Page 1 of Soren

APPLICATION

LARA

Being smack dab in the middle of a food shortage when you have a two-year-old to feed is no one's idea of fun. It’s even less so when said two-year-old is the messiest eater on planet Earth.

I'm standing in the kitchen watching my sister Janie try to feed Iris, but the little one rejects her advances at every turn, knocking the bottle from her hands and sending it splattering on the floor.

If only she knew how hard we had to work to even get that.

Things have taken a turn for the worse here since the blight swept across the farmlands. Whole farms had to shut down, and getting our hands on food -- especially baby food -- was harder than ever. We'd already had to resort to mixing whole milk with ground rice as a sort of formula-substitute, and even that wouldn't last forever.

The other problem with that gods-blasted blight? It put whole swathes of the population out of work when they needed it most. Namely, me. So here I was, trying to make ends meet on the paltry savings we had left, and trying to do right by my sister and niece.

"We've got to do something," I tell Janie under my breath when she finishes wiping Iris' mouth. "We can't keep on like this."

Janie, usually a bastion of resilience, droops. "I know, but it's not like we're the only ones hurting. Everyone's feeling the pinch right now. No one's coming to save us."

I close my eyes and remember what life used to be like. Before the blight. Before our parents succumbed to illness. Before that slime ball left Janie pregnant and alone as a teen mom.

I glance down at my tablet again, chewing at my lip in thought. I've been wracking my brain over the past few days, reaching out to everyone I can think of and searching for even the most obscure ways to bring in a little extra cash.

"There's something on your mind." Janie doesn't need to ask me. She already knows. Always has.

I don't bother denying it. Just nod.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice tight. She holds Iris on one hip while reaching into the fridge with the other. That's Iris fed -- at least somewhat -- but we still have to feed ourselves. My stomach grumbles as a reminder.

I mull over the words. How could I even bring up something like this? How could I even consider it? But when I see Iris' sleepy face resting so innocently against Janie's shoulder, I know I have to be strong. For her.

"I've been researching some new job opportunities, and I think I've found something..."

"Oh?" She perks up a bit at that. "Let me go put Iris down for her nap. We can chat on the way."

I follow her out of the kitchen and down the sparse hallway to the room where all three of us sleep. The crib is the nicest piece of furniture in the room. We'd even sold off the bed frame, leaving us with just a mattress on the floor.

Janie said it didn't matter. And it didn't -- to her. She'd sacrificed so much for her daughter. We both had. And I didn't mind sleeping on the floor if it meant Iris could have a crib.

I sit on the edge of the mattress cross-legged while Janie bends over the crib. She lays the little girl down gently in the middle of the bed, then stands back.

For a second, I see tears in the corner of her eyes. They're gone as soon as they arrive, though, and I choose not to say anything about it.

"So... what is it?" Janie's voice is tired. Her face and her posture belie her eighteen years of age. I'm only a year older, and I know I'm not much better.

I swipe open the website on my tablet and hand it to her. I'd wanted to sell this, too -- but Janie wouldn't hear of it. Besides, this was my one remaining connection to the outside world.

I hold my breath as she takes the tablet. Her eyes widen further the more she reads, her mouth dropping into a surprised 'o'. Her brows knit together, and when she reaches the bottom, she looks up at me with concern and confusion.

The seconds tick by in painful silence. Finally, she takes a deep breath and speaks. "You're really considering...this?"

I wince. I knew she wouldn't take it well, but what choice did we have? "I know it sounds crazy, but..."

"Crazy?" Janie's voice cracks into an exhausted laugh. "Yeah, that's one word for it. Being a breeder for an alien? Are you serious?"

"You don't have to say it like that," I mumble.

"Like what?!" She crosses her arms, unconvinced.

"It's not like we're slaves or anything. It's voluntary. And they pay very well -- we wouldn't have to live like this anymore!" I gesture at the empty room. At Iris. "Don't you want that?"

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