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conclusion. Although I can guess what it is, I feel like I ought to ask for the sake of politeness. ‘What’s the outcome?’
    ‘You decide that. I hear you want to go into composting. A useful occupation.’
    I stare at him, wondering why he drags it out, why he doesn’t give me the verdict at once. Something like, “You are a disgrace to our species; dig yourself a hole and rot.” Maybe he likes to play with his prey before he eats it.
    Unmoved by my silence, he continues. ‘Would you consider an apprenticeship as a Sequencer?’
    Is it possible to get a puke-reflex from too massive a bewilderment? Because that’s precisely how I feel right now. My hand claps over my mouth. Who knows what could slip out?
    A muffled squeal sounds from behind the kitchen door. I’m mortified, but he doesn’t even look in that direction.  
    ‘You are of age. It’s your decision, not your parents’.’
    Impossible. Impossible! ‘I have a lot of questions,’ I croak, while my useless brain echoes nothing but impossible .
    ‘Good. I do, too.’
    This man is a liar. I know it. No one in his right mind would offer me an apprenticeship in anything. ‘Did you send the physician and the nurse?’
    ‘I asked them to come, yes.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Dr. Volkov is a friend and I trust her judgement.’
    ‘What judgement?’
    ‘That you are healthy enough to go on extended hikes.’
    I nod, mostly to stretch my tense neck muscles and to give myself time to think. So he wants me to go with him to some place far away. My parents trust him. Or do they?
    He lowers his voice to a whisper. ‘And you cut yourself, and have a sense of humour even when humiliated in front of others.’
    I feel warm blood leaking on my makeshift shirt-pad. ‘You asked her to humiliate me,’ I manage to say.
    ‘Yes.’
    His honesty is unexpected. I open my mouth and snap it shut.
    ‘I wished to know how you’d react. You remained calm. You seem to be used to humiliation.’
    I feel trapped, manipulated, and ready to run away. I want to slap his face, or better, hit him over his head again, this time, with more force. But I all I do is hold on to my hands, place them in my lap, and stare at the wall.
    ‘There will be more tests,’ he continues. ‘Not like the ones at school, more like the one I did today. But no more humiliations.’
    When my gaze slips up to his bandage, he says, ‘There might be more of that, though.’
    ‘What did she say?’ I ask, not sure if I should be surprised that no one questioned the doctor’s identity. Zula might have said something, but still, he allowed her to do the final physical exams. Why?
    ‘Dr. Volkov?’
    ‘Yes. I want to know every word she said about me.’ My molars are grinding against each other, and I give the man the coldest stare I have in my repertoire. Having my secret exposed to a stranger is tough enough. But two strangers in the same day — one of which I might meet again — is too much for me to stomach.
    ‘What I said already. Why is it important?’ He seems irritated.
    ‘It is important to me. What precisely did she say?’
    ‘She said, “Micka is a quiet girl, she’s very healthy, she has a number of scars of which several are evidently self-inflicted, and she’s a late developer.”’
    ‘Why is it important that I’m a late developer?’
    ‘It’s not important.’
    ‘Why did she say it then?’
    ‘It might be relevant later. If you pass and become an apprentice, you’ll need a contraceptive implant. You want to avoid pregnancy, because you cannot be a Sequencer and a mother.’
    Like I ever want to have sex with anyone. ‘Is that all she said?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Do you have one?’
    ‘An implant? Of course I do. Why is that important?’  
    I wave his question away, lean back, and feel the heat drain from my face. She didn’t tell him what she saw on my back. ‘What happens if I say yes?’ I drag you into the forest and have you for breakfast .
    ‘You’ll live with your