PART ONE - OVUM
It took courage to walk to the Conception Centre for the first time. Rhea's uniform was little more than a wispy white robe, sheer like a hospital gown but with a more flattering cut and practically translucent. Even clutching it shut, her slim figure was visible in silhouette through the fabric, her slender legs and lean abdomen meeting at wide supple hips, her nipples pressing out against the cotton. She wasn't even afforded shoes. It took her a while of psyching herself up in the mirror before she could even bring herself to go outside.
Traipsing from the dorms over to the main building meant crossing through the square, a vast indoor space with groups of people moving hurriedly in straight lines that seemed to cut across every conceivable path. Their eyes were on her, every woman scanning her bare skin as she sped head-down towards the round glass building. They whispered as she passed, "New Seeder-girls today", eyeing her with smiles and staying clear out of respect.
She walked up the concrete white steps to the main building: 'The Conception Centre', though no-one in her cohort called it that. Most referred to it as 'The Ovum', and being inside the blue glass of the great dome it felt fitting. She saw a familiar circle of girls dressed like her, all huddled loosely in the lobby in their white translucent gowns. This was really happening. Some were anxious as she was, sullenly hugging what little fabric they had tightly around their bodies, shifting their weight from one foot to the other in anxious silence. Others stood proud in their near-nakedness, excited and exuding enviable confidence. Throughout training Rhea had been surprised to meet girls that were actually looking forward to seeing a man for the first time. They saw it as a privilege to see a real one. Many of the girls saw this role - the calling to be a "Seeder" - as some great privilege. Rhea could understand neither viewpoint, with no desire to see the muscle-twisted hairy form of one of these beasts. She preferred the rather mythical existence she had given them before coming here.
To keep from another episode of hyperventilating, Rhea tried to focus on any aspect of normality in the atrium. It was nice to be surrounded by fully dressed people for the first time after weeks of exigent training. Women talked in hurried clusters of nurses and doctors, as staff ferried patients in purple gowns to their appointments. There was no music, but there was a pleasant hum of discourse between colleagues, and the palpable air of excited apprehension from the patients. Rhea's ear tuned in on one woman's conversation with the receptionist at the front counter.
"I'm happy to wait, I just wondered how long the nurse will be?" asked the lady politely, despite drumming her fingers impatiently on the cover of her book.
"She won't be long ma'am," replied the receptionist, doing her best to mask her irritation, "I could get you some tea while you wait if you like?" Rhea had overheard the staff joking about how much they hated to make hot drinks for patients, but that it was often the best way to keep them placated. Most people's ability to wait dwindled once they were without their phone. No devices were permitted in the vicinity.
The lady cast her eyes over to the empty teapot to the side, and despite a longing look she shook her head, smiled politely and sat back down.
It had taken a while for Rhea to get used to being without her phone too. No computers, no screens. Paper was so unusual to see in the everyday world but here it was in abundance, stacks of it on every surface. The world inside The Ovum was a bubble from the outside world by design, and Rhea felt alien. This was a bastion of purity that was meant to be revered, but to Rhea it just felt like an impossible standard was always being imposed.
Finally the Matriarchs arrived, greeting them and starting to select a few girls at a time to shepherd off down the hallway. One tapped her shoulder lightly and Rhea flinched. She was always picked first: the curse of being a redhead - an increasingly rare genetic event by today's standards, nearly as rare as birthing a boy. The tall tight-lipped Matriarch regarded her with interest, admiring the smattering of peach freckles along Rhea's pale skin, sprinkled down her slight frame but most concentrated on the bridge of her nose and along her forearms. She felt fragile looking up at the imposing figure in her silvery blue Matriarch jumpsuit. The silky fabric was so fine and loose fitting that it bellowed and clung to her Amazonian frame as she moved. Her authority loomed, allowing her to be smiley and bright whilst simultaneously intimidating as she selected three other girls and then trudged down the corridor expecting them to follow.
Following the silvery blur of the Matriarch as she charged through the labyrinth, each girl was delivered to a door and shepherded inside until at last Rhea was brought to a room marked 'Male Four'. She waited impatiently for Rhea to open the door, then followed her in. Inside was a long windowless room, as sterile as the rest of the Conception Centre, but with the benefit of the natural light streaming in from the frosted glass ceiling. The walls were painted a smooth cool grey, the floor made up of large white tiles up to the centre, the rest of it padded like a gymnasium mat with glossy grey plastic. At the back of the room were large metal shutters, currently closed. To the right hand side of the room were a set of hooks built into the wall, a small bench and some bottles. On the opposite side was a sink, with a wooden bucket, towels and cloths laid out with a bag of toiletries. A woman was kneeling on one side of the mat facing away from them, silent and poised as Rhea came to kneel beside her, just as she had been trained to do.
"Ezett, this is Rhea." the Matriarch said, introducing them. Rhea gave her a quick sidewards glance and was rewarded with a warm smile. Ezett was dark-skinned, with fluffy curls tied back in a bun and sharp cheekbones. She looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties, but her skin had the softness of a much younger woman. Her swan-like shoulders were poised back, echoing confidence backed by experience, her robe hanging nonchalantly open. Modesty had become a luxury of the past to her. She was gorgeous, unsurprising as almost everyone selected to be a Seeder was attractive as a matter of course, but Ezett had a delectable petiteness to her. She was impeccable, from the perfected curve of her eyebrows, well-manicured hands and a trim frame with full pert breasts. They were quite similar in size, and Rhea found herself wondering if they might fit into the same clothes. She missed having clothes.
"Thank you ma'am," responded Ezett without hesitation.
