​​     Whisper, naked and hairless and newly born and dripping with Clean, stepped out of the fornication chamber into chaos. 

     What she saw astounded and stunned her.

​     Four guards passed, weapons drawn. 

     A couple ran down the hall, a man with an arm wrapped around a woman, both draped in robes. The woman screamed like her mind was on fire.

     Someone grabbed Whisper's arm.

​     Hard!

     Whisper screamed.

     The reaction to that?

     Slap!

     The man who'd grabbed her slapped her face!

     Hard!

     The shock of that paralyzed Whisper.

     Nothing within Whisper prepared her for that slap.

     Ow! That really hurt!

​     She stared wide eyed at the person who'd struck her.

     He, too, was naked, and he had the body of an Olympic athlete. 

     "What are you doing?" he roared at her. "Where's your john?"

     He had to be referring to Grelock. Whisper knew no one else.

     She pointed down the hall to the fornication chamber she'd left.

     "Look at you," the man went on. "You're still covered in...hold on. You're...what...you're a syn? You're a syn, aren't you?"

     "I, uh..."

     "How old are you?"

     "I, uh..."

     "You're a syn, and you're out of your fornication chamber, and that means you're contaminated." He grabbed her hand to drag her along with him.

     "You're coming with me. You're on your way to getting pulped, dear."

​END OF CHAPTER EIGHT

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