Left on the Steps

“You found him?”

“On the front steps.” Haschen glanced at the video feed where a girl lay dead at the gates, the torn hem of her ragged dress fluttering in the wind. The bundle in his arms was wrapped in a thin patchwork blanket and was strangely silent.

“Let me see him.”

Haschen parted the folds of the blanket, shifted the bundle awkwardly. A pair of big brown eyes peered myopically out at the world. A chubby little fist waved free. The baby had wisps of dull brown hair and a wide, toothless smile. A happy baby, unaware of his circumstances.

“And no one seeks him?”

“Mastermind scanned the bearer,” Haschen said. “The infant is illegitimate and the bearer had a falling out with her family - no one even knows he’s alive.”

“Perfect. And The Biokinetic says...?”

Haschen stared down at the baby. “He’s an ink-bearer.”

“Have one of the Matrons fix a bassinet in the Vault. Ensure he’s fed and changed at appropriate times.”

“And if he cries? Shall we assign him a nurse?”

“He’ll learn not to cry.”

(181 words)