Morris Watkins walked quickly down the prefab building’s hallway, comparing door numbers to those on a slip of paper in his hand, looking for 17-4B. In a colony of fewer than a thousand people, marriages could not be left to chance; matches had to be made with an eye towards optimizing the the community’s genetic health. So says the Colony Computer, and one doesn’t question such things.
In one of these apartments lived Emmaline Rae Wilkins, and she held a similar paper in her hand. Morris could only hope she was looking at his name with excitement rather than dread.
No comments:
Post a Comment