Donor 23 Read Online Free PDF

nations to consider, too. Those that managed to survive were rebuilding—and becoming stronger. The Alliance had trading relationships with many of them, but in this ever-transforming new world order, they could soon be adversaries—enemies.
    The Governor took a deep breath. After the Impact his great-grandfather had saved this segment of the continent. Hehad bravely taken the remnants of the civilization—the damaged states, cities, and communities—and formed them into the Alliance, bringing stability, legality, and safety to its citizens. The Alliance stretched for over a thousand miles, along almost the entire eastern seaboard of the continent, and extended westward for more than five hundred miles.
    It was the Governor’s responsibility to maintain and continue what his great-grandfather had begun. It was his responsibility to protect the citizens, his responsibility to keep the massive donor population under control, and his responsibility to prepare his successor. The security, safety, and future of millions rested on his shoulders.
    How important is it
? his wife had asked. He recalled what his grandfather had told him—something a poet or philosopher had written: “Empires have been built and destroyed by one strong heart.”
One strong heart
.
    He looked again at Joan, as she jogged across the field with her ponytail bouncing to and fro to match her gait. Whenever the Governor issued his pronouncements, gave his orders, and made his decrees, he used three simple, declaratory words.
    Popping an appetizer into his mouth, he uttered them now, “Make it so.”

4
    J oan sat on the bus to the ghetto, with her leg throbbing. Her head pounded, too. The day exhausted her.
    Tele-screens everywhere incessantly blasted out Alliance propaganda, and one at the front of the bus made a racket now.
    “OUR GLORIOUS ARMY FORCES IN THE NORTH HAVE BEATEN BACK YET ANOTHER ATTEMPT BY THE BARBARIANS OF THE OUTSIDE TO INVADE OUR HOMELAND…”
    As usual she tuned it out. Well, she tried to tune it out, but some always got through.
    She didn’t understand what happened today. Jack told 85 to report for shoulder surgery the next day. Then he told Joan privately to report to the medical center, too, for tests. She initially thought this was a good thing, but she perceivedapprehension in Jack’s voice—maybe even something more than mere apprehension.
    More people boarded the bus. Shifting carefully, she gingerly balanced herself on the seat, which sat precariously on two bars—only a couple of screws held it in place. There were no windows. Instead plastic sheets were taped and nailed up, but they flapped in the wind, blowing her hair as the bus drove.
    The Alliance had worked hard to get factories up and running, but the goods they produced were not to be wasted on donors. Factory products—steel, iron, textiles—were mainly for citizens, and any extras were traded with other nations. Donors and poorer citizens had to make do with using old cars and trucks, from the time before the Impact. They were held together and kept running by improvising, jerry-rigging, and cannibalizing other cars and trucks.
    A man on crutches hobbled down the aisle and sat next to her. Joan tried to relax and leaned her head against the window jam for the long ride home to the ghetto—back to the real world. The real world—a donor’s world—was one in which many people limped, used crutches… She thought ruefully that the poor condition of the bus was just like that of the donors.
    The System arranged it so that a donor lived a life of safety, contentment, and work. And most importantly, survived to be of use to their benefactors. Joan was lucky—lucky for a donor, that is. In Joan’s case, the doctors ensured none of her taxes had any permanent, debilitating effect. Because Joan’s benefactor was an athlete, Joan had to stay healthy and active. That way she could keep exercising and making donations to Tegan.
    This was not necessarily the