“What do you mean…cleansed?” “I mean…they sterilize us,” I whispered. I figured he’d known last night. I would have expected him to at least mention contraception otherwise. But from the look of shock he wore, he hadn’t had the first clue. “The Third Ward’s the poorest,” I told him. “Madra’s health advisors decided that we shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, otherwise we wouldn’t be able to support ourselves. The policy’s been in effect for over a hundred years. Seven out of every ten female babies are tagged when they’re registered with the ward officials.” I showed him the small black cross
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This was Fisher’s moment to have a speck of humanity and he dropped the ball. Also, leaving the contraception to the females….
