She thought of Briella Jackson covered in blood. Pill funders must be in a panic after the day’s events. God help me, I can’t stop thinking about it. Governments around the world had promised to investigate and offered to bolster protection for funders, but many declined the assistance. Reputation mattered, and having soldiers surround them would discourage protesters. They had to appear open to conscientious objections even as they feared for their lives. The Machinehood attacks were nothing like typical protests, which mostly targeted funders for underpaying contractors, or too much reliance on bot labor, or overcharging for pill designs. A funder with a bad reputation wouldn’t find people willing to work on their projects. Their investments would spiral into failure.

Nithya’s eyelids twitched. Sita slowed down the text scrolling and closed half of her desktop, but the input still overwhelmed her. With a wave of her hand, Nithya shut the whole thing off and grabbed a flush patch from the kitchen dispenser. Flow improved focus and information processing, but it couldn’t direct her attention, and it would interfere with sleep. She stuck the patch on her throat and ordered a glass of water from the kitchen. Flushing stimulated the body’s immune response by way of the vagus nerve. It always made her throat itch.

Luis had reprogrammed his and Carma’s alcoves into bedroom walls for the night. If Nithya held still, she could hear the steady breathing of her husband and child, both sound asleep. Good. That meant she had the time to take a pregnancy test with no one banging on the bathroom door. Inside the small washroom, Nithya lifted the blood sampler from its wall cubby and attached a fresh needle to the tip. She strapped it to the inside of her left elbow and pressed start.

“Sita, test only for pregnancy hormones.”

No sense wasting a full panel. Her daily drugs included an ovulation suppressant along with the latest antivirals and microbials. The likelihood of pregnancy was so low that she was probably being a paranoid idiot. At least she could hide the results, whichever way they went. Welga had permanent blood monitoring built into her body by the US military, with no chance of hiding anything. Her sister-in-law loudly declaimed that she never wanted to have children. The requirements of her service had allowed her to surgically ensure sterility. Some days, Nithya envied that freedom.

“Your blood shows elevated levels of hCG, consistent with your previous pregnancy,” Sita announced.