Pamela Sargent - Fears

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FEARS

Pamela Sargent

A single scientific discovery can effect great changes in our history, as Pamela Sargent shows in this quietly

powerful story of a not-very-distant future in which a pill has been perfected that enables parents to choose the sex

of their children. What might that ability do to the structure of society?

Pamela Sargent has edited the Women of Wonder antholo-gies, and has written such novels as The Sudden Star

and The Alien Upstairs. Her new novel, Venus of Dreams, will be pub-lished this fall.

I was on my way back to Sam's when a couple of boys tried to run me off the road, banging

my fender a little before they sped on, looking for another target. My throat tightened and my

chest heaved as I wiped my face with a handkerchief. The boys had clearly stripped their car to

the minimum, ditching all their safety equipment, knowing that the highway patrol was unlikely

to stop them; the police had other things to worry about.

The car's harness held me; its dashboard lights flickered. As I waited for it to steer me back

onto the road, the engine hummed, choked, and died. I switched over to manual; the engine was

silent.

I felt numb. I had prepared myself for my rare journeys into the world outside my refuge,

working to perfect my disguise. My angular, coarse-featured face stared back at me from the

mirror overhead as I wondered if I could still pass. I had cut my hair recently, my chest was

still as flat as a boy's, and the slightly padded shoulders of my suit imparted a bit of extra bulk.

I had always been taken for a man before, but I had never done more than visit a few

out-of-the-way, dimly lighted stores where the proprietors looked closely only at cards or

cash.

I couldn't wait there risking a meeting with the highway patrol. The police might look a bit

too carefully at my papers and administer a body search on general principles. Stray women

had been picked up before, and the rewards for such a discovery were great; I imagined

uniformed men groping at my groin, and shuddered. My disguise would get a real test. I took a

deep breath, released the harness, then got out of the car.

The garage was half a mile away. I made it there without enduring more than a few honks

from passing cars.

The mechanic listened to my husky voice as I described my problem, glanced at my card,

took my keys, then left in his tow truck, accompanied by a younger mechanic. I sat in his office,

out of sight of the other men, trying not to let my fear push me into panic. The car might have to

remain here for some time; I would have to find a place to stay. The me-chanic might even

offer me a lift home, and I didn't want to risk that. Sam might be a bit too talkative in the man's

presence; the mechanic might wonder about someone who lived in such an inaccessible spot.

My hands were shaking; I thrust them into my pockets.

I started when the mechanic returned to his office, then smiled nervously as he assured me

that the car would be ready in a few hours; a component had failed, he had another like it in the

shop, no problem. He named a price that seemed excessive; I was about to object, worried that

argument might only provoke him, then worried still more that I would look odd if I didn't

dicker with him. I settled for frowning as he slipped my card into his terminal, then handed it

back to me.

"No sense hanging around here." He waved one beefy hand at the door. "You can pick up a

shuttle to town out there, comes by every fifteen minutes or so."

I thanked him and went outside, trying to decide what to do. I had been successful so far; the

other mechanics didn't even look at me as I walked toward the road. An entrance to the town's

underground garage was just across the highway; a small, glassy building with a sign saying

"Marcello's" stood next to the entrance. I knew what service Marcello sold; I had driven by the

place before. I would be safer with one of his employees, and less conspicuous if I kept

moving; curiosity overcame my fear for a moment. I had made my decision.

I walked into Marcello's. One man was at a desk; three big men sat on a sofa near one of the

windows, staring at the small holo screen in front of them. I went to the desk and said, "I want

to hire a bodyguard."

The man behind the desk looked up; his mustache twitched. "An escort. You want an

escort."

"Call it whatever you like."

"For how long?"

"About three or four hours."

"For what purpose?"

"Just a walk through town, maybe a stop for a drink. I haven't been to town for a while,

thought I might need some company."

His brown eyes narrowed. I had said too much; I didn't have to explain myself to him.

"Card."

I got out my card. He slipped it into his outlet and peered at the screen while I tried to keep

from fidgeting, expecting the machine to spit out the card even after all this time. He returned

the card. "You'll get your receipt when you come back." He waved a hand at the men on the

sofa. "I got three available. Take your pick."

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