Outside the Auction House, I line up behind the other wards, each grouped according to their bunk. Metal doors open and students go through in two lines.

The Auction House is a large oval room with a stage in the center. All the students are led to a wall of lockers where we’re instructed to change. Goosebumps rise on my arms and legs as I’m led to my pod’s section, where we each stand--feet together, arms straight--on a small circle with our ward number.

We’re all facing an analog display. There are several men with bulky cameras walking up and down the Auction House, getting close-up shots of the wards. They seem to focus on the more attractive ones. For a moment one of them stops to film me.

The auctioneer approaches a microphone, "This auction is open, let the bidding begin," His voice drones as if this is normal day for him. I guess it is.

Nothing is happening. A minute passes, then two. Finally the analog display starts to show a combination of letters and numbers. I look at my bunk's section. It’s still blank. But Jael’s bunk has some activity. Guards direct a girl to the auction block in the center of the room. Her lips are pursed and tears stream from her eyes. I recognize her. She’s the Sixth-Year I heard about whose meds got pulled a couple weeks ago.

No one wants to get sold as a Sixth-Year. Our value is lowest at our first auction, so only the worst bidders buy us. Our value increases every auction--providing that our grades and performance keep up--so the longer a ward can go without a bid, the better their chance of being sold to a decent bidder—unless of course they buy their way out first.

Soon, many other wards, all from different bunks, are led to the block. The camera men move around, focusing on certain ones. The auctioneer comes out and begins examining the wards, directing the cameras toward specific shots.

“We’ve already sent you her measurements,” he says into a device. He grabs the crying girl’s face and turns it, “Zoom in here” he directs. He passes along to another ward and examines her, she receives a bid. It’s quickly replaced by another. A second ward receives a bid, then a third and fourth. The others stand still and watch their numbers on the display.

“This bidding will end in 60 seconds,” he says.

The crying girl says something but I can’t hear it because her voice is shaking. The bidding restarts and quickly ends. The wards that were bought are guided to an exit behind the auctioneer.

Another session opens. I look at my bunk's section on the wall when three letters appear next to my name.

I look to Hiro, he looks surprised.

A pain builds in my stomach. It’s hard to breathe.

The auctioneer must be calling my number, but I can’t hear.

Hiro looks my way.

I can’t move.

It doesn’t matter, I’m led to the block anyway