Botanicaust

something, but Awnia batted it away, words tumbling from her mouth over and over. “ Baby … baby, baby … baby. ” That word seemed universal, for Levi understood.
    Another Blattvolk, a male draped in jewelry, came into the room, and the two green people argued before he swung an arm toward the woman prisoner. A strange device in his hand must ’ ve held a tranquilizer, because Awnia dropped to the floor of her cell.
    The Blattvolk exchanged sharp words, and there was no mistaking the sneer on the man ’ s face. He stalked down the exit hallway, and Tula bent over Awnia ’ s slumped body. After a few moments, she sighed and returned to Levi ’ s cell.
    “ Draw. ” It was the same word she had used before with his notebook, only now she held a flat, rectangular box through the bars.
    Rising to his feet, he approached and accepted the box. A small plastic stick rested in an indentation at the top. Unlike the drawing sheet she ’ d given him before, this machine was like a notebook. How he longed for something to draw with. This thing seemed a perversion of his longing, the sheets wiped so effortlessly clean.
    “ Whas ear name? ”
    Why did she care what his name was? Would talking to her speed his descent into Hell, or slow it down? He had no desire to offer his captors anything. He kept staring at the notebook.
    The Blattvolk who called herself Tula reached between the bars and removed the pencil from the box. A series of squares appeared on the screen, and she touched the tip of the pencil to the first one.
    Levi nearly dropped the device.
    The familiar visage of Sarah ’ s face had appeared, each pencil stroke indelibly burned into his brain from the day he had created the drawing. She appeared to be staring off the screen toward the Blattvolk woman, a minute smile playing at the corner of her lips.
    “ Sarah. ” He whispered before he thought.
    “ Sarah. ” The Blattvolk repeated. Again she touched the pencil to the screen and another of Levi ’ s drawings appeared. This time, the chubby face of Josef, his fist curled against one cheek as he slept.
    “ No. ” He thrust the notebook at the woman. Each breath seemed to require his complete attention. He stumbled onto the cot, wrapped his hands around the back of his neck and lowered his head between his knees.
    God was a cruel deity to torture him so.

    Vitus returned the tranquilizer to the compartment near the prison door. That woman ’ s screaming had disturbed him for the last four hours. He ’ d had enough of Tula ’ s little pet project. Ninety nine percent of the time adults were not viable converts, and why she insisted on wasting precious resources on these two was beyond him.
    Well, not really. She was a convert herself. She obviously had a soft spot for these pitiful excuses for human beings. And she ’ d pulled every trick in the book to keep these two alive after determining they were not a family unit. When he sent her the euthanization form, she dredged up some old policy stating all prisoners were granted ten days to prove worthiness for conversion.
    Absolute waste of time.
    However, her parting words a few moments ago hung over his head. “ I ’ ll take this to the Board, Vitus. It ’ s unethical. ”
    The Board was all about ethics. Like these animals deserved any ethics. Conversion was a privilege, not a right. If they converted every cannibal out there, humanity would end up no better than when the Botanicaust had occurred in the first place. Ungoverned greed had caused the planet ’ s downfall, and cannibals were nothing if not greedy. More food. More time. More space.
    No, the Conversion Department ’ s job was to screen potential converts and make sure only the most useful entered Haldanian society. Converts had to earn back the cost of conversion. The Board needed to recognize that. Tula kept letting marginal personalities pass conversion requirements.
    He pulled up her statistics on his computer screen. Seventeen percent reversion rate. Three percent required euthanization after conversion. Her numbers were barely within tolerances. One more failure and she ’ d be due for a reprimand.
    Maybe he could help that along.

“ B ut they ’ re children! You have to give me more time! ” Tula blocked the door to Vitus ’ s office. He ’ d just sent her the euthanization orders for Rhomy and Nika.
    Vitus sat at his desk illuminated by a circle of light from the fiber-optic daylight emitter in the ceiling. His