Mating Center by Frank Belknap Long

It seemed to monitor 6Y9 that an eternity had passed since she had picked herself up from the floor of the sterile-crib nursery and found herself alone. She could remember how she had felt at that moment -- the red blaze of fury that had danced before her eyes, the sickness at the pit of her stomach, the waves of nausea which had made her reel and almost fall to the floor again. She could remember all that very clearly. But the search that she had ordered conducted through every room in the center, that futile and fruitless search was a hazy blur in her mind. Her emotions had been so overpowering that they had almost blotted the details of that terrible failure from her waking mind at least, and if she remembered them at all it would be only in dreams, dreams from which she would awaken screaming and bathed in cold sweat.

She remembered more clearly the three faces on the lighted tele-screen, mocking her. The hated pair had eluded her vigilance and concealed themselves somewhere in the center until the terrible moment when they had appeared on the screen and stirred ten thousand men and women with their dark lies and accusations, blackening her character until she wanted to scream and could no longer endure what they were saying about her.