39. Great Expectations

        Train trips to the Gora Lab were part of Adon’s daily routine, the privilege of having a Restricted Access Pass to the ominous research facility in Gora had soon worn off, however. A brilliant mind, malleable and loaded with potential never went to waste in the Atlan Empire. Dr Malodon had brought him under his wing long before he graduated from Merchant U. Adon was merely a gen, always flawed in some way, like Nolan he lacked a huge desire to pursue conquests of the Vine Club, he too was much more interested in his work, in perfecting the gen races over participating in their activities. Had Adon graduated from the Panther Program he could have hoped to be elected as a colonial god some day, he was good looking and gifted, success was a natural by-product; but he lacked the social skillset needed to launch his celebrity. The next best thing was a career working right beside a real god. As an Executive Lab Technician, he worked for both Doctor Seton and Malodon, leading the latest projects in both Gora and the Moha Labs. In spite of the ceiling, he was happy, had the best continuing education every day and loved his anti-social job.

         Adon led a semi-conscious Moha Lab expiree into the Aribu Wing of the Gora lab, down the hallway into a small room, sparsely furnished with a desk, a few chairs, an examination bed and a tablet file. He strapped the expiree to the bed and placed a metal crown over his head, designed to harness any sort of electromagnetic charge. Next he placed the Crystal Skull on a stand at the same level as the expiree's head, just a few feet away, as per Malodon's instruction, then unpacked the new machine and rolled it into the lab. He then connected the machine to the generator and it hummed to life, just as Malodon arrived. 

         Malodon inspected the crown device on the expiree's head while Adon connected the wires to the new machine. "Get the moth."

         Adon placed the moth box on a stand between the Crystal Skull and the expirees head, while Malodon took a moment to study the dials before going ahead with the new test. He flipped on a switch and the machine began to tick. He checked the pulse of the expiree and adjusted the dial incrementally, until the tick caught up with the pulse.
         Painstakingly still, they studied the moth together, but once again, the moth remained calm, unflinching and unaware of any new and unusual electromagnetic frequencies.

         Malodon adjusted the dial some more, but no matter how high or low he turned the dial, the tests failed to yield any new results.

         "Damn!" He sat down, frustrated, unable to understand why these were such disappointing tests. Determined still, he exchanged the moth for a star fly and ran the test again, but that too produced zero results, not even a flicker of light lit up the cage.

         As he was pondering the problem he turned to consider the expiree... His eyes were closed and his lips looked blue... He felt his pulse again.

         "Mighty Medel" he snapped, irritated. "What kind of GARBAGE expiree is this? Get me a better one!"
         "Yes, your Honour" Adon unplugged the now expired expiree and wheeled him out of the lab.
         "A YOUNGER ONE!" Malodon bellowed behind him. "GET TWO!"

         Nolan wandered down Main St in search of Dion's salon, business card in hand, bravery was growing on him. Eventually he spotted the golden lettering above the doorway and looked inside the window. Soft pink lighting illuminated pretty mannequin heads on pedestals wearing stylish wigs, amidst a sea of sparkling products on display, luring his curiosity inside. A bell chimed as he stepped inside the welcoming reception, the sweet aromas of vanilla instantly filled his senses with desire, he liked Dion's Salon already.

         "Hello..." A busty blonde welcomed him with an engaging smile as he walked in the door. "My name is Mel, can I help you?"

         Like magic, Nolan was her captive slave, he knew who she was, the rumors were true, Mel was the most beautiful goddess he had ever seen. 

         "Yes..." he replied, feeling self conscious in the presence of a celebrity model. He handed her the coupon, unsure of what he wanted, completely distracted by her beauty, aromas and charm. "I... I think... I'll have my hair done..."

         Zara heaved over the toilet in wretched agony.
         "Did you drink too much at the club?" Dena queried, catching a glimpse of her heaving torso in the reflection of the mirror as she curled her hair, preparing for school.

         "I didn't go out last night..." Zara replied in between gasps for air, stumbling into the room and collapsing on her bed.

         "Then what's wrong Sugar Cheeks?" But before she could answer, Dena was all freaked out. "Ewww, did you catch a virus?"
         "No" Zara sighed. "I don't think so, I mean, I feel fine."
         "You don't look fine..."

         "I mean… I'm not sick in that way..." Throwing up for no reason wasn't the only physical anomaly bothering her but she had been scared to talk about it. "I... I think… I maybe…."

         "You maybe what?"

         "Pregnant!" The terrible word finally exploded from her mouth, angry, followed by a deluge of tears, she knew, even without getting tested, she had a serious problem.

         Dena dropped the curling iron, speechless. "EXCUSE ME?"

         "You told me the drinks would prevent this!" Zara moaned, calling Dena out on her misleading words.

         "DON’T YOU GO BLAMING ME AGAIN!" Dena snapped. "You're the whore that slept with some Merchant you never met. OH. MY. GOD. I wasn't even there. You like, TOTALLY left me that night!"

         "I left you?" Zara squeaked, she couldn’t remember, she couldn't even remember more than the first drink. "Really?"
         "REALLY!"

         Suddenly Zara felt terrible. "Oh my god... I don't know... I'm so sorry..." she sobbed, trying to patch the tension that had suddenly erupted between them. "I wasn't blaming you, I just wish I had never joined the Club. I really don't remember anything... Now what do I do?"

         "You'll have to go to Lochia!" Dena snapped, picking up her iron and returning to her hair, hardly calming. "You'll have the Product and come back to Fina once it's done. You'll get put back a year. End of story. It's no big deal, you'll even get paid if its a decent Product!"

         "Paid?" It was news to Zara.
         "Sure. If it's good enough. Breeders make a living you know!"

         Zara had never even thought about producing an example, she was planning to be an Architect, not a Breeder. "What do you mean by good enough?"

         "Like me" Dena gestured to her curves and flashed her a smile, "I was probably worth lots of gold beads."

         Zara wasn't quantifying wealth, she was quantifying losses, this meant she would miss classes. "How long do I have to go to Lochia?"

         "Nine months minus however long it's been" Dena replied. "You'll have to see Hedena about it, she'll hook you up."

         Zara was feeling swept off her feet by the same powerful spinny vortex that had swept her off her feet when she met Nolan, except it wasn't spiraling, it was plummeting. She stared out the window towards the city of Atlan through blurry eyes, wishing it was all just a bad dream.

         "You probably shouldn't tell anyone..." Dena urged. "It's poor form to be pregnant in Fina. Just so you know."