Glen winced as he shifted in the bed, his big toe throbbing. Dawn snuck in through the sheer curtains. He used his arms to shift into a sitting position, then did his best to smooth the wrinkles of his gown.
"Good morning, Colonel," Jane said as she entered, cheeks rosy. "You're up early again. Must be all that warm sunshine."
"Sure is." Glen smiled. Jane was his favorite nurse in the ward. Chipper, cute, a bit dense. It almost felt cruel to lie.
"How's that leg doing?" She folded down the crisp white sheet, inspecting the top of the heavy cast that sheltered his shattered leg. When her hands began moving toward his calf, his heart raced. He grabbed her wrist.
She gasped.
"Sorry." He dropped her hand quickly and plastered on a giant smile. "Please, I can't wait anymore. Tell me!"
She relaxed and scooted onto the bed, face bright. "Well, like I was sayin' yesterday, we got a batch of recruits in last night. Let me tell you, they were delicious!" Her blonde curls seemed to coil tighter in excitement. "I was fourth in line so I got one of the best ones!"
She hesitated.
"Oh, come on!" He made his eyes dance. "Don't I get any more details?"
She stood and headed to the side table. "Oh, you old flirt. I don't want to be a tease." She frowned. "It's a shame. The 40 year cut-off was wasted on you. You're as cute as the young ones. And smart. I bet you had at least five good years of seed left."
Glen felt shame creep onto his cheeks. He turned his head to the window. Two years ago he had aged out. "We don't like to call it castration," the doctors had said before the procedure. "We refer to it as... a release from unnecessary desires." Glen knew better. It was their way of protecting themselves. From the unwanted testosterone.
He should be relieved, having been one of the lucky ones. As a geneticist before the rebellion, he was deemed passive but useful. The unemployed, the soldiers, the executives; those men had been threats and were killed, unwanted under the order of the Redskirts.
Jane set a tray with a bowl of water, shaving cream, and a razor next to him on the bed. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Glen nodded. The razor slid over his prickly cheek, distracting him from the searing pain in his foot.
Once the infection set in, he'd be free.
Free from his solitary, windowless lab, and relentless research for ways to eliminate the male species. The accidental cut on his toe had been a godsend. He wouldn't have to try to escape again. He shuddered, remembering the mallet being slammed into his leg.
Jane's cool hand trailed over his freshly shaven face. "There. Now you enjoy the sunshine, Colonel. You'll be back to work sooner than you think."
