Several machines lined the wall at Rinn's back. Ian checked them all. Nothing moved. Nothing responded.

Rinn didn't respond either. Internally, he moaned in anguish. On the outside, he struggled not to break down. He'd seen her. She'd moved. It wasn't long but it was there. She moved. But now as he checked her over, he sat back, defeat.

The pulse was weak, barely there. His throat tightened at the grim realization that in his current condition, a miracle like her awakening was unlikely. A very real pain-induced hallucination wasn't.

But then how had she spoken? Asked a question?

And such a strange question.

A strip above the threshold of his door flashed yellow. He had a visitor. Although what he was about to do was more important, Ian dragged himself up to stand—he never got visitors.

Ian took the wobbly steps needed to reach the doorway. He put his hand against the wall and whispered the entry code. The steel slid back.

To his surprise, it was a medic—the yellow coat over her black uniform indicated as much.

Upon seeing Ian, the young doctor said, "Hello, do you remember me?"

Ian swallowed down his alarm. He remembered her—it was hard to forget these specs. The girl was nineteen, if that. Sabes, genetically enhanced humans, were nothing new in the Colony, but they were usually physically altered. Ian had never seen a doctor so young, but she must've had the intelligence to qualify for her job.

Being approached by a Sabe at random once was coincidence, twice was planned. It was never a good plan.

Ian thought about his unscrupulous bosses and the bounties on his head, and he wondered if the youth was dangerous.

The medic wore a look of unease forced into what amounted for a smile.

"I was at your evaluation when you tried to test," the woman said. She took one step to enter Ian's house and the door hummed and shot toward her. Once she yanked her foot from his doorway, the thick steel door paused.

The yelp she let out was justified. Eyes fixed on that door, she muttered, "By the Colony...."

"My house's secure," Ian warned her. "Anyone stepping in, ain't stepping out again. So back up."

Two big brown eyes tore away from the deathtrap of the steel and settled on him.

Instead of backing away, she managed a smile. Ian'd had enough. He put his hand on the wall to his right, ready to give the close command.

"My name's O'Rinn," the medic said. "Darcy O'Rinn. I'd like to keep you comfortable."

"Rinn?" The name made Ian take interest. That wasn't a name he expected to ever hear uttered again. "Did you say your name's Rinn?"

"O'Rinn," the medic corrected.

This time when Ian stared at her, he took her in. Her hair was even cut short, too. Like...like Rinn's. Same short brown hair, hazel eyes, full red lips.

"Rinn...."

"O'Rinn," she said again, firmer. "My name's O'Rinn. I'm here to keep you comfortable." She gestured to his hand. "The receptors react on adrenaline." Most tension faded from her body as she eased closer—as close as she dared. "Would you step out so we can talk?"

Ian dragged himself back to reality. He was in that house for a reason. Exhausting every possible avenue to get Rinn that poison came at a price. How convenient that this medic was here now to lure him out.

Instead of going closer, Ian took a step back.

His defiance caused her look of contentment to shift. It settled into a frown of sympathy. "At the evaluation, I watched you observing all those couples. Everyone there had someone—everyone but you. So when I saw that you were scheduled for an allotment of medicine, I decided to volunteer to bring it."

Medicine. Ian had his doubts, but he couldn't afford to pass up this chance.

"That way, you don't have to go into work for it."

Contempt pulsed through Ian and he said, "How thoughtful."

When he approached the medic, however, a shot of pain forced him to stop. It lasted so long that he braced himself on the threshold to keep upright.

"You poor man," she cooed. "Would you like to hold my hand?"

Ian dodged her grip, insulted. "What are you playing at? Don't touch me."

The medic swallowed hard. She didn't look much like Rinn—Rinn didn't wear makeup. Rinn also never had such a sultry expression as this woman did.

She reached out to hold his shoulder but stopped short and said, "The more you get worked up...."

Their gazes stayed locked for ages. Her name was Rinn...O'Rinn. What are the odds of meeting someone else with a name like that?

It wasn't Rinn. He had to remind himself of that. This wasn't Rinn. Rinn was never coming back.

"You left the evaluation before receiving your results," the medic said. "All that effort, and you didn't even stay. How terrible. I found your situation—um—unique. So I tagged your distress transmissions for safety reasons."

Ian raised a right eyebrow at her. "Safety reasons?"

"Sir," the medic began, "if you'd only let me enter. I'd then render any help I could." She let out a ragged breath, almost panting. "Anyway I could."

With that suggestive tone, Ian instead leaned away. "System, I've got a phony medic at my doorstep."

Ten seconds passed before the System announced. "Medic authenticated."

"Run a secondary authentication," the medic challenged.

The computer chimed. "Authorization required."

Ian didn't look up; he stared the medic down. "Authorization: Tellman, head of the house."

"Medic, touch any wall for secondary vetting."

This was the first time the medic wore a smug expression. She leaned back and put her left hand on the doorframe.

"Secondary vetting, confirmed."

It was real. She was a real medic.

That both calmed and disappointed him.

She held out a five-by-seven data tablet and scanned through it.

"I have the results here on diskette, should you need them."

He didn't.

"I didn't pass," Ian attested.

Diskette still extended, she shrugged. "But seeing the results could bring about closure." When he didn't move, she insisted, "And then I'll be out of your hair, confident that you're not...unhinged."

Unhinged? All fight faded from Ian as he regarded the diskette. "Is this some sort of suicide watch or something?"

The medic only gave him a weary smile and said, "This is a new courtesy we offer. Some people take it hard when they don't pass. The information on my diskette says you..." She consulted the thin five-by-seven-inch silver tablet in her hand. "Mr. Tell—Tellman, it says here you don't have any next of kin and your...wife is comatose, so you are a bit of a high risk."

Ian couldn't forgive the utterance of those words. He didn't need it anyone else to tell him, he knew it—he lived with it every day.

"I don't need no suicide watch."

The young woman didn't budge. "Are you saying you're not suicidal?"

Ian blinked at her.

"Medic, I'm an active Gui-ren," Ian warned. "Please back up.".

"I'm aware of that," she replied. "I have something for you."

Ian refused to focus on her, instead, he looked ahead.

"Here." She handed a small black bag over. "It's your allotment."

The pouch came into focus. When Ian met the medic's gaze, he saw a genuine enough smile but he didn't take it as such. His allotment. The only thing able to give him a few more days of life. Days of life to do what?

Take the allotment and stay here, keep his job, do some more underhanded shit in yet another desperate attempt of reviving Rinn. And he could keep doing it until there was no allotment left.

Or refuse it—refusing it would mean he was as good as dead, and Rinn.... A shiver ran through him and he reached for the bag before he could stop himself.

"Your forlorn expression is hard to bear," the medic lamented. "I'm giving you medicine. Why don't you regard it as such?"

"Yeah, you look cheerful as ever giving it, too," he admonished.

The medic colored. "I'm sorry if I look nervous. Wouldn't you be if you were talking to a man with the equivalent of two bombs strapped to his hands?"

She said it. She said the one thing he knew to be her focus.

"So you come all this way...sections away from that eval. An actual medic. A medic with a job to do, to what? To give me something that's none of your business? I ain't buying it." At her silence, he said, "And don't tell me it's to sweet talk a man with two bombs on him."

O'Rinn regarded him in sympathy. "I don't deny that my interest is...unconventional. And I admit, I didn't choose this profession for safety's sake. I'm attracted to the unexpected. You were unexpected. You fascinate me. And yes...." She chocked her head to the right, eyes scanning him up and down. "You are a force I'm more than curious about."

Ian grunted, annoyed.

"And you find that impossible to believe? A beautiful woman's at your door looking to keep you company and your first reaction is to be on guard. Don't you get tired? Isn't it so exhausting to always be alone?"

Teeth gritted, Ian counter, "I ain't alone."

O'Rinn glanced past him to Rinn's unresponsive body. Rather than state the obvious, she brought the data diskette into his viewpoint.

Small pouch of pills in hand, Ian looked up from it to the five-by-seven data tablet she held out to him.

"Here. It makes no sense if you'll panic once I leave. So let's look at the results together."

He snatched it and scrolled through the symbols. Once he reached his own name, his heart stopped. The report terrified him.

He shook his head, crushed by the results. Blue? What. The. Hell? I passed?

His chest felt heavy.

Ian searched himself for some fitting emotion, but he came up empty.

He'd passed to be ELETE—a Colony enforcer. This job would mean life.

ELETE. He'd been accepted on his first try.

Slowly, his past criminal record ran through his mind.

A warm hand slipped into Ian's grip. He half mistook it for his imagination—in his line of work, getting close to others was never an option.

The medic.

Ian thought to let go but instead he squeezed, grateful for the gentle show of affection. It'd been ages since he felt warm skin. Her soft hand contrasted greatly with his calloused hold.

He passed.

"You...." She took a ragged breath. Although she didn't step inside, he was close enough for her to hold onto him. "You don't have to worry. I'm here. Before you take the results harshly, please consider that the ELETE enforcers get at least two hundred qualified applicants each term, but only about twenty pass. Some spend years retaking the test. And I'm ready and willing to take the sting off...even physically should you require solace."

Stunned, Ian let her go. You don't even know my name to read my score. Ian stared at her long and hard, heart pounding so fast he could hear it in his ears.

But the System said she was authentic. No way those low lives could infiltrate the Colony. It's flawless. So either something's wrong with the Colony, or something's wrong...with me. I'm the one who's nuts.

And he was nuts. The bastards he usually ran with would sooner cut his throat than allow him to join the authorities. How was he supposed to get out of here to join them? He wouldn't get two tunnels in before finding a projectile lodged in his skull.

The doctor blinked at him.

"Are you all right?" the medic asked.

Ian didn't know. Everything in him said to play it off but he couldn't summon up any words. It was by luck this idiot medic didn't mark his files as a pending ELETE hire—it'd be a death sentence. A faster one, anyway. His chances of passing had been so low he hadn't waited at the eval center—nobody passed the first time.

Idiot.

That was the reason eval and hire happened the same day. Someone with a record like his wasn't making it back at that place. He had to get rid of this medic before anyone knew of his "good fortune" and came for his head.

"Sir," the medic entreated him, "I am here to help you. And I am dedicated in doing whatever necessary to provide you relief. Why won't you allow that? I can spot a lost cause in seconds, but you—"

"How do you plan to come get me?" Ian challenged, calling her bluff.

Her expression softened and she whispered, "Don't just give up. You have your allotment."

He tried to toss it back and she raised both hands and stepped away.

"Okay. Don't do anything hasty. You need this." Defeated, she bowed her head. "I'll leave you be."

It was the longest minute of Ian's life. The medic traveled the hall and turned the corner. Once she was gone, Ian felt sicker. He allowed the door to close and slid to the floor with his back against it.

No lost cause. Cough and give someone a reason to check his records and they might see that damn ELETE score—there'd be no end to the bounty hunters. In his left hand, the pouch of medicine taunted him. There was no leaving this boss now. He'd need this medicine from this day forward due to his blunder three days prior.

He could do it. He could keep going on like this...for five more years—ten more years. Forever.

Instead of throwing that pouch on the floor, he dragged his bag by the doorway close and tossed it in. Forever. He could keep doing this forever until one day his luck ran out.

His luck ran out? It already had.

When he picked his head up, it was to ask for confirmation from his ever sleeping companion. There had been days where he'd simply stare at her for hours. Today, however, it wasn't his imagination. She was staring back.

Lips parted, Ian rose to his feet like a puppet on a string. "You are awake."