.  "Stand ready."

         Glynn dropped her hands to her sides as her chin rose.  Then, she shifted her right leg back and brought her hands up.

         "You're a little young for a battle wound."

         "My medical history is none of your concern," Glynn answered tightly.

         "We'll see about that."  Tad pushed her harder than usual.  Glynn performed superbly at every stage of the situation.  She was always good, but today she excelled all expectations.  She hit a 10/10 on the range.  A 7/10 was considered optimal, but she usually had to shoot a 9/10 to receive a fair rating from Tad.

         Afterward, Glynn set her gun on the shelf and handed her headphones to the rifle master.  She faced Tad at attention.  "Permission to change, now, sir," she requested.

         "What exactly are you trying to hide?" Tad asked.  Silence was his only answer.  "Then, answer this: is it worth it?"

         "I don't know yet, sir," Glynn said truthfully.

         "Go change."

         "You look terrible," Sass commented when Glynn returned to their room.

         "Thanks."

         "What do you expect?  She had a date with Tad," Fantine teased.

         Glynn was too tired to protest.  She collapsed on her bunk and closed her eyes.

         "What you need is a break," Sass decreed.  "We're getting together in the Commons.  You should come with."

         Glynn's timer beeped once loudly.  "You go ahead," she sighed.  "I'll be along shortly."

         "Sure."

         "Now you promise?"

         "I promise."  Glynn saw her roommates out the door before retrieving a hypo and injecting it into her arm.  Five weeks till graduation.  "What now?" she asked audibly when the door chimed.

         Orson stood just outside.  "Hi."  He smiled his crookedly endearing smile that sent most girls fawning.

         "What do you want?" Glynn asked.

         "Heard you had a date with Tad today," Orson said.  Glynn rolled her eyes as she stepped out on the landing.  "You know a perfect round means you buy the first."

         "I don't know where you get your information," Glynn said airily.

         "I also heard you're bugging about Marcoux's mind bender," Orson continued.

         "So?"

         "So, you're not alone.  It's hot topic down at Commons," Orson said cheerfully.  "Gleaning and Receptors are on the menu tonight, that's for sure."

         Glynn almost gave up and went back to her room.  That's the last thing she wanted to hear.  Though Marcoux's question hadn't been far from her mind all afternoon, she was not in the mood for another round of Receptor bashing.  Ever since gleaning had been ruled into law a hundred odd years ago, it had been a favorite subject of Protectors.

         The law stated that any healthy body found dead by unnatural means would be gleaned for parts, e.g., heart, lungs, liver, etc.  There were a lot of specific rules involving time, age, injury and so forth, but only the lawyers and doctors paid much attention to that.  The common Protector's objections lay with the dead body itself and the live body whose life is extended by another's demise.

         Universal Protectors are the first line of defense for most of the settled universe.  They are a martial police force often thrust into difficult and deadly situations.  Their primary mission is to establish and ensure justice, protect the weak and promote regional stability.  They are guardians of peace, body guards and undercover agents in all quadrants as the need arises.  Such high risk lifestyles led frequently to early death, leaving a clean, healthy body for the "vultures", the doctors who removed the organs.  Natural fear of death was compounded by fear of gleaning.  Those who received the dead's organs, Receptors, were communally loathed because their lives depended on death.

         "Hey, everybody, guess who shot a 10/10 today?" Orson called as he and Glynn entered the stale-aired Commons.  So much for a low profile.  Glynn reluctantly accepted the congratulations and bought the house a round.  She took her drink and perched at the end of a couch.

         At first, conversation centered around upcoming finals and what sector everyone hoped to be assigned to afterwards.  This far out no one actually talked about graduation itself; no one wanted to jinx their chances.  With the help of Marcoux's question, the conversation eventually turned to death and gleaning.  After a few drinks, insults flew and demeaning stories flowed.  Receptor bashing was a long standing tradition among Protectors.  It was virtually a requirement when they gathered together.  After all, the Universal Protectors predated the gleaning law and felt entitled to their own body parts.

         Glynn quietly slipped out of the stuffy room onto the Commons' private balcony.  She leaned over the rail and stared out into the cool, still night.  After awhile, she looked down at the red palm that grew below.  She tipped her glass on its side, slowly pouring out the alcohol as she had many times before.

         "The bartender said you actually drink this stuff."  Glynn turned to accept a seltzer water from Tad.  "You don't drink, do you?"

         "No," Glynn acknowledged.

         "Defeats the 10/10 toast," he commented.  Glynn leaned against the rail.  She wasn't exactly surprised at the change in Tad.  He'd tried nice a few times before, usually with a drink or two in him.  "Look, about earlier," Tad said.  "I was out of line."

         "Yes, you were," Glynn said.  She sipped the seltzer.

         "You must really want to be a Protector," Tad commented.

         "Yeah."  Glynn idly fingered her faith medallion.

         "You really should chuck that thing," Tad advised.

         Glynn turned on him with flashing eyes.  "My faith is less your business than the other," she informed him.

         "Just advice, Glynn.  Wouldn't want anyone thinking you're weak," Tad said.

         Glynn turned away again.  "Don't you have anything better to do?"

         "Frankly, you're the best challenge I've got going," Tad admitted unperturbed.  "I'd have laid odds you'd've broke or given in by now."

         "Don't flatter yourself, Tad."  

         "So I don't bother you, but Marcoux's got you in a twist?" Tad commented.  Glynn glanced at him sharply.  "Word travels fast, especially in the Commons."

         Glynn sighed.  "It just seems that there should be an answer."

         "There's not one answer, but many.  Everyone thinks about it, Glynn.  Everyone's afraid to die.  We're all afraid of the gleaning.  Wonder where our parts are going to end up," Tad said.

         "I'm not afraid," Glynn said.

         "Maybe that's your problem."

         "My problem is you," Glynn informed him.

         "Maybe so, but you got your 3rd 10/10; two more and it's a new cadet record," Tad suggested.  "Enjoy the drink."

         Glynn watched him walk away.  He meant to drive her insane, she knew.  As did Marcoux.  Glynn pressed her hand over her heart.  It beat steady and strong; a reminder that someone had already died for her.  Death meant something different to her than the others.  Noble sacrifice was not something to be feared or denigrated.  She glanced toward the Commons where they were laughing and carrying on.  Why couldn't they understand that?

         Glynn struck out to lose herself in the many catwalks and corridors of the Protector Training Center.  She had to think and pray - figure out the answer.  What if you were born only to die?  The question eluded answer, leaving Glynn frustrated.

         She met Shance, a fellow third year cadet, on the outdoor track cooling down from his mandatory ten miles.  Shance had been caught sneaking sleeping pills from the infirmary.  His discipline was a ten-mile-a-day run during his leisure time.  His father was a high ranking officer or Shance would have been booted out.  Protectors took a zero tolerance approach to unprescribed meds.

         "How's it going, Glynn?" Shance asked.  "Heard Tad's been rough on you lately."

         "No more than usual.  You been to see Marcoux yet?"

         "Tomorrow.  You?"

         Glynn nodded.  "Your father give you any advice?"

         "He said Marcoux'd try to put a mind bender on me.  He also said not to lie," Shance said.

         "That'll be kinda tough on you, huh?"

         "Yeah.  Your parents coming to graduation?"

         "Don't know.  It's a lot of money for them to come out here.  Yours?"

         "Pops is gonna give a speech on something important, honor or bravery or something."  Shance shrugged carelessly.

         "See you around, Shance," Glynn said.

         "Heard you shot a 10/10.  Congrats," Shance called after her.

         A loudspeaker announcement wouldn't have reached as many people as quickly as her 10/10 news did.  It made her celebrity of the day.  As did her next a week later and fifth three days after that.  Glynn now held the cadet record.  That ensured her a medal on graduation day, and her position as first in her class earned her first choice of any open posting.  An honor Glynn was completely unprepared for.

         After so many years of just surviving, excelling was something new to her.  She hadn't gotten used to the idea that she could stand out and it wasn't a bad thing.  Glynn's sixth 10/10 shot her into the stratosphere as far as fame went in the cadet community.  It was even more difficult to find a moment alone for her injections.  She was expected at the Commons every night to be toasted.  A seat of honor was saved for her.  When it was empty, people went in search of her.  People like Tad.  His doggedness had not eased.

         "You need a better hiding place," he said upon finding her out on the balcony.

         "I need air," Glynn answered.

         They stood in silence for a long while.  No one bothered her while Tad was nearby.  That was something of a mixed blessing.  "Did you figure it out yet?" Tad asked.  He took a drink of his beer.

         "What?"

         "Marcoux's question."

         "No."  She sighed.  "It just doesn't make sense."

         "You're what doesn't make sense," Tad stated.

         "Me?"

         "You're a paradox.  You're the first in all your classes, yet you're a drug-head.  Drugs should make you careless, but I can't catch you.  I've tried.  Drugs should waste you, but you're in prime condition.  You're as fit as anyone, but you wear a bio-monitor and see the docs more often than anyone.  You don't fit, Glynn.  You don't make sense," Tad informed her.

         "You think the problem is me?" Glynn asked.

         "You tell me."

         Glynn hesitated.  "Want to take a walk?"

         "Sure." 

         They walked down to the dim main concourse where no one else ventured this late.  Glynn's turmoil as the silence lengthened was so great she was sure Tad could feel it.  He opened his mouth to speak just as she summed up the courage to.  "It's a medication for my heart.  I take it everyday.  It keeps my heart going strong.  Keeps me alive," Glynn admitted with many hesitations.

         "Are you sick?"
         "Not anymore.  I was, for a long time," Glynn said.

         "The scar's from a surgery?" Tad guessed.

         "Yeah.  A surgery."  The half-truth choked in her chest.

         "Why all the secrecy?" Tad asked.

         "Haven't you ever wanted to be normal, just normal?" Glynn asked.  "It took an act of God to get me into the academy with my condition.  I want to be a Protector more than anything, Tad.  I will do anything I have to to become one."
         "So, when you die," Tad asked after a few minutes, "no gleaning?"

         "No.  They wouldn't take if I offered," Glynn answered.

         He stopped and looked at her curiously.  "What does that feel like?"

         "What?"

         "Knowing when you die, your body's sacred?  No vultures will ever touch you?"

         "I don't know," Glynn said.  "I hadn't thought about it."

         "The heart of Marcoux's question, Glynn, is the gleaning," Tad said.  "He's mining for how we feel about being nothing more than spare parts when we're dead and done being Protectors.  Most of us are scared to death of it and he knows it.  He just wants to make sure we do."

         "Would you want your heart to beat in another man's chest?" Glynn asked fervently.  "Knowing that your death saved his life and he can now live.  Would you want your eyes in another man's head?  Giving him a chance to see a sunset for the first time.  Would that make it worth it?  Your death."

         Tad looked at her uncertainly.  "Never thought about it like that," he said uncomfortably.  "It's kinda like living on after you die, huh?"

         "I guess.  As Protectors we're called on to serve, protect, save lives.  The fact that you can die and still do that is something amazing," Glynn said wonderingly.

         "I guess it could be," he agreed.

         "It only matters what you settle in your own heart and head.  Like, I believe I am going to live after I die and I wear proof of that belief around my neck.  What do you believe?" Glynn asked.  She caught her breath short.  The answer couldn't be that simple, could it?

         "I believe you're still a paradox," Tad said wryly.  "And if we don't head back, I'm going to have to mark you for curfew violation."

         Glynn checked her timer.  It was later than she realized.  "There's a short cut through the command complex to the dorms this way," she said.

         "How do you know that?"

         "It's boring to jog the same route everyday," Glynn answered.  Tad shook his head as he followed her through dark corridors and up stairwells to the brightly lit dorm unit.  "Ten minutes to spare."

         "Don't get cocky.  I'm still watching you," Tad warned.

         "I'd expect nothing less," Glynn answered.

         "I'll think about what you said," he said seriously.

         "Good.  Good eve."  She entered her dorm room where Fantine, Sass and their three other roommates were getting ready for bed.  There were early drills tomorrow so more than one sleeping pill was passed around and downed.  Glynn found herself wishing she could take one.  She tossed and turned most of the night, worrying about what she'd said to Tad.  Wondering if she'd revealed too much, if he guessed, if he'd use it against her.

         All her fears were for naught as her unit assembled in the predawn gray on the field.  Tad treated her no differently than before.  He still seemed intent on pushing her to the breaking point.  Glynn meant to prove she didn't break.

         "Well, girl, you are the fittest body I've ever examined," the doctor said admiringly as he finished reading Glynn's bio monitor download.  "Keeps right on beating, steady as a drum."

         "I'm fit to graduate?" Glynn asked anxiously.

         "I wish I was so fit.  Don't put your shirt on just yet.  I want to see that scar."  Glynn stared over his shoulder as he minutely examined the scar that ran down her breastbone.  "Fine work," the doctor sighed.  "Alright, you can dress now.  I must say I'm sorry to see you go."

         "You'll forward my data to the next posting?" Glynn asked.  She slipped her tank over her head then buttoned up her uniform top.

         "Still hoping to graduate?"

         "They won't bar me now.  I'm the valedictorian," Glynn answered.  "Thanks, Doc."  Glynn adjusted her timer as she walked out of the cadet infirmary for the last time.  One week to graduation.  Glynn felt lighter.  Only a few obstacles still remained between her and her goal.  What could possibly go wrong?  Glynn began to smile.

         "Now, there's an expression I haven't seen," Tad commented as he passed her.

         "Things are looking up," Glynn said.

         "Don't trip," he advised.

         Glynn was still smiling when she returned to her dorm room.  Sass was seated at the computer terminal.  She held up an envelope addressed to Glynn without looking up.  Glynn took the letter and curled into her bunk to eagerly read what her parents' letter.

 

My Dear Daughter,

         Your mother and I are pleased to hear you're doing well.  I am so proud of you.  You have done more than we ever hoped for you.  I am sorry we won't be able to attend your graduation.  I hope you understand that we love you and support you.

         Glynn did understand.  Fifteen years of medical bills and the expense of taking care of a sick child were great financial burdens.  They were still paying off the final surgery, too.  Soon, Glynn would be able to help with the debt.  Glynn shook her head and continued reading:

         Now it falls to me to give you some fatherly advice.  You are about to embark on a great journey.  I do not want to dampen your enthusiasm, but hard times will be coming your way.  I know you think that you've been through it all.  I know you are strong.  There will be times to test that strength.  Have faith, good child.  Trust yourself.  Stand up for the weaker.  Speak your mind.  Don't be afraid of what may come.  Do what is right and you need never be ashamed.

         You have been well taught.  I know you will have the strength to stand up for yourself and to protect others, as you have always wanted. Know that your mother and I love you.  We miss you, we pray for you and we are very proud of you.

                                    Much Love, Dad

 

         Glynn refolded the letter and sat staring into space.  She was startled back to awareness by Fantine's hand on her shoulder.  "You okay, girl?" Fantine asked.  She looked concerned.  "You've been spaced for an hour."

         "What?  Yeah.  I'm good," Glynn said.  She held up the letter.  "My parents, they can't come to graduation."

         "Bummer.  You got any tests left?"

         "One final evaluation.  You?"

         "I have a make-up logic exam tomorrow.  We're headed down to the Commons.  Come drown your sorrows," Fantine invited.

         "Sounds good."  Glynn automatically checked her timer.  She had a good hour and some change.  "Let me grab a jacket."

         "What about you, Sass?"  Sass was glued to her terminal.  She waved vaguely.

         While Fantine was distracted, Glynn retrieved her jacket and a hypodermic.  "Ready?" she asked.

         "So, where are you going to request posting?" Fantine asked.

         "I'm not graduated yet," Glynn answered.

         "C'mon.  You'd have to mess up pretty bad not to graduate at this point," Fantine said with disgust.  "You're one lucky girl."

         "Luck has nothing to do with it.  And shouldn't you be studying?"
         "I'm studied out.  If I pass, I pass.  If not, I'm night clerk at the Pradon Hotel," Fantine said shrugging.

         Glynn knew Fantine wasn't as casual or careless as she seemed.  Fantine was brilliant.  If she failed, it would be on purpose.  Sass, on the other hand, struggled for every grade she got.  Her graduation was less sure.  Glynn felt confident that if she could get through this last week without incident she'd finally have what she always wanted: the title Protector.

         Commons was full.  Everyone wandered in to get relief from finals.  Glynn procured her seltzer from the bartender and headed toward her reserved seat of honor.  It was the most comfortable chair in the Commons where Egeus was currently holding court.  He stood to give it up, when she tapped him on the shoulder, without pausing in his monologue about Detton's obstacle course.

         The conversation gradually found its way past graduation to favored postings.  All had two or three and a list of reasons why they wanted to go there.  Glynn was ribbed about being the only one who got a choice in the matter.  Talk wound around to family; who was attending graduation, who wasn't.  That brought some teasing down on Shance.  As an admiral's son, he took it in stride.

         Sass joined the group before too long.  She sank down on the arm of Glynn's chair and grabbed Orson's beer.  She complained about finals for awhile.  Conversation stayed light for some time, but it eventually found its way around to death.  No Protector wanted to die, but it was a very real possibility, never far from their minds.  Talk of death jumped to gleanings and Receptors.

         "They're bloody bastards," Egeus stated.  "Isn't it enough that we die, they gotta cut us up?"

         "Can't change the law," Fantine said.  "But I won't go easy."

         "I hear if you take this blue pill, it'll give a false positive on their disease tester and they'll leave you alone."

         "That's specific."

         "They don't cut poison victims."

         "They gotta cut you to know you're a poison victim."

         "I don't know who's worse," Egeus said, "those vultures who do the cutting or the Receptors they do it for."

         "Bloody ghouls, all of them."

         Glynn sat quietly listening to all the comments and insults she'd heard too many times before.  Usually, she didn't let them bother her or left before they could get under her skin.  Tonight, Glynn fingered her faith medallion, thought about her father's words and took in every word her friends were saying.  The insults worsened as more alcohol was consumed.  She was unaware of how serious her expression turned.

         "Now, that's some look, Glynn.  Care to share with the group?" Sass asked lightly.

         Glynn continued to stare at nothing as she touched the medallion to her lower lip.  "I was born with a hole in my heart," she stated quietly, almost to herself.  All conversation in her immediate vicinity halted as every eye was riveted to Glynn.  Tad stepped in closer to better hear.  Glynn continued unawares, "There were surgeries, more than I can count for as long as I can remember.  I was sick.  I stayed in bed.  No matter what they did, they couldn't fix my heart.  I didn't know what a steady heartbeat was.  I couldn't walk ten steps without a dysrhythmia.

         "My heart began to fail when I was ten.  They put my name on a list.  I waited forever.  Spent years in the hospital, hooked up to a machine.  My mother sat by my bedside, crying every night.  Then, they told me they had a heart for me.  For the first time in my life, I felt I could have a life.  After the transplant, I lay in my bed listening to my new heart beat.  It was steady and strong.  It was the first time I knew I was going to live through the night.  I was fifteen.  That was six years ago."

         Glynn came to herself and looked around at her friends.  No one would meet her eyes.  An awkward silence reigned as she stood.  Not really thinking or feeling anything, Glynn crossed out of the room.  Tad followed her, but he lingered long enough to hear Egeus say, "Bloody Receptor."

         "Shut up," Fantine snapped.  She stared after Glynn with hot eyes.  "Just shut up."  They were all uncomfortably oppressed by Glynn's unexpected revelation.

         Glynn braced her arms against the railing and stared out at the night.  There it was, out there.  They all knew.  Glynn didn't dare speculate as to what would happen next.  Suddenly, her graduation was not so certain.  The prejudice against Receptors was so strong...  Glynn's timer beeped.  With a deep sigh, she reached into her jacket and withdrew the hypo.  She shed her jacket, rolled up her sleeve and pressed it to her flesh unaware of the man watching her.

         Tad came up beside her and took the hypodermic from her hand.  He'd finally caught her in the act.  Tad held the hypo in his hand while Glynn rolled down her sleeve.  "That was not very smart," he said.

         "It needed to be said," Glynn stated.  She sighed.  "I needed to say it."

         "A Receptor, huh?" Tad commented.

         "Ever met one?" Glynn challenged.

         "No.  You?"
         "Never.  No one in that room ever has.  They wouldn't know if they did," Glynn said.

         "Obviously."  Tad continued to look at Glynn steadily.

         Glynn crossed her arms.  "What?  Do you want to see my scar?" she demanded.

         "I already did, didn't I?" Tad stated.

         Glynn smiled wryly.  "You know, I had a choice.  Death or Receptor.  What would you have chosen?" she demanded.

         "I don't know."

         "Well, I wanted to live.  I want to be a Protector.  It's all I've ever wanted," Glynn said strongly.  She looked down, then back up at him.  "So, what now?"

         Tad handed her back the hypodermic.  "You're okay, Glynn," he said.  "And I'd be proud to serve with you."

         Glynn eyed him suspiciously.  "You do know what you're saying?" she asked.

         "I know you're the same today as yesterday.  One stupid speech didn't change that," Tad said.  He looked back over his shoulder at the Commons.  "That was a brave thing you did.  Stupid, but brave."

         Glynn followed his gaze, then turned her back.  She didn't really want to think about the repercussions of her actions just now, but she couldn't help asking, "How do you think it will turn out?"

         "What do you think?"

         "I think I'll know in one week," Glynn answered.

 

 

Copyright 2006, C. Michale

C. Michale is a pseudonym stemming from a past obsession with Star Trek and not being able to spell my middle name in Jr. High.  I have had two stories published: "Treasure Hunt" in DKA Magazine and "Amara's Heat" in Gateway Sci-Fi Magazine.  I love to write and it is my goal to bring glory to God through my writing.

 

 

Cover: "The Lady Returns"

Copyright 2006, Melinda S Reynolds 

Self-taught artist and writer; drawing came first, writing second.  My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi because of the depth of imagination.