The License, Page 2

do?” A tear formed in the corner of her eye, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.

  The adminocrat picked up his digipen once more and mumbled, “Well… yes. I suppose it is difficult.”

  “And I’m not getting any younger. Shipment might take two years – if I’m lucky.” She sniffed and exaggeratedly dabbed at her eyes. “Two years? That puts me outside of the parenting age. I’ll be twenty-six…” She heard the adminocrat sigh sympathetically. “Four years is such a small window of opportunity to have a child, especially when there is so much to get in place before you can even apply for a licence. It costs a fortune to get the house certified. It’s okay if you’re really rich…” She stopped - wealth was another relevant consideration for obtaining a Parenting Licence, “I mean, really rich, like…with Equatorial contacts, or something...”

  “I’m sorry, Ms Monet, everyone is subject to the same requirements. You’ll have to take up your little dilemma with the Department for Families, Housing and Transport.”

  “I just want to have a baby,” she whispered, leaning forward over the desk and turning her face upwards to gaze into the adminocrat’s eyes. “Women used to be able to have children whenever they liked,” she said, delicately placing her hand over the adminocrat’s, “with whoever …”

  The adminocrat gave a nervous cough. “Well…, um…, that is…What are you suggesting, Ms …um…Claire, wasn’t it?” he blathered, clicking his digipen to the ‘off’ position.

  “It’s natural, isn’t it?” she continued, brushing her long smooth fingers across the adminocrat’s wrinkled knuckles. “It’s so difficult for a woman, these days… A real woman, I mean,” she paused, waiting for the adminocrat to make eye contact with her. “She’s expected to deny her whole evolutionary purpose, her … her true… desires.” She drew the adminocrat’s hand to her cheek and pressed it against her skin.

  She saw the perspiration pooled in the lines that age and bitterness had etched into his forehead and between his eyes, and she gently moved his clammy hand away from her face, fearing that her make-up would be spoiled. Suddenly, the adminocrat pulled his hands free of her gentle hold and clasped her head, pulling her towards him, mouth open to kiss her. She calmly prised his hands away from her head and placed them on her breasts. Not the hair, either, she thought.

  God! I haven’t asked his name - he hasn’t mentioned it, she thought in a panic. “You…you haven’t told me your name?” she simpered between kisses.

  The adminocrat drew away slightly and moved around the table to stand close to her. “I’m not supposed to give these to applicants,” he whispered, picking up a business card and handing it to her.

  “Well, Richard Croft,” she said, “When can we meet?”

  The adminocrat shuddered, and swallowed hard before sniffing loudly. “Tomorrow evening, perhaps?”

  “Make it sooner? My partner…he’s not…,” she brushed his groin with the back of her hand, “You know…?”

  “We’d better finish your licence application, hadn’t we, Claire?” He glanced up at the cameras, “Good thing they don’t work.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving furrows in their wake and then inhaled deeply to compose himself before sitting down once more.

  “I have my Child Rearing Certificates I and II here, and I have evidence of my enrolment in Certificates III and IV.” She pulled several documents from the folder in quick succession as the adminocrat ticked box after box, turning page after page. Handing him the documents, her hand lingered near his, and she smiled at him as he raised his eyes to look at her.

  “You’re not the first woman to do this, you know,” he chuckled. “No, I have quite a few women who would corrupt me!”

  “Are you above it?”

  The adminocrat stopped writing and smirked, “Some things can’t be regulated by licenses.” He looked thoughtfully at Claire. A little too much make-up for my taste, he thought as his eyes slid down her body, caressing her slender curves as they went. But then again…

  “You’ll need to sit the Personality and Intelligence Test, yet. I can’t help you with that.” He stamped and scanned the application form. “There you are, Ms Monet,” he said, handing the documents to her. “Just to let you know, in case you change your mind about this evening, I can void your application at any time.”

  “Of course,” she winked at him. She removed a small black device from her bracelet and tapped the screen three times before holding the miniature screen in front of the adminocrat’s eyes. “It’s a very good recording of our meeting, don’t you think? I’m just a little bit out of focus, but you’re very clear...”

  The adminocrat studied the young woman’s figure as she left the room, and nodded his head slowly with approval. “Who’s next?” he asked his digipen.

  “Andrew Farmer,” the robotic female voice hummed. “Deferral of Euthanasia Application.”

  The door to the interview room opened, and a burly, tanned sixty year old man tentatively entered the room.

  Five minutes later, the woman who had called herself Claire Monet exited the lift and joined a young couple waiting in the foyer of the building. During the elevator ride from the eleventh floor, she had removed her blonde wig and much of the excessive make-up she’d used to impersonate her client. The three huddled around the recording device and watched the footage of the meeting with Richard Croft.

  “He may still call on you, Claire,” warned the woman. “But I think he’ll realise he’s screwed when you remind him about the recording.”

  “I don’t know how you can do your sort of work? Letting him kiss you and…and feel you…,” the real Claire Monet cringed. “Thank you so much. I know I couldn’t have got through it.”

  “How much do we owe you, Ms Smith?” the boyfriend asked, holding out his credit card.

  “Two hundred credits, thanks,” said Ms Smith, taking the card and inserting it into her MEFTPOS machine. “I got through the GSOH problems okay, but you’ll have to do something about your Heating and Cooling Licence; apparently they’ve changed the legislation again.”

  “What about the Personality and Intelligence Test? Does the price include that?” asked the boyfriend, unhappily. It was a lot of credits to pay, despite it being less than the original quoted price.

  “I’m afraid you’re on your own for that.”

  Ms Smith watched as the couple passed through the swinging glass doors of the foyer and onto the street.

  “They were a nice couple. It’s nice to have helped them.” she smiled after them. She took her mobile phone from her pocket and pressed a key. “Another satisfied customer, Richard, my darling. Are you ready for lunch, yet?”

  “I’ll be down as soon as I’ve finished with this Deferral of Euthanasia Application, my love.”

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading my short story. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favourite retailer and, perhaps, send a link to your friends? I hope you may also enjoy some of my other short stories and first novel.

  Myfanwy Tilley.

  Short Story:

  Sons of Adam

  Party Animals

  The Cockroach

  Full Length Fiction:

  Psyche’s Garden