AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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"You better have some good news for me, Al," Samirah said the moment she walked into the office, "because I've had about all the bad news I can take for at least one day."

Dr. Alice Walker had signed onto work with Wave Thirty Three at almost the very moment that Samirah let it be known that she was searching for someone to head up the medical branch of the project. Her specialized background, pre-turn, wasn't the exact match that Samirah wanted, but she'd been working in prison health for a while and seemed comfortable making herself a veritable jack of all trades. Enthusiasm, sometimes, won out over specialized skill.

She was in her mid-forties, openly had a female lover, and had been not-so-quietly suspecting that Wilds were still human since it had first been declared that they absolutely weren't. It was her belief system, more than her skill, which landed her the position. People who believed in what they were doing would naturally work harder for the project than those who didn't.

And, besides that, there hadn't been too many doctors, even out of those already working within the prison system, that wanted to sign up for something that came with so much time spent in very close proximity with Wilds. To treat them and send them out again, never really interacting, was one thing, but what Alice had to do was entirely different. It wasn't, for most doctors, a desirable role to take on.

"Do you know how to knock, Sam? It's pretty easy. You make a fist, and then you tap that on the door repeatedly until someone tells you that you can come inside," Alice said. "You don't know what I was doing in here."

"I don't care if you're hanging from the ceiling naked as long as you have good news for me," Samirah responded.

"That bad?" Alice asked.

"Well it's not good," Samirah said. "The houses in that lot? Lot E? Now we need fifteen and they need to be ready to go in two weeks tops. And that's pushing things back as far as I can," Samirah said. "Trying to get workers to come into what they consider a prison camp isn't as easy as it sounds. And we were supposed to get twenty five pairs from Overhills and Grange, but we've had to cut it back to fifteen. And I'm scared that the longer we push it, the lower that number is going to get. We need that subset of prisoners. Milton put in a special request for them."

Samirah didn't hold back with Alice on most of the information she got. It often felt like the two of them were in this together—along with just a few others who were truly dedicated to Wave Thirty Three—so it didn't make sense not to lean on each other entirely with the weight of individual burdens that would be collective burdens soon enough.

"What happened?" Alice asked. "What happened to our other ten couples?"

"The ten women were..." Samirah stopped. What was the word they'd used when they'd called her from Grady? "Euthanized," she said. "I think that's what they called it." She didn't miss the slight raising of Alice's shoulders or the visible wince that came across her features. "We can only match those prisoners one for one so I called Overhills and gave them my top fifteen out of the lineup that we chose earlier."

"Did they say what happened? Sick or...?" Alice asked.

Samirah shook her head. Hoping the women had been "euthanized" for being ill might be hoping for the best case scenario.

"It's Grady," she said. "Violence broke out and..." Samirah sighed and invited herself to sit on Alice's exam table. "They're getting tired. They're all starting to feel hopeless and overwhelmed with the Wilds. Nobody cares if there are a few dozen less and everyone is assuming that extermination will take place soon anyway." Samirah gnawed at her lip. "Let's face it, Al, a lot of people are rooting for us to fail. They're rooting for the project to fail. For the government to shut us down."

"There are more people against us than just the prison system folks," Alice responded. "Every housewife that wants a couple of kids without risking the ruin of her girlish figure is hoping we somehow fail just after we become a practical baby making factory—and they're hoping for the best possible outcomes with those babies."

Samirah hummed an almost silent agreement, but there was no reason to make a big show of it. She watched the news and she heard the commentary that was made anywhere from the late-night opinion shows to the supermarket aisles.

Once wild, always wild.

It was just a scientific fact. Everyone knew it. You could make them more docile, maybe. Maybe you could teach them some good habits and a few manners—like teaching tricks in exchange for treats or rewards—but a wild animal was always a wild animal. There was no going back.

And the terrifying thing was that none of them knew, for sure, if that was true or not. They didn't know, either, exactly how deep they'd be in this before they were certain. All they knew was that the failure of Wave Thirty Three would result in a mass extermination of an unfathomable number of Wilds.

Samirah, like Alice and the few others that were dedicated to the project, couldn't live with herself if she knew that she didn't even try.

"We're going to get shut down before we even get close to that if you don't tell me you've got some good news," Samirah said. "Milton's special one?"

"Andrea," Alice said. Samirah was more involved in the logistics and the business side of things. Prisoners still came to her like UPC numbers. "I know when she was ovulating and, the minute it'll show up? I'll get a blood test on her. It's the best I can do. It's the best anyone can do."

"I'm getting two calls a day now requesting a progress report," Samirah said.

"And so am I!" Alice said quickly. "But we're talking about nature and reproductive organs, not mixing concrete. Nothing is guaranteed and it takes time. They haven't even been here long enough to have ovulated twice. That's a lot of pressure. Some probably haven't even gone around once. It all depends on where they were in their cycles when they got here. If they want updates, give them updates on building progress. Give them updates on how we're sorting things out in the mess hall to be able to feed everyone three times a day. Actually assign some of these citizens the jobs they've been promised and get them out of house arrest. Then give them updates on that. Man or beast, they're going to need an escape valve soon anyway. Shut up for so long? It doesn't matter if they're wild or not, they're going to start going stir crazy and trouble is going to break out."

"I know that," Samirah said, not bothering to get worked up over Alice's tone of voice or the frustration that she was releasing with her words. "I know all of that. And I want to give them updates on everything because that's what they're demanding. But what they're most interested in is whether or not we've got any progress in the field of reproduction. Most of Milton's work can't start until there are babies. And there can't be babies until there are pregnancies. They're not interested in their jobs or anything else until there's at least something that says we're—working toward getting Milton's work going."

"I've got one," Alice said. "One pregnancy. And I'm hoping that—Andrea and Milton are so damn chemically compatible that it's amazing and she's going to turn up pregnant in a couple of days. But that's the best I can do. They'll start trickling in. I know they will. And I'm trying to get some research going, myself, to help things along, but you've just got to pass it up the chain that these things are just going to take time and stressing everyone out about it isn't going to make it happen any faster. Holding a gun to woman's head and telling her to get pregnant isn't going to get her pregnant any faster than just letting her be."

"You've got one?" Samirah asked, hopping off the table, ignoring the rest of Alice's speech, and holding herself back from running to Alice and forcing the woman to hug her. "We've got a confirmed pregnancy?"

Alice nodded her head.

"Who?" Samirah asked.

"I don't want everyone bothering her," Alice said. "I don't want everyone making a big deal about it. They're all skittish as it is. And they have every right to be. A lot of these women had children before and, as far as they know? The government took their children and they murdered them."

Samirah cringed and shook her head.

"Not murdered them," Samirah insisted.

"Let them die," Alice said. "Same difference to a mother who just found out her child is dead because of someone else's neglect. Don't you think?"

"Who's pregnant?" Samirah asked.

Alice shook her head.

"They don't need names," Alice said. "It won't matter to them anyway. Just pass on the information that we've got one confirmed and I'm absolutely confident that more are coming as soon as there's been enough time for nature to take its course."

"OK," Samirah agreed. "So they don't care about names, but I do. We need to make a big deal out of this, Al. We need to celebrate this. We need the prisoners to see that we're excited by this—that it's a good thing—and it's not at all frightening."

Alice almost looked nauseous. Of course, many aspects of the work that they were involved in were a little difficult to stomach.

"It's terrifying," Alice said. "The citizens are terrified. And being too enthusiastic? That's going to scare them more. It's going to make them suspicious. They'll worry and—they're already worried. I get asked two dozen times a day, even when I've already promised it to the same person a dozen times, whether or not we'll take their babies away."

"Tell them we won't," Samirah said.

Alice curled her lip at her like she had said the most idiotic thing that ever a person had thought to say.

"What do you think I'm telling them, Sam? But they're not going to believe it. Not until they see it," Alice said. "So I think we just keep things nice and calm. Just—no sudden moves and no loud noises while the mothers are gestating. After a few babies are born, and everyone can sort of observe what's happening and not happening? They'll start to calm down a bit. They won't be so worried."

Samirah sighed.

"OK," she ceded. "OK. We don't make a big deal about it. But—we make an announcement at least on the community channel. We let people know we're happy but we're not—too happy. Something. Who, Al? Don't make me subpoena records from my own project."

"Carol," Alice said. "Carol. But—she's very nervous and I don't want—just don't do anything, Sam?"

"She's?" Samirah asked.

Alice turned to her computer and opened a document. She scrolled through it.

"8294F," Alice said. "Carol. Her partner is tag 6245. Daryl."

"Nothing big and nothing scary," Samirah said. "You have my word. Just—maybe a little something small. Something to show we care, but not that we're too enthusiastic. Does Milton know yet?"

"He's not going to care until it's born," Alice said. "You and I both know that."

"Let him know anyway," Samirah said. "And—now that we've got a confirmation? They'll want to go ahead and get things going. This puts us back on track. It puts us back in business." Samirah's stomach fluttered. With the pressure she was getting to give some kind of update, she was thrilled to know that they finally had a confirmed pregnancy. It didn't mean much—they had no guarantees—but it meant that there was hope for the project. It meant that the government would back off. They'd keep funding them. They'd help them move ahead because, even if it was slow, they were making progress and following the steps that were laid out in the plan. "They'll be calling in Margaret Greene soon," Samirah said.

"Hurricane Maggie," Alice commented.

Samirah snorted. The two of them weren't best friends and everyone knew it. It was simply that they had both worked in different sectors of prison health for a while and they had some very different approaches to things. They had some slightly differing belief systems, too.

Maggie's belief system, though, didn't come into play when it came to her involvement in Wave Thirty Three. She was government employed and that meant that she was government elected for the job. Like it or dislike it, she was coming to their community.

"Play nice," Samirah warned. "We don't have a choice in this and it's better to have her on our side than against us because of some feud where you pretend not to like one another."

"It's not a feud," Alice said. "We just genuinely don't like each other."

"Al?" Samirah pressed.

Alice threw her hands up.

"I'll play nice," Alice said. "Because I have to. But—if she mistreats my patients? I'm not going to keep my mouth shut."

Samirah sucked in a breath and spent a short moment thinking about what kind of cocktail she was going to have the moment that she was able to finally make it home.

"I know you'll never keep your mouth shut," she said as her only reply.

"Escape valve?" Alice asked.

"What?" Samirah asked, suddenly feeling tired despite the news that should have her tap dancing out of the office and through the streets of the community.

"Escape valve?" Alice repeated. "When are we going to get them jobs? Let them—breathe? Let them stretch their legs and use their muscles? Part of this project is supposed to be showing that they can contribute to society and they can safely and effectively interact socially. We can't even begin on that part of the project if everyone is locked in their houses all the time."

"Soon," Samirah said. "Maybe—I could make a couple of calls for extra guards and we could see about getting them out there to help with getting those houses up."

Alice nodded enthusiastically at that idea.

"I could use a helper or two," Alice said. "Some could help with the meals. Laundry. Delivering orders and running errands for everyone?"

"You've thought about this a lot," Samirah said with some amusement. That was another reason she liked having Alice on the project with her. While she was busy handling the bureaucracy, Alice could think of the practical things that they needed.

"That's the second most popular question I get asked," Alice said. "Right after—are you going to snatch my baby? It's are you ever going to let me out of this tiny house? And—I think that working to build their community and getting it to run even more smoothly would be perfect for all of them. There's no better way to build a community and promote community involvement than knowing you're serving your own needs at the same time as you're serving everyone else's."

"I'll make sure it gets done, Al," Samirah promised. "Just—make sure this community is busy procreating too."

Alice nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm on that. Do we have a name yet?"

"Name?" Samirah asked.

"For this place? So we can just stop calling it the community?" Alice asked.

"I'll know by tonight," Samirah said. "And as soon as I know what got chosen? I'll let you know."

Alice laughed to herself.

"Good," she said. "Because when this thing makes the history books? Everyone's going to remember where Wave Thirty Three took place and it better have a catchy name."