This is the prologue to my novel Mind Runners that I'm writing for Nano. Enjoy and please comment. :)
Prologue
The heartbroken
sobs of an almost-mother soaked through the steel passages of the hospital. Dr.
Fields sat in his office, his ears once again annoyed by the sound he heard
nearly every hour. They were pathetic, these women sniveling over something
that was never theirs to begin with. His disgust at them built up behind his
eyes, shading the pupils’ color to a discomforting black. These women were
utterly devastated and yet the procedure was so simple, he mocked. He had been
there, so many times. A woman came in, needing a doctor for the delivery. He
would, as always, have to take an examination of the child and then tell the
mother of the alleged disease. So easily convinced their child would die
without an immediate operation, the women were always eager to proceed with any
recommended treatment. Then, it was just a matter of removing the child, a
quick cut and snip.
It was rather
fascinating, Dr. Fields thought, to watch how each mother handled the news of
the death of her child. Some were strong and held their face calm as they were
fed the information, but they all broke. Eventually, they would all break down.
He’d been known to stand outside the closed door of the operating room and wait
for the sounds of tears.
It was always an
annoyance to have to show the body of the child to the mother. Why the women
didn’t simply leave, he would never understand. They all insisted to be shown
their child. They were all shown a child:
a mock-up of a child, a silicon fabrication placed safely behind a wall of
glass so the truth was never discovered. It was the created disease that
required the glass. No, the women were never allowed to hold their children.
But, this mattered nothing to him. He needed the children. The women provided
the children, and he in turn provided them with a reason to live without the child
they had carried in their womb. He needed nothing else to suffice his
conscious. It was enough.
The clack of
footsteps disturbed Dr. Fields reverie, and a young man dressed in a gray coat
appeared at the open door.
“Excuse me, Dr.
Fields.”
Dr. Fields eyes
flicked to the man, without turning his head.
“The operation
was successful, and the contributor has been informed. The next embryo has
already been prepped for enhancement.”
A few minutes
later, Dr. Fields stood in front of an operating table. Before him lay the
pasty, gurgling newborn. His tiny hands were closed into precious fists as he
wriggled on the table, his white skin painfully contrasting to the inhuman
silver board on which he lay. Dr. Fields picked up a syringe and stuck it into
a vile. Slowly, the suction pulled up a thick, mercury colored liquid. Without
ceremony, he turned, placed a hand on the infant’s chest to keep him still, and
slid the needle into the child’s forehead.
A cry fit to
strangle the heart rang through the room as the baby lashed out, but the vice
of the doctor kept him in place until every drop of serum had been pumped into
the helpless infant.
