“Alright,” he said. And then: “There was a problem with one of your patient’s blood tests.”

“Oh,” Sasha frowned, “I’m so sorry. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” Dr. Brandt assured her. “But that vile woman, Marigold. She’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Sasha was shocked. Most adult women in the American Federation had Aphrodite Rings installed. Sasha had refused hers, but the government offered them for free. They provided complete control over reproduction and allowed women to select whether or not they wanted to be fertile. She’d assumed anyone with as many bio-modifications as Marigold would have a Ring as well.

Maybe she just wants a baby. For some reason, Sasha hadn’t initially considered that a possibility. It was hard to imagine someone as fallen as Marigold choosing to raise children.

“Yes, Sasha,” Dr. Brandt said. “Or, at least, that first test indicated so. False positives do still happen. That’s why we’re headed back. We need you to administer another test so we can be certain.”

“Well, shit,” Marigold grunted, “I didn’t expect to see you back this soon. You need a friend, darlin’?”

The heathen woman looked the same as she had on their last interaction. Her hair was less greasy, so they must’ve let her wash. But she wore the same slip dress and sat in the same corner of the same cell.

“Sorry, no.” Sasha said. “I’m here to administer a pregnancy test.”

Marigold’s eyes widened. For a few seconds the woman was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed, she nodded and clutched her left knee with her left hand.

“OK,” the captive said. “Right. Where do you want me to do it?”

“Do…?” Sasha looked down at the stick in her hand and realized how these things worked. I’m sure Dr. Brandt doesn’t expect me to watch her pee.

“You can go over to your…normal…space. I’ll just, I’ll turn around.”

She handed Marigold the test and spun around on her heels, so the other woman wouldn’t see how much she’d started to blush.

“Damn, girl. Are you that squicked out by the human body?”

“What?” Sasha asked without turning around.

“Your face is as red as a damn beet.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!”

Marigold laughed.

“You can turn around now. I’m decent, and done.”

Sasha turned around. Marigold smirked at her.

“You know,” she said, “that instinct to apologize actually might come in handy around here. I’m sure the sort of men who jump in on this bullshit will appreciate it.”