Them or Us

like a comic-book villain with burns covering almost exactly half of his face. I haven’t seen him around in a while. Just assumed he was dead. So what’s Hinchcliffe got him posted all the way out here for? My heart’s pounding suddenly, and this time it’s not because of the effort of the walk.
    “What is this place, Hinchcliffe?”
    “The solution to a couple of problems,” he replies, giving little away.
    “What problems?”
    “Regardless of what they turn out to be, we need people to keep having kids. Also, people need food and they have a need to procreate. So here they can fuck and be fucked for food. Sounds like some kind of screwed-up charity drive, eh?”
    I’m so taken aback by what I’m hearing that I don’t realize I’ve followed him into the building until we’ve already passed Chandra at the door and gone right inside. The air indoors smells stale. It’s quiet, and Hinchcliffe’s voice echoes off the walls.
    “Like it or not, my friend, kids are going to become a valuable commodity. I’m just trying to cover all the bases and keep control of the stock. All that most people are interested in today is staying alive, and they’ll do whatever it takes to achieve that. The women I’ve got here are willing to get pregnant for food, the men are more than willing to try to get them pregnant.”
    “So which is it? A brothel or a sperm bank?”
    “Both, I suppose!” He laughs, filling the building with his noise. “It’s hardly the love boat, if that’s what you mean, but it does the trick.”
    “There are no lines at the door. You’d have thought—”
    “Times have changed, mate. We’ve changed . Romance and relationships have gone right out of fashion since we all started killing each other, but people still need to fuck.”
    “But where is everyone?”
    “I’m being selective. You didn’t know about this place until now, and I tell you more than I tell most people. You have to detach yourself from what used to matter now, Danny. These are business decisions. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy your work, though!”
    “How far have we fallen if sex has just become a business decision?” I ask as we climb a twisting staircase that smells damp. Thin curtains have been draped over the windows, and the faint yellow light comes from infrequently spaced oil lamps.
    “Oh come on, don’t get all soft on me,” he groans. “People have been selling sex since year one. You have to face facts, we all do. This is how things have to be for now, and that’s why I’ve been selective with the people I’ve allowed to get involved in this so far. Better that a woman gets pregnant by someone who can still fight than by one of the losers drifting around out there outside the compound. If I started advertising this place there’d be a line of underclass men outside the door twenty-four/seven, desperate to sow their pathetic seed for a quick thrill and a half-decent meal. It’s tough and it’s not fair, but for now this is how it has to be.”
    “I don’t think it’s right.”
    “To be honest, pal,” he says, stopping at the end of a gloomy landing, “I don’t care. I didn’t bring you here because I wanted your blessing.”
    “So why did you bring me?”
    “Christ, why do you think?”
    “I don’t know … I…”
    “You’re not the strongest, Danny, but you’ve got brains, and I know you can fight when you have to. You’ve already fathered one kid like us.”
    He grabs my arm and pulls me farther down the corridor.
    “But I—”
    “You can come here anytime you want,” he tells me, pushing me toward an open door. Light spills across the landing. “The women leave their doors open when they’re ready. Everyone’s a winner here, you know. I give them double rations if they get pregnant, or I would if any of the useless cows had actually managed it.”
    My brain’s spinning, struggling to catch up with what’s happening, and my body is numb and unresponsive. I just stand there, staring into the hotel room, remembering the last time I was in a place like this. I remember looking for Lizzie, and I wish she was here today. The memory of her face fills me with pain. Despite everything that happened between us and what we both became, there’s a part of me that still clings to what we used to have and the family we made together. Hinchcliffe shoves me forward again, and I make a desperate, instinctive grab for either side of the door frame, not wanting to go