The Girl They Sold to the Moon Read Free Page A

Prospect—S7 from Sylvania, New Jersey.”
    â€œNice to know you,” said Tilly, turning around to look at the redhead, who had an attractive, makeup-free face, with a height two inches shorter than Tilly’s five-ten. “You’ve gone through this before, then?”
    â€œNo, just heard about it from a couple of kids who served out their terms. The lucky ones get picked up. You have pretty hair. If it’s dyed platinum, they’ll cook it out to your natural color. Better take off any pelvic jewelry, too. You don’t want a bull’s fat thumbs down there. The line should move after a buzzer.”
    Tilly shivered. “Thanks for the warning. I’m clean. Couldn’t afford any bling in the projects, anyway. I’m naturally light blond, so they’d better keep their hands off it.”
    A buzzer sounded overhead. The line pushed forward. The bulls waved their sting wands. “Just walk through and present your right forearm,” said the nearest bull. “Don’t slow down—keep up with the flow.”
    A plap…plap…plap sound came from behind a partition. A few shrieks split the air. Tilly walked around a corner and received a popgun vaccination in her forearm before she could blink. She gasped and massaged the spot. They removed her Omnicomp from her wrist that contained her DNA cube and bio/history wafer.
    â€œRemove all wearing apparel,” came the order over a speaker.
    The girls stripped down at the next staging area, amidst a chorus of groans and protests. Some of the girls refused to disrobe in front of the bulls. They had their clothes removed by force. Tilly shimmied out of her clothes, not wanting the same treatment. She damned those eyes behind the gold visors, but kept her face straight and mouth shut. One girl, tears streaming down her face, peed on the floor. They hauled her out of line and took her through an unmarked side door.
    â€œWhere’d they assign you, Dorothy?” asked Tilly, her voice cracking. She shook her forearm several times, trying to relieve the pain.
    â€œThey wouldn’t tell me. I heard rumors about some Arab sheik importing a workforce of about fifty Sunflowers. If I’m going that way, I’ll end up in housecleaning or washing dishes. They might even have me swabbing out toilets. How ‘bout you?”
    â€œMining colony—Tranquility Harbor. She lowered her voice. “They said I’ll be dancing for the Prairie Dogs.”
    â€œThe flippin’ Moon?
Major
way. Aren’t you a little young for that, even with the no-touch rule?”
    â€œI’m seventeen—legal age. They’re going to do whatever they want with us, whether we like it or not.”
    They removed all their personal jewelry at the next station. Several adult female aides unclipped, yanked, and unscrewed the baubles. Tilly had to wait until the line moved on, since she wore nothing of value except for the requisite tin tag around her neck.
    Next they entered a large refrigerator-looking container, forty feet long and twelve feet wide. Twenty girls were herded inside. The door closed just as an overhead speaker boomed, “Hands stretched to the ceiling, eyes closed.” Everyone obeyed, amid moans and whimpering. No bulls remained with them. Strangely enough, the cramped box resembled the inside of Tilly’s container home, save that her home had cutout windows and steel dividers that sectioned off tiny rooms.
    â€œI think this is delousing,” said Dorothy.
    The next moment brought a series of bright strobe lights that Tilly saw even through her closed eyelids. She looked down, chancing a peek at the floor. Next she felt a hum and vibration that reached a high-pitched intensity, followed by an electronic snap. Her pubic hair disappeared in a flash and puff of acrid smoke. She jumped. Her under arms and legs burned with a searing heat. She bit her tongue down against the pain.
    Silence. The