Mischa waited at the table with Quinton by her side. Hunger and anxiety battled it out in her stomach like sumo wrestlers which caused Quinton to laugh. He patted her on the shoulder gently while biting his lip to fight the blossoming smile.

"I don't want to hear it. Scrap whatever sarcastic remark you have jumping around in that big head of yours."

"Are you actually nervous?" Quinton asked.

"No, I'm just a little distracted, since we found, you know." And maybe a little shaken up since their little moment, but she wouldn't dare clue him in to that nuance.

"Oh," Quinton said with a brief nod. He laced his hands together on the table as his eyes scanned the rest of the room.

Mischa's eyes dropped to the floor. She knew he'd rather be elsewhere, and she had dragged him into her family issues right after shutting down his feelings. His continued presence only confirmed how much of a patient and caring person he was. It didn't matter though, she had to keep telling herself; she'd be out of here in no time and join back up with Vita and Gunnar. She wouldn't turn away his help, but she certainly didn't expect him to risk everything and leave these safe walls.

"Sorry, we've been running late at the lab with a spike in security camera installations. Have to work out all the kinks in the little buggers first," Mischa's father said as he sat down opposite them.

"That's fine, Dad." He was only apologizing since Quinton had joined them. Late work days ran pretty standard in the Hues' household and didn't usually come with an acknowledgement of fault. "Dad, this is Quinton. Quinton this is my Dad, Nate."

Quinton offered Nate his hand and they both nodded in sync.

The teen flashed a charming smile. "Mr. Hues, nice to see you again."

"You already know him?" Mischa turned to her father with her eyebrows knitted together. Why had he acted like such a crazy person the other night?

"Of course I do, Mischa, the colony is small enough. He's been here longer than you have and there's enough overlap between the departments," Nate replied and lifted a spoonful of peas.

"I didn't realize Mischa was your daughter."

"Yes, she seems to be rather fond of you at this point considering the nights she's spent away from our home at your residence."

"Dad!"

Quinton choked on his water. His eyes quickly darted to Mischa and narrowed. She tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it probably turned out grim. She had failed to mention just how much her father knew about the two of them. Too late now.

"Dad," Mischa hissed in a low tone, "you are supposed to be getting to know Quinton, not accusing him of things he hasn't done."

"Mischa and I are just friends," his flat tone brought tightness to Mischa's chest. Why did he need to sound so dismal? She had been very clear about it from the start. Granted, he had clearly not understood based on his earlier attempt to kiss her; regardless, she shouldn't be cast the villain here.

"And how long do you expect this friendship to continue?" Nate asked with a fixed gaze on Quinton.

"As long as Mischa will have me." Quinton wouldn't look at her and she frowned at his impersonal nature.

Nate set down his spoon and dabbed his lips with a paper napkin. Despite Quinton's height, Nate's erect posture made the boy's shoulders slump. "Let me make this clear for both of you. My daughter spends nights in her own apartment, regardless of how friendly the two of you are. Understood?"

 "Yes, sir," Quinton answered without skipping a beat.

"Mischa?"

She squelched the desire to roll her eyes. "Yes, Dad."

The conversation grew more amicable as the colony's electrical set-up became the hot topic. Mischa put in quips where she could, trying to retell facts that Quinton had taught her about circuitry. She almost got a smile out of her dad at some points.

"I appreciate the time you've taken to help Mischa understand some of the mechanics of this world. It isn't as easy as you would think," Nate said.

"The mechanics or teaching Mischa?" Quinton said with a smile.

Nate let out a low laugh while Mischa frowned and gave her friend a swift elbow to the side. "You'd best watch what you're implying, right Mischa?"

"I'm just joking," Quinton said and put his palms up in defence. But Mischa shook her head and scrunched up her nose. He turned back to Nate. "There isn't much else to do around here so the shop lets me borrow parts sometimes and we mess around with them. Not much success, but we try."

Nate nodded, looking between the two of them for longer than Mischa liked. His eyes settled on Quinton, and he nodded with a small smile.

"It was nice to see you again, Quinton." Nate turned to Mischa, "I'll be running back to a meeting, and it might run a bit late, but I want to see you when I get home."

"Yeah, you will. Have a good time at work."

Quinton began to laugh as Nate walked off. "You know, I've never had to work so hard to gain good impression with a girl who is so strongly set on being just friends."

"Maybe you're just slacking on good impressions."

He shook his head before the smile fell from his lips. "You could have warned me he thought we were..." His cheeks gained a redder tinge. "You know."

Mischa averted her eyes so she wouldn't laugh. His big round eyes appeared downright adorable when he was embarrassed. "Sorry, you distracted me with your news. Will you forgive me?"

"I don't have much of a choice, do I? It's that or lose my newest best friend." 

Mischa smiled back. "Plus we have so much planning to do. How could you pass that up? It'll be just like building those voltage adapter things."

Quinton's shoulders shook as he laughed. "Somehow I think our task will be a bit more challenging than those 'voltage adapter things'."

By lunch the following day, the weirdness between Mischa and Quinton had passed, at least in her eyes since they could joke around again. Navjot and Juana squeezed onto the bench with nearly identical trays of food, not that much variety could be procured around these parts, but it still rang true down to their drink choice. They went on about some code they worked on during their internship while Mischa wondered why she was the only one who hated her position.

"Attention," a voice boomed from the loudspeaker. The cafeteria noise died down quite quickly. "All female citizens between ages fifteen and thirty report to the hospital wing after lunch hour. I repeat, all female citizens between fifteen and thirty to the hospital wing."

Cold needles prickled at her skin, and dark blotches materialized in her line of vision. Quinton steadied her shoulders as she tumbled into him. "It's okay, Mischa. It's probably nothing. Just have some water, alright?"

Mischa brought the plastic cup to her lips even though her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Quinton rubbed circles on her upper back with his palm. His touched helped ground her and her vision returned to normal by the time he had stopped.

From across the table, April smiled as her eyes shot between the two of them. The thought of correcting her assumption flashed for second before the more pressing matter came back to her.

"That's super weird," Juana said and adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses. "I wonder what's going on."

"It's probably nothing, just checkups or other stuff," Quinton said.

"Why would they specify age?" Mischa asked.

Her heart thumped louder than the din of conversation. The age range had an ominous tone she couldn't put her finger on it. After what she had seen in the 'hospital wing' last time, she knew no good could come of this day.

"It's generally the most effective way to divide residents into groups and target specific health concerns. It could be deduced that you are facing a gender-specific disease and need vaccines as the target demographic," Navjot said.

Quinton shook his head at his roommate with a scowl. "What Navjot means is that the men will probably be called for the same thing tomorrow. Probably to see how we're fairing almost two months post-disaster."

 Juana and April both nodded to settle the conversation. Quinton turned back to Mischa who still clutched the water cup. "You'll be okay. I'd go with you in a heartbeat, but my boss might start to ask questions about my health if I take an afternoon off to do a women's check-up. I just don't have the lady parts to back up that claim."

Mischa shook her head but couldn't fight the growing smile on her lips.

By the time the girls stood up to clear their trays, Mischa realized she hadn't been able to eat a single spoonful. Quinton's reassurances had distracted her when her mind finally stopped reeling with the scenarios waiting to pounce on her today.

"Might as well get this over with," Juana said.

"Are you coming, Mischa? It'll be better if we all stick together," April asked.

Mischa didn't know why her eyes shot to Quinton, but he didn't miss it. He mouthed, 'You'll be fine' and gave her hand another squeeze. The girls emptied their trays by the door into the compost, wash or trash bins. April made sure the girls utilized the compost bin and heckled an older man who didn't.

Once they were outside, April turned to Mischa. "What's been troubling you lately? Do your pre-disaster memories still haunt you?"

Mischa ran her hands up and down her tattered jeans. She didn't want to drag others down to her level or paranoia. But, didn't they deserve to know? She swallowed hard, not until she had more proof. "A bit, yeah."

"Thankfully, you have Quinton to help. We can always offer assistance too."

"Is Quinton..." Juana trailed off as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Are you two, going out?"

"No, we're just friends."

"Okay, Navjot just kind of thinks otherwise so I had to ask."

She groaned as she pushed open the door to the stairwell. She really wished Quinton didn't have to have a roommate. Did all the people she associated with jump to that conclusion? A girl and a guy just couldn't be believable as friends anymore, could they?

She kept walking down the staircase until she heard April's voice, "Hospital wing is on this floor, Mischa."

Mischa's eyes darted to the level number and she could have sworn she went down to section four that day, not three. A walk through the corridor proved the look was similar, yet these rooms had warmer paint colours and friendly staff.

"What do you think this is about?" Mischa said as they joined the tail end of a line of about forty women.

"Maybe we're out of sanitary products," Juana suggested.

"They wouldn't have cut off the age at thirty," April said. "Navjot may have had a point when he talked about a disease or illness which targets a particular age range and gender. Perhaps there are routine vaccinations we need to take."

The line slowly began to move into a nearby room. The chairs had been squished together as tightly as possible put there were only around twenty of them. The three young women ended up standing at the back with others. She definitely wouldn't complain if she could hide behind a few of the older ones.

Soon the middle-aged woman in the center of the room with her hair pulled back tightly into a bun began roll call. Her face began to show signs of wear around her eyes and mouth, but her smile pulled them back. Mischa wondered if the woman knew what went on just below them right now. Her stomach dropped to the floor as her wandering eyes swept the room. It couldn't be...

Between April, Juana and her, they vied for the title of the youngest women in this room. She swallowed hard. Could they be recruiting for their morbid program one floor below? If they had killed that boy, perhaps they wanted to seek out more victims. The older woman in the lab coat made eye contact that cut right through her.

"Mischa, you're shaking," April said softly.

She looked down with the expectation her hands would be trembling; however, her whole body rocked with quivers. Before she could react, the roll call ended and their undivided attention was called for again. Deep breathing would have to do the trick now.

"Welcome, and thank you for taking a moment out of your busy days to join us here. We've called you all here today to deal with an issue we'll be facing together for as long as we live in this colony. You women are the future, young, strong talented."

Nods of appreciation and light chatter followed. Mischa closed her eyes to keep focus. Buttering up the audience only meant one thing; the news that followed needed an extra course to be palatable.

"Any population with an interest in self-preservation must maintain their strength through numbers through proper education. After a thorough analysis of our needs and resources, we have come to the conclusion that in order to be prosperous in the future, our new generation should start as soon as possible."

"What does she mean, a new generation?" Juana whispered.

"They want us all to get knocked up," Mischa said and narrowed her eyes at the presenter.

"We have selected the optimal number children to be born into our facility each year. Six of you will have the honor of breathing new life into our colony. The children will be raised with special attention to their mental and physical strength and resiliency." The smile remained a permanent fixture on the speaker's face.

"Excuse me," a blonde woman at the front called out. "Who will be raising these children?"

"A select team of highly qualified individuals."

The room buzzed again until the same woman's voice bellowed, "Surely, you wouldn't discount the importance of the bond between mother and child."

"Mothers will meet with their offspring once a week to create this 'bond'. You may submit the remainder of your questions to our public relations board after the meeting."

The speaker's eyes darted over to one of the doors where the security stood. A security officer with dark hair ushered the woman out of the front row and brought her back to stand at the back of the room.

"The next two days will consist of assessments of health and medical histories to select ideal candidates. The title is an honorable one and you will be compensated. The task, however, is non-deferrable. If you are selected you must complete your task unless you are physically unable to do so." The smile vanished from her face. "Disrespecting our organization is a punishable offence."

Mischa's skin prickled as the woman made eye contact with her alone. They wanted to breed them like show horses, the best of the best. Luckily, Mischa knew her initial selection had been done with a forced hand, and she didn't measure up to these academic and technical geniuses. For once, it paid to be absolutely average.

"Why do you have these young girls here? There must be a law protecting them," the blonde questioner asked the security officer. Mischa couldn't help but tune into their conversation since she was a topic.

The security officer straightened her collar. "Women their age have conceived for years. It's only in the last century we've been up in arms about it."

"It came around the time woman got rights. Surely, you won't stand to watch them do this to our people. Have some compassion, officer..." the woman took a second to look at the uniform, "Fendson."

"Like she stated: it's not a choice."

Mischa turned back to the front where the initial speaker had begun to call names. Juana's was called, but Mischa and April had been left off the list. She breathed a sigh of relief until Juana gave them a quick smile and wave. The petite girl followed half the group out of the room while April urged her to stay.

"What was that about?" Mischa said.

For one of the first times, Mischa could recall, April's lips cast a frown. "We're going first."