The Children of Armageddon

(1)

The wake system engaged at precisely six AM and began its programmed routine. It signaled the window blinds to open, allowing the low morning sun to penetrate the eyelids of its sleeping owners. When that didn't work, it turned on the music system and played some mellow jazz. Its sensors detected no movement from either of the two bedroom occupants that would indicate they were awake. After 15 minutes of periodically increasing its volume, the system picked an ancient raucous head banging rock song while simultaneously increasing the volume to level eight.

Bobby bolted up in bed and searched with both arms for the alarm sensor. He waved his arms furiously trying to break the plane of the sensor that would signal the wake system to turn off the obnoxious noise. Finally, his frantic gestures found one of the sensors' invisible beams and the music stopped. Bobby grabbed his throbbing head between his cool hands and fell back onto his pillow.

He turned to his partner who was still curled up under the blanket, fast asleep, with his back towards him.

“Wake up Sam,” Bobby said, “Get the hell up.” The lump underneath the bed covers began to stir.

“How many times have I asked you to fix the goddamn wake sensors?” Bobby asked irritably. He gave Sam a light punch in the small of his back to emphasize the remark.

“Wa-What?” Sam replied still half asleep. He rose onto an elbow and looked behind him at Bobby. Sam’s long brown hair almost completely covered his face. His eyes were red and his lips were cracked from dehydration.

“You don’t look so good Bobby,” Sam said, with a rye smile.

“Your no beauty this morning either,” was Bobby’s meager comeback, “I’ve got to take a pee. Get out of bed! You’ll be late for work.”

Bobby stood up a little too quickly and had to grab the bedpost to keep steady. He ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He pulled up his nightshirt and sat on the toilet seat to relieve his full bladder of the accumulated fluid from the two, maybe three, bottles of wine he and Sam drank last night.

They had celebrated receiving their certificate from the Procreation Council. After a two-year wait, much shorter than the usual four to five years, they finally obtained approval of their petition to conceive and bear a child. Bobby couldn’t have been happier.

Bobby rose from the toilet and walked the two steps to the sink. The toilet’s proximity sensor signaled the flush valve to open. The sink’s faucet turned on as Bobby approached and he dipped his cupped hands under the tepid water. He slashed some on his face in a vein attempt to reduce the throb around his temples.

Bobby striped off his nightshirt and called out to Sam in the adjoining bedroom. “I’m taking a shower now, be just five minutes.”

“That’s OK baby, I’ll shower at the precinct,” Sam replied, “Bobby, where are some clean bras? Got one, never mind. Have to run hun. See ya tonight.” Bobby could hear frantic movements in the bedroom as Sam quickly threw on his civvies, what he called his street clothes, grabbed his stun gun and badge jacket and ran down the apartment hall and out the door.

Sam was a peace officer for the city of New York police department. It was a steady job with decent pay. Coupled with Bobby’s schoolteacher’s salary, they made a decent living together, enough to satisfy the council that they had a stable lifestyle and could afford to raise a child.

Bobby stepped into the shower and immediately allowed the warm water to run over his head. The water felt good and he began to lose the fuzziness from his brain. He grabbed the soap and ran the bar over his body. He quickly soaped his face, neck and breasts but paused a few moments when he got to his belly. Bobby looked down at his stomach through the sheet of water cascading off his auburn, shoulder length hair. “Soon there will be a new life growing in here,” he thought. Then he remembered that he would have to make an appointment today with his assigned obstetrician before their window of opportunity closed for impregnation. The PC gives only one year for the pregnancy to take. They had to begin right away.

(2)

Bobby sat behind his desk at the front of his eight-grade honors history class. He taught at the Harriet P. Goodwin School for advanced placement students. His students were arriving and settling into their desks, each one sitting in the seats they were assigned at the beginning of the school year. The students at this school are the future leaders and policy makers for world government or business. Bobby was proud that he, albeit in a small way, helped shaped the future by educating its leaders. The chime sounded over the loudspeaker denoting the start of seventh period.

Bobby addressed the class after they had all settled down for work, “Ok everyone, enable your slates and locate your data from last night's assignment on the aftermath of the Biotech War.”

The students tapped the touch screen of their learning slates and accessed all the information they had downloaded the night before from their home information portals. Bobby had just spent the last couple of days teaching them about the violent times of the 21st century.

The Biotech War began 124 years ago in the 2060s. It was the climax of a slow escalation of religious based wars that began with acts of terrorism and ended with the extinction of all human, and chimpanzee, males on the planet. Over the first half of the 21st century, since the declaration of war on terrorism, the world’s leaders became increasingly ruthless in their pursuit of religious fanaticism and the terrorists that it bred. Ironically, in the process, the planet became fractured along lines of religious beliefs. States, founded on religions beliefs before the eruptions, became fanatically intolerant of religious diversity. Secular states became de facto religious, losing any distinction between the government and the prevalent religious convictions of its constituents.

Fundamental zealots controlled the reins of all the major powers and trust completely broke down between the world’s governments. Small and large wars broke out between nations; each one convinced they had God on their side. As events unfolded, the majority of people came to believe that Armageddon was approaching, which further strengthened the political grip of the world’s religions. Some self-proclaimed atheists attempted to promote peace, but were quickly routed out by all sides.

Somehow the world avoided an all out nuclear exchange, but small nuclear, chemical and biological weapons were deployed and used throughout that time. Biological weapons became favored by mid-century. Due to advances in genetic engineering, scientists were able to develop very specific microbes for targeted groups. The island of Great Britain was almost decimated by a fast acting encephalitis, when billions of genetically enhanced misquotes infected with a genetically enhanced stain of the virus were released by the Islamic Jihad Coalition.

“Ok, we’ll start with an easy one,” Bobby said, “Who can tell the rest of the class the major outcomes of the Biotech War.” The entire class raised their hands. Bobby searched for one of his more reserved students. “Ok, James.”

James rose from his seat to answer the question. He was a plane looking child with a lightly freckled face and long red hair that was kept back in a tight ponytail. “Well, one major outcome was the extinction of all male humans and the de-genderization of the human species. Another was the adoption of International Cooperation Treaty of 2082.”

“Very good James,” Bobby said. James sat back down and flashed a shy smile. “Jill, can you tell me how males became extinct?” asked Bobby of a pretty petite child in the second row.

“Because they were all violent morons.” Jill quickly responded. The class giggled at Jill’s answer.

“No Jill. That may be why they’re gone. I want to know how.”

“The Christian Armageddon Army scientists made a deadly virus that would only infect males,” answered Jill this time correctly.

“What was their plan?” Bobby asked trying to encourage Jill to give a more complete answer.

Jill continued, “They were at war with the Muslims who would only allow males to fight. I guess they thought that if they could kill enough of the males they would win. They released the virus and it worked. Only it worked too well. The virus caused a world epidemic and within five or six years all adult males everywhere were dead and the immature males died as soon as they reached puberty. In a little over a decade all human males were extinct.”

“Very good Jill. You can sit down now,” Bobby said with a nod.

Bobby saw a hand waving in the back of the class. “Yes, Marty do you have something to add?”

Marty stood to clarify Jill’s answer. “Jill omitted the most important reason for male human extinction,” Marty said with a self-righteous demeanor, “It was the work of God. That’s how they all died.”

Bobby closed his eyes and immediately regretted allowing Marty to speak on this subject. His family was members of a particularly evangelical faction of the Theoevolutionist. The Theoevolutionist religion is by far the predominate religion in the Greater North American Region. In fact, it was the most prominent in the world. They believed that God made human males for purposes of reproduction only, like the animals and some plants. Separate sexes were only necessary until humans evolved the intelligence to reproduce outside the body through the use of technology.

The Theoevolutionist believed that the Biotech War was God’s tool to allow humankind to continue to evolve into higher forms of being, by ridding the world of the male genetic contaminates. Bobby shared this view, but from a purely secular perspective, and was not sure about God’s part in the events of the 21st century, certainly not to the extent that Marty’s fellow parishioners believed. Marty’s church was known for carrying the Theoevolutionist vision to an extreme. Bobby decided to quickly stop his pending diatribe or it would go on all period.

“I appreciate your desire to make your point Mr. Martin,” Bobby said, needing to be abrupt but not discourteous, “but I think this conversation is better left for your theology class. We need to cover a lot of ground today. Is that O.K. with you?”

Marty nodded and sat down satisfied that he, at least, made his point.

“Now someone give me some major points from the International Cooperation Treaty of 2082,” Bobby said, throwing out the challenge to his class, “Ok Rica, your turn.”

Rica rose and began to rattle off his answer. “The treaty changed the way nations dealt with each other. The treaty required cooperation between nations instead of competition. The world’s resources had to be shared by all and not hoarded by the few. It stated that all governments must be secular, champion religious freedom and must be open and allow for the free movement of all citizens. It required worldwide demilitarization and a total ban on warfare and offensive weapons. All citizens had to strive to be tolerant of others and to nurture each other. It also lists a number of civil rights: the right to a decent home, the right to make a living, the right to good health care, the right of free speech, the right to education to ones ability and the right to bear and bring up healthy children. There were also agreements to maintain a single sex society and de-genderize all the world’s languages.”

“That correct Rica,” said Bobby, which wasn’t a surprise since Rica was his star student. “Why was it important to maintain a single sex culture and de-genderize language? Beth?”

“Maleness equals violence,” answered Beth. Beth remained seated. Bobby thought he was a bit of a rebel. However, he was very intelligent and otherwise well behaved so he not push him all the time to comply with class decorum. “Male-like ideas and destructive behaviors almost destroyed the planet. Their competitive nature permeated everything and contaminated thought through language. The language was split along gender lines as a way of subjugating what they called women. For example, the word “women” was a derivative of “men” implying that women weren’t really men. The de-genderization of language promotes cooperation instead of competition and understanding instead of conflict.”

“Good answer Beth,” said Bobby. It wouldn’t surprise Bobby that if one day Beth became a Counsel Minister. “Any questions before we pick up from here?” The class didn’t respond.

“O.K. then, access the System of Councils on your slates” Bobby began his lecture when everyone appeared ready.

“The System of Councils developed some decades after the adoption of the International Cooperation Treaty of 2082. After the turn of the 22nd century, individual states began to dissolve in favor of a total world government based on the doctrine outlined in the Treaty. The world government, we now call 'Mother', is a collective of numerous councils. Each council has seven to twenty one council ministers and each has responsibility for one or more of the principles in the Treaty. The chief councils are: The Executive Council, The Education Council, The Economic Council, The Health Council, The Freedom Council, and the Procreation Council.” He suddenly remembered to call the local PC for an appointment.

Bobby looked at the timer on his slate. Class was nearly over so he began to speed things up. “Each council is antonymous, but over all policy and laws are made and enforced by the Executive Council and the ten thousand and one elected representatives from around the world. Can you all tell me what we call the seven Executive Council ministers?”

“The Mother Councilors,” the entire class shouted in unison just as the end of school tone chimed.

“Tonight I want you to research some of the original council ministers, especially our schools name sake, Mr. Harriet.” Bobby had to talk fast and loud to be sure everyone heard him over the din of the swift exodus.

(3)

Bobby and Sam sat in the generically appointed waiting room of Dr. Roberto, an obstetrician from the local PC. Sam sat cross-legged flipping idly through one of the baby magazines thrown randomly around the waiting room. Bobby watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. He worried that Sam was not as excited about having a child as he was. He had seemed half-hearted about the idea since the day Bobby asked him what he felt about having a baby together.

Sam had to be practically dragged the PC office to submit the application and he made it abundantly clear to Bobby that he would not be one to carry the baby. He blamed the job, but Bobby felt that that was just an excuse. He knew of a few of Sam’s co-workers who bore children. But that didn’t really bother Bobby. He had always wanted to bear children and it would have been much worse for their partnership if Sam also felt the same way.

A medical assistant poked his head out of the office door and announced to the half dozen people in the waiting room, “Mr. Robert and Mr. Samuel?” Bobby quickly rose to his feet and tugged at Sam’s arm. Sam stood and followed Bobby into the medical office and down the hall to a small examination room.

“I need both of you the strip off your clothes and get into these robes, please,” said the assistant as he pulled two blue hospital gowns out of a draw and handed both to Sam.

“I think calling these robes is a bit of a stretch,” Sam quipped as he unfolded the flimsy cloth and held it open in front of him. The assistant ignored Sam’s remark, left the room and closed the door.

A few minutes after they changed, the door opened and a pleasant looking person in a white knee length smock entered. He had a stethoscope folded in his breast pocket and a slate under his arm.

“Hello, I am Dr. Roberto. How are you two today?” he pleasantly asked. Both Sam and Bobby nodded and mumbled “fine” in reply to the doctor’s question. The doctor gestured to two cafeteria-style seats placed side-by-side in a corner of the room.

“Have a seat and let’s chat a bit.”

Dr. Roberto sat on a wheeled stool and studied the slate screen as Bobby and Sam made their way to the seats.

“So you just obtained approval for a child.” Dr. Roberto said with a generous smile, “Let me explain the procedure to you and if you have any questions just chime right in.” Bobby sat erect, both hands on his knees, attentive to the doctor’s every word.

“First I will give both of you a physical. It’s a prerequisite for the surgical procedures,” the doctor said keeping eye contact with both patients, “By the way, who will be the donor parent and who will be the bearer parent?”

Sam beat Bobby to the punch. “Bobby will be the mom,” He said pointing his left thumb in Bobby’s direction. Bobby face lit up at the thought of someone calling him Mom.

It was only in Bobby and Sam’s lifetime that the use of “Mom” or “Mother” became accepted. It has been tradition for a child to call his parents by their informal names since the language had been de-genderized. However, the unofficial and often underground use of the title stuck. Bobby called his bearer parent Mom but only in private. In company he called him Ruth. When Bobby was a teenager there was a proclamation from the Sub-Council for Language De-genderization announcing the acceptability of “Mother”. After all, the Executive Council Ministers were called Mother. It was unreasonable to keep it from common use.

The use of the word “Dad” for the donor parent is still verboten. It brings with it too many male connotations, although, Bobby was quite used to the word. His parents considered themselves liberal and taught Bobby to call his donor parent Dad but only in the strictest privacy. The term “Father” is taboo, but it is used commonly as a profane swear word by the youngsters and has no usage or implied connection to procreation.

In recent years, however, there has been a drive to accept the term “Dad” to refer to the donor parent. Mother Rebecca, one of the Executive Council Ministers, has been quite vocal about the acceptance of its use. He feels that if we accept a special name for the bear parent there should be a special name for the donor parent to promote family cohesiveness. Mother Rebecca is himself the donor parent of three. Professionals, like Dr. Roberto, maintained the formality of “donor” and “bearer” parents.

“Ok, Bobby,” Dr. Roberto said while he tapped Bobby’s name into the slate’s memory, “Let’s talk about the procedure. I know you learned about this in high school health, but I’m required to review it with you now.”

Dr. Roberto described the entire procedure in detail. After a quick exam to assure that both patients were healthy enough to endure the procedure, eggs would be extracted from Sam and Bobby’s ovaries with a micro fine needle. He assured them that they would not feel anything, not even a pinprick. They would harvest about a dozen eggs from each person and deliver them to the in-vitro lab for fertilization. The donor eggs’ nuclei would be removed, chemically treated and micosurgically implanted into the cytoplasm of the bearer’s eggs. The two nuclei would merge within an hour. They should get about a half a dozen fertilized eggs, or zygotes, out of the procedure. The zygotes would be incubated for a few days then cryofrozen in liquid nitrogen until implantation into the bearer parent’s uterus. The usual procedure was to implant two embryos. There was a 90% probability that one of the embryos would not develop and would abort. If they both aborted, then they would try again with two more of the embryos three months later. It was a given and there was no need and no way to say it, that the resulting fetuses would always be female because both parents have only the X chromosome to donate.

“Will this all this happen today?” Sam asked with some trepidation.

“If your up to it, yes,” replied the doctor.

“I am if you are?” Bobby excitedly asked, turning his head toward Sam.

“Sure, I guess,” answered Sam, “Will I be able to go to work? I had to trade for the graveyard to come here today.”

“The exam and harvest will only take two hours,” assured the doctor, “Then you can go home or to work after you make an appointment for the implantation.”

Dr. Roberto looked at both his patients for a few moments. When he didn’t receive any objections, he said, “Ok then, let’s get on with it.” He stood up and told Sam to stay in the room and led Bobby to an exam room across the hall.

(4)

Bobby sat at the kitchen table struggling with the childproof cap covering the bottle of neonatal vitamins he was supposed to take once a day after breakfast. Sam was sitting across from him watching Bobby’s torment.

“Why don’t you just dump those pills into a baggie?” Sam asked with obvious annoyance, “You go through this every morning.”

“How would you know? We hardly have breakfast together,” came Bobby’s irritable reply.

Sam cocked his head and looked at him with aggravation and some surprise.

“I’m sorry Sam I’m just feeling…. I don’t know.”

“Pregnant?” Sam said with a sly smile, “That’s ok hun. I understand.” Sam got up, walked over to Bobby and gave his head a hug.

Bobby had worried how Sam would react to his pregnancy even though he willingly participated in the ordeal of conception. But lately, as Bobby began showing and swelling, Sam had become very attentive. He helped more around the apartment and was often concerned about Bobby’s comfort and safety. They would relax together on the sofa after dinner and cuddle while watching the vid. Sam would sometime rub Bobby’s feet and they would talk about the baby or work or their future. This was definitely the right decision. The baby was bringing them closer than they have ever been.

“I’ve got to go to work Bobby and you better get moving too or you’ll be late for your appointment,” said Sam breaking away from Bobby. “Sorry I can’t go with you this time babe. See ya tonight”

Sam gave Bobby a peck on the top of his head and left for work. Bobby finally opened his vitamins and swallowed one with his orange juice.

(5)

Bobby arrived at the Procreation Council office complex about five minutes late and was immediately ushered into one of Dr. Roberto’s examination rooms for his scheduled sixth month exam. Bobby was directed to change into a gown and lay on the exam table by a curt nurse. A few minutes later Dr. Roberto entered wheeling in some kind of medical instrumentation.

“Hi Bobby. How are you and the baby doing?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.

“Were both fine doctor,” Bobby replied, “A little irritable is all.”

“To be expected,” said Dr. Roberto, punching data into the vid screen on the instrument he brought with him, “Your body’s going through quite a change. I’ve been reviewing your telemetry data. I’m glad to see you’ve been complaint with its use. You don’t seem to be under any unusual stress. That’s good for you and your baby, but we did pick up something I’d like to check out with a visual scan.”

Dr. Roberto raised Bobby’s gown to just under his full breasts and laid a golf ball sized sensor on the top of Bobby’s belly. He ran the sensor around the contour of Bobby’s protruding abdomen and occasionally poked at the vid screen with his index finger.

“Hum, just as I suspected,” said the doctor to the vid screen, “Well, it looks like you got more than you bargained for Bobby.” Dr. Roberto turned the vid screen so that Bobby could see the display. “Looks like your getting two for the price of one.”

Bobby stared at the vid screen trying to resolve the image before him.

“Let me enhance the picture for you,” said the doctor. He tapped a few times at the icons at the bottom of the screen and the image began to clear.

Bobby could easily see the details on the computer-enhanced video display. The first thing that caught his eye was the image of two heads.

“Twins?” said Bobby through a surprised laugh, I’m having twins?”

“Looks that way,” answered Dr. Roberto.

As the doctor moved the sensor over Bobby’s belly, he could see his babies at different positions. From the perspective of the video image it looked like they were moving around each other instead of the sensor moving around them. To Bobby it seemed as if they were joyfully playing together inside her. Bobby face was lit with joy as he watched his two future children roughhouse in his womb.

Dr. Roberto bent around the vid screen so that both he could continue that exam while Bobby watched. Suddenly the doctor rotated the screen out of Bobby view and began to study the image intently as he held the sensor motionless on Bobby’s belly. Dr Roberto’s face appeared to go ashen.

“What is it Doctor?” Bobby asked, his voice full of concern.

The doctor lifted his eyes from the vid screen and turned to his prostrate patient. The color had returned to his face and his stern expression was beginning to soften as he recovered from what ever it was that he saw on the vid screen.

“My babies all right aren’t they?” asked Bobby, pleading for the right answer.

“Oh, yes, yes,” answered Dr Roberto, tiring to produce a reassuring smile, “I’m just having some technical problems with the image system. Well, I’ve seen everything I needed to anyway.” The doctor placed the sensor back in its holder and wheeled the instrument to the corner of the room. “And we can’t be playing with that the entire visit, can we?” Bobby exhaled and dropped his head on the exam table pillow.

Dr. Roberto approach Bobby and bent down to look at him as he lay on the table. “We got a few more tests to do, Bobby. I’m ordering some blood work for you and an amniocentesis. If you’ll be patient for a few minutes a technician will come here to withdraw a sample from the amniotic sack. It’s routine for your sixth month exam. It will be as painless as the harvest procedure. Continue using your telemetry sensors. We need to monitor you and your babies for at least four hours a day and remember to make an appointment for your eighth month visit.”

Dr. Roberto lightly grabbed Bobby’s shoulder and gave him a broad smile. “Enjoy your pregnancy Bobby. You and the babies are doing fine. See you in two months.”

(6)

Bobby was seated at a circular faux wood table in the teacher’s lounge, sipping idly at a decaffeinated diet soft drink. He had just finished a lunch of a ham and cheese sandwich, chips, a banana and two store bought cupcakes. He has been almost continuously hungry these past couple of months and his body fat percentage had risen a few points higher than the recommended increase. He occasionally received transmitted messages on his pocket slate from his obstetrician’s office to “cut down on fat intake”. The telemetry unit, strapped to his upper arm, continuously monitored Bobby’s and the babies’ health and sent the data directly to a P.C databank.

The telemetry device was about the size of a matchbook and contained sensors and an array of biochemical analytical tools. The unit took regular samples of his interstitial fluids for blood sugar, hormonal, and other biochemical analyses and measured important physiological parameters such as blood pressure, body temperature and heart rate. There was also a sensor attached to his abdomen to monitor the babies’ heartbeats and movements.

Bobby felt like a subject in a fascist science experiment. “The damn thing can even tell what I’m eating,” he once told Sam at dinner when he offered to make some coffee. The ingestion of caffeine is not permitted for parturient people.

He was deep in thought about the babies growing inside his body. He knew that it would be a difficult challenge raising a child and now that challenge had been doubled. There was a brief discussion with Sam about aborting one of them but the thought was dismissed almost as soon as it was mentioned. A surgical abortion of one twin was dangerous to the other. The risk was far too high and besides, how could they choose one over the other.

One of Bobby’s collogues sat down in the empty chair to his left with a tray full of food from the school’s cafeteria. “Hello Bobby. How are you feeling?” asked Marta, a math teacher and Bobby’s closest friend of all his co-workers. Marta was six years younger than Bobby and single. He was a skilled instructor and was highly thought of amongst his peers and students.

“Bobby.” He repeated his name to gain Bobby’s attention. “Bobby. Hello Earth to Bobby.” Bobby finally broke from his trance and gave Marta an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry Marta, just a bit preoccupied,” Bobby said to explain his rude behavior.

“So, how are you feeling?” repeated Marta.

“Tired, blotted and hungry. It’s difficult eating for three.”

“Well you look lovely. Really sexy,” Marta said with a muffled giggle.

Pregnant people were considered very attractive. There was none more beautiful and sexy than one in his third trimester. The pregnant body image was used extensively in advertisement to entice would be customers. Pregnancy was also the premier vehicle for fashion design. Clothing was designed to accentuate a pregnant person’s temporary attributes.

“That’s the irony, I may look it, but I certainly don’t feel it,” said Bobby, after taking a sip of his cola.

“Well hang in there. You only have, what is it, seven weeks now?”

“Ya, I think it will be seven long weeks, but they say twins usually deliver early,”
Bobby said, glancing up at the wall clock.

“How’s Sam taking all the attention you’re getting?” Marta asked, hoping for a bit of gossip.

“He’s fine, but he’s just as anxious as I am. He’s really come around. I’m so proud of him. He’s going to be a great parent.” Bobby sensed that this was not what Marta was wishing to hear. He was a good friend, but was also an incorrigible gossip. Bobby wasn’t going to let out any of his and Sam’s domestic secrets, but he knew he had to give Marta something to talk about.

“Sam has been a little crampy lately. He usually doesn’t suffer from them. I think he’s having sympathetic stomach pains,” Bobby added for Marta’s benefit.

The two looked at each other and briefly laughed at Sam’s expense. Bobby felt a little guilty. He was sure Sam wouldn’t want anyone to know about this.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat more. I have a doctor appointment in a half hour,”
Bobby said, as he stood up and gathered his trash, “Do me a favor and check in with that new sub. He shouldn’t have any trouble with my classes, but I’d feel better if you just looked in on them.”

“No problem,” Marta quickly scanned the room for eavesdroppers then whispered, “Mom.”

“Thanks Marta. You’re a doll. Bye.” Bobby turned to leave then turned back to Marta. “Are you going to eat that cookie?”

(7)

The elevator door opened and Bobby entered and pressed the third floor button. Bobby was chronically late for appointments of all kinds, but this time he felt sure he left the school with plenty of time to spare. However, the cross-town bus ran late and he had to stop in the lobby rest room. As a result, he was late for his appointment again. Bobby sighed with resignation. It seemed he was always going to be late for things no matter what he did.

The elevator stopped at the third floor and Bobby stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. He walked the few steps to Dr. Roberto’s office and opened the door to the waiting room.

As soon as he entered, he saw a familiar face standing by the receptionist's desk. It was Sam, dressed in his uniform complete with his department’s blue beret and black boots. His hair was pulled back behind his ears and tied in a regulation bun. The waste jacket was only half zipped allowing his mock turtleneck to be fully exposed so that his rank insignia could be easily seen. The polished silver bars of a first lieutenant glowed in the reflected ambient light of the waiting room. Sam had been only recently promoted to head a department for domestic abuse deterrence and he was very proud of his new rank. Bobby always thought he looked handsome in his uniform.

Bobby smiled from ear to ear when he saw Sam. “Sam, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I would surprise you,” Sam grabbed Bobby around his shoulders and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Sam was a good 12 cm taller than Bobby. He was just shy of 180 cm.

An assistant led them both down the hall towards the exam rooms, but this time they were led to an office. The assistant opened the door and said, “They’re waiting for you,” as he ushered in the two patients. The assistant closed the door without entering.

Dr. Roberto was sitting behind his oak desk wearing his customary white smock and stethoscope. There was another person standing at the side of the desk, just to the doctor’s right.

Dr. Roberto stood to greet Bobby and Sam with a firm handshake and introduce the visitor. “Bobby, Sam this is Dr. Francis. He is one of the local PC directors, specializing in pediatrics.

Sam immediately got his guard up. “What do we need to talk to your boss for?” Sam asked with authority in his voice.

“Actually he’s my boss’ boss.” Dr. Roberto said trying to lighten things up.

The two physicians looked at each other nervously. Dr. Francis nodded slightly to Dr. Roberto.

“Please, sit down both of you,” Dr. Roberto pleaded, as he gestured to two cushioned chairs in front of the desk. Dr. Francis leaned against the edge of the credenza just behind him and rested his folded hands on his lap.

Dr. Roberto cleared his throat and began to explain the reason for the meeting. “We reviewed the results of the tests we conducted during your last visit Bobby and we found something.” The doctor paused for a few seconds to allow it to sink into his patients. Bobby face went pale. Sam kept his composure.

“One of your babies’ has a particularly rare genetic disorder. We picked it up in the amniocentesis. This particular defect is fatal and has no known cure or treatment.”

“What are you saying? My baby will die?” Bobby croaked. His eyes began to tear up as he grabbed Sam’s waiting hand.

“I’m sorry Bobby,” the doctor said with obvious heart-felt sympathy, “He will likely die at childbirth if not before.”

Sam watched Dr. Roberto’s eyes. He’s not a very good liar, he thought.

Bobby broke down. He leaned over the chair arm and cried into Sam’s shoulder. Sam reached around and held his distraught partner to his chest.

Sam’s eyes began to tear. He patted Bobby’s shoulder and whispered comforting words into his ear.

Sam knew Bobby could no longer ask any questions so he spoke up. “What about the other baby. Will he be all right?”

“Yes, the defect is not in the other baby’s chromosomes. They are not identical twins and do not share an identical genetic profile,” explained Dr. Roberto, whose eyes were also full of tears.

“What can we do about it?” ask Sam.

It was Dr. Francis’ turn to talk. “I’m afraid there is nothing we can do about the defect. If this were a single birth, we would suggest an abortion. That's how serious this is. We need Bobby to check into the PC Obstetrics Hospital as soon as possible. He needs complete bed rest until delivery. It’s the only way to assure the survival of the healthy baby. We can do a much better job of monitoring Bobby’s and the babies’ condition there and be ready in case we have to perform an emergency caesarian. The telemetry can only tell us so much. It would be much better for Bobby and the healthy child to be under twenty four hour care.”

Sam thought Dr. Francis was a much better liar.

Bobby released a loud wale and Dr. Roberto handed him more tissues.

Dr. Francis continued, “ I think the two of you should go home now and pack a small bag. We will be expecting Bobby to check in by early this evening.”

“I’m sorry things worked out this way Bobby,” Dr. Roberto said leaning over his desk trying to get as close to Bobby as he could. “But please, it will do the most good to now focus on the healthy baby you will soon be holding in your arms.” Dr. Roberto tried to flash a reassuring smile but Bobby wouldn’t look up at him. Sam helped Bobby to his feet. The distraught couple walked arm in arm to the elevator.

(8)

Bobby and Sam quickly assembled the contents for the suitcase they were about to pack for Bobby’s long stay at the hospital. Bobby went in the bathroom closet and collected toothpaste, a toothbrush, deodorant, and a hairbrush as well as other toiletries. He walked out of the bathroom with his arms full.

He had recovered from the shock of the news he just heard from the two medical specialists, but was still in a daze. He tossed the items onto the bed and turned around to find the small toiletry bag he had somewhere in the closet. He noticed Sam had collected multiple pairs of pants, blouses, t-shirts and dresses as well as just about all of Bobby’s underwear and socks. He dug deep into the closet and pulled out their largest suitcase.

“We don’t need all that Sam, I’m sure I’ll need to wear gowns in the hospital. Just give me one or two changes of clothes. You can always bring more if I need it,” reasoned Bobby.

Sam continued to stuff the clothes into the large suitcase.

“Aren’t you listening Sam,” Bobby began to raise his voice. “I don’t need that much.”

Sam quickly turned to face Bobby. “You’re not going to the hospital.”

“What do you mean I’m not going?” Bobby said even louder, “You heard what the doctor said. If I don’t stay in bed we may lose both of them. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not Bobby, but your still not going.” Sam grabbed the toiletry bag from the closet shelf and stuffed it with the things Bobby collected. He quickly zipped it up, threw it into the suitcase and snapped the suitcase shut.

“I don’t understand Sam. What are you doing?” Bobby said with a mixture of puzzlement and panic.

Sam ignored Bobby’s pleas and lugged the suitcase into the kitchen. Bobby followed him. For a moment he forgot about the babies and began to worry about Sam. He was not his usual cool, collected self. He seemed panicked almost paranoid. Bobby was concerned. He thought that if Sam goes off the deep end what hope has he.

When they both arrived in the kitchen, Sam paused a moment then turned to face Bobby. He pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and asked Bobby to sit with him.

“Bobby, I think I should tell you what’s going on.” Sam seemed to be searching for words.

Bobby held his breath. Did he pack for himself? No, he thought, those were my clothes. Bobby exhaled and waited for Sam.

“You remember Greta? The guy I went to the academy with.” Bobby nodded. “He’s now chief of the P.E.U. – the Procreation Enforcement Unit. He helped us get approval for our baby, ah babies.” Bobby thought Sam called in some chips on that. Sam continued, “He and I met at Alex’s Pub after work and he uploaded this.”

Sam pulled his pocket slate from a pouch on his utility belt. He punched the screen with his finger and handed it over to Bobby. Bobby looked at it and saw his ID photo with his name, address, ID number, date of birth and a brief description glowing from the backlit screen. He scrolled down and read that the police were to keep him under surveillance until he was transferred to a secure hospital facility. There were also instructions to provide a guard outside his hospital room until further notice. It said that this was a direct order from the local Procreation Council and contained Dr. Francis’ electronic signature.

“I don’t understand Sam. I didn’t do anything. What would the police want with me?” Bobby questioned, hoping for a harmless answer.

“I don’t know hun, but if Greta didn’t intercept this, you’d be under surveillance and not know it,” Sam calmly said, “We’re gonna to take the time he bought for us and hide you away. I’ve seen orders like this before and Greta’s seen them all. He said there’s been about a dozen in New York alone in the past three years with most of them within the last eighteen or so months. He’s been on a few of these details and as far as he knows, neither the baby nor the bearer parent were seen again.”

“Where are we going to hide?” Bobby asked with trepidation.

“Not we babe, you.”

“I don’t want to go by myself. I need you,” Bobby tearfully moaned.

“I can’t stay with you Bobby.” Sam had to stop a moment to gain his composure. They haven’t been away from each other for more than a couple of days since they've been together. This was hard on him too.

“You know I have an implanted Lojack chip. All cops do. They can find me in five minutes once they start looking.”

Bobby was depressed and just wanted all of this to go away. He began that day fairly happy and looking forward to his and Sam’s new life with twin children. Now, it’s crumbled to the life of a fugitive running from the police with one normal baby and one, who knows what, gestating in his uterus. All he could think of was that some how this was all related. The PC wants him and his babies and they will imprison him until he gives birth. This was too much to take even for an intelligent person like Bobby, but the lives of his babies were at stake and he will do what ever it takes to keep them safe.

“Is this about the babies? You think they don’t want us to have twins? Is it because of the sick one? Maybe they just want to help us?” Bobby fired questions at Sam hoping he had some answers that would bring some sense to all this.

“I’m not sure about anything Bobby, but my gut is telling me that this is not for our benefit, plus I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the babies. It’s just a cover. They never showed us any proof and in my experience if you don’t see proof, it isn’t real,” Sam said, to try to reassured Bobby.

“How long do you think we have until they start looking for us?” Bobby began to gather more inner strength. Maybe there was nothing wrong with the twins. The PC might be after them for some other reason, but why? Bobby couldn’t afford to think about it, at least not right now.

“We have until your scheduled check in and probably an hour or so after. I’d say you’d better be well hidden by seven and I’d better be a long way away from you by then. Oh, and take that thing off your arm. They may be able to track you with it.”

(9)

It’s been eleven days and nine hours since Bobby had last seen Sam. He had been cooped up in a second floor room in a budget hotel in a central New Jersey suburb. Business people visiting local companies in the area frequent the hotel. It’s an ordinary hotel servicing ordinary people and is a good hiding place if you want to blend in, but a person entering his ninth month of a pregnancy does not blend very well.

Joe, an old and trusted friend of Sam’s from his past, owns the hotel. Sam left instructions for Bobby to contact only Joe if he needed anything or had an emergency. If Bobby went into labor, they decided to take a chance and call an ambulance, but under no circumstances was he to give anyone his name. They would eventually discover his identity, but maybe Sam could figure something out before then. Anyway, things would most likely not come to that before they could make their final escape.

Before Sam left Bobby, he explained his plan to get himself, Bobby and the babies to safety. They sat together on one of the double beds and discussed his plan and some special instructions for Bobby.

Sam explained that he did his three-year civic service duty in EC intelligence. Bobby knew that already, but what he didn’t know was that he worked for a secret inter-council intelligence department.

Bobby was shocked, “The councils actually spied on each other?”

“The councils are set up to be independent of each other. They had to know what each one was doing. They spied mainly to protect their turf. There was a constant political battle between councils and likely still is.”

Sam said that he had scored very high on the aptitude tests so they assigned him to assist some pretty high level people. “I guess they thought I’d be a lifer, but I decided to leave when my commitment was up. Not that they didn’t put a lot of pressure on me to stay.” Sam seemed to be almost reminiscing.

He went on to explain that he had kept in touch with some of the guys, some were retired, some left later and some are still there. Joe was one of them. “I guess you can say I have some high level friends in some low places,” Sam joked. He planed to contact the ones he thinks can help.

“This will take some time. I don’t know where some of them are and I may have to travel. That is unless I get arrested first.”

Bobby did not like that possibility at all. “How will I know what the hell is happening to you?” Bobby interjected nervously.

Sam handed Bobby a satellite phone. “This phone is only for incoming calls. I got it on the black market so it will be difficult to intercept. The police will have a trace order for our friends’, relatives’ and our electronic transactions. I’ll check in every other day, no voice, just three rings, hang up then two. Then you’ll know everything is OK. If there is a real emergency, dial memory one you’ll get my sat. phone, but then your cover and mine may be blown.”

Under no circumstances was Bobby to buy anything, call anybody, or access the net and he should stay in the room. If he must go out, leave only late at night. Bobby thought all this intrigue sounded like it was right out of a spy novel. This couldn’t be happening. Joe would provide Bobby with food and anything else he needed and he should be contacted only using the hotel phone.

Sam left Bobby without a long good bye. He said it would be better to just split with one hug and a kiss. He promised that they would be together again and the he would not sleep until all four of them were safe.

“There’s still a chance that all this will be for nothing,” Sam said, to try to comfort Bobby’s nerves. Bobby could tell Sam didn’t believe what he had just said, but he trusted Sam implicitly and that was Bobby’s greatest comfort.

There was not much to do alone in a hotel room 24 hours a day for eleven plus days. Bobby slept, watched the vid, napped, ate, read and walked around the grounds, but only after midnight. He half expected to see his face on the vid screen during the news, an all points bulletin for an escaped prego. He was to be considered unarmed and harmless.

Sam had kept to his word and signaled every other day at around noon.

It was midmorning of the day Sam was scheduled to call and Bobby had set the phone on the night table with the speaker side facing up so that he could clearly hear the signals. The call would be the highlight of his day.

There was a knock at the door. It was a soft triple knock that he and Joe had set up as a signal. Bobby waddled to the door and looked through the peephole. It was Joe. Bobby unlocked the bolt and opened the door to let Joe in.

“Hi Bobby,” Joe said, “Have you heard from Sam yet?”

“No, but I’m not expecting his call until around noon,” Bobby replied.

“Well I have.” Joe informed Bobby that Sam sent him an e-mail last night. He said that he was being followed pretty closely and that he would be sending a friend here to move Bobby to a safer place.

Before Bobby could ask a question, Joe opened the door and waved a stranger into the room.

The stranger was immaculately dressed. He was wearing a gray business suit with a knee length skirt, a fitted blazer and a white pleated blouse. His only jewelry was a heavy gold chain that ran around his neck and terminated somewhere between his breasts under his buttoned up blazer. His hair was dirty blond and was styled in long loose curls. He was tall, a bit taller than Sam.

“Bobby this is Pat.”

Pat raised his arm in greeting.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, as he vigorously shook Bobby’s hand.

“I don’t understand Joe,” said Bobby, ignoring the stranger, “Sam said that no one else should know about this.”

“I know Bobby, but sometimes things happen that can’t be avoided and you have to improvise,” Joe explained, “I’m sure Sam found a secure way of sending the message.”

Bobby decided to test Joe. “Do you know this person?”

“Yes, both Sam and I know him well.”

“We all served together in the Civic Service,” replied the stranger, “Sam and I both worked for a Corneal Margarita in the EC Intel service. We had some great times together. Did he ever tell you about the time we vacationed in…” Joe gave Pat an elbow in the ribs. Pat looked at Joe with a pained face. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his ribs.

Bobby was beginning to feel a little better about this, but something was still bothering him.

He faced Joe and said, “How do you know the e-mail was from Sam?”

Joe looked a bit embarrassed. “He addressed it with a nickname he gave me that only he knows because I hated it, Triple T, it means Two Ton Tits.” Joe did have huge breasts. Bobby and Pat let out a restrained laugh. Joe blushed.

“I still don’t like this. I’m staying until Sam calls. Maybe I can quickly speak to him.” Bobby was adamant about staying put. Joe and Pat continued to plead with him. They said that Sam would not have risked a forth person unless it was important. He had to thrust them. Bobby still refused to budge until he had a chance to talk to Sam.

Pat was getting agitated and he occasionally raised his voice and nearly demanded that Bobby come with him. This made Bobby nervous and he asked both of them to leave until Sam called.

“Enough of this crap,” Pat angrily yelled. He grabbed Bobby from behind and said, “You and your spawn are coming with me now!”

Bobby couldn’t move. Pat’s grip was powerful. He tried to struggle but couldn’t break free. Then he remembered some of the self-defense moves Sam taught him a few years back. Bobby hoped he would never need to use them.

He quickly lifted his right leg and dug the heal of his shoe into the top of Pat’s foot. Pat immediately released his grip and doubled over in pain.

Bobby ran across the room and grabbed the phone on the nightstand. He fumbled for the correct keys as he kept a wary eye on Joe and his attacker. Joe and Pat quickly walked towards Bobby from both sides, Pat, with a slight limp. Pat reached into his coat. Bobby found the memory button on the phone and pressed the number one key. Pat pulled his hand from his coat along with a chrome-plated gun. I was not a stun gun, but was the kind with bullets. He pointed the gun in Bobby’s direction.

Bobby dropped the phone on the carpeted floor, kicked it under the bed and then let out a blood-curdling scream. The two so-called friends quickly rushed Bobby and placed their hands over his mouth. Bobby bit one of them. He didn’t know whom until Joe quickly withdrew his hand and plunged it into his armpit.

Pat grabbed Bobby’s throat and held the gun to his face. “Get the phone,” he ordered Joe.

Joe scrambled under the bed. He pulled out the phone and looked at its screen. The screen was blank. “I’m not sure if he got through. He could have and Sam hung up. Can’t be sure.”

Bobby was seething.

“Listen to me honey,” Pat said with venom, “Your gonna come with me easy or I’ll empty this gun into your belly and you and your two children will die in horrible pain.” Pat paused for a moment and slightly loosened his grip. “Do I have your cooperation now?”

Bobby nodded to indicate his compliance with Pat’s demands. Pat released Bobby and stepped back. The gun still aimed at its target. Pat’s coat was open and for the first time Bobby could see a gold medallion on the end of the chain around Pat’s neck.

The medallion consisted of a gold circle with a six-pointed star in the middle. Protruding from the circle at the six o’clock position was an inverted cross. Bobby recognized it as the symbol of the Theoevolutionist. However, the only people who wore this symbol in such a garish manner were fundamentalists, the same group that his student Marty belonged to.

Bobby thought for a moment and summoned the courage to say, “Your one of those religious kooks.” Bobby immediately regretted his choice of words.

Pat gave him a crooked smile. “Well, I’m one of those kooks with a gun to your belly.
Let’s go,” he said, as he waved the gun towards the door.

Joe led the way out of the room. As Bobby passed Pat, he could see out of the corner of his eye that he put the gun in his coat pocket. “I still have it where I can use it.” The three marched down the stairs, through the lobby and out the front door.

Pat held onto Bobby elbow with his right hand while keeping his left hand on the gun in his pocket. He tried to hurry Bobby through the parking lot to his car, parked a couple of rows back, but Bobby couldn’t walk very fast. Pat and Joe were forced to slow their pace to avoid attracting attention. Two people dragging a very pregnant person through a parking lot would certainly acquire the stares of unwanted eyes.

Bobby was frightened but complaint. He had absolutely no control over the situation. He was convinced that if he screamed for help he would be gunned down and both he and his soon to be children would certainly die. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t outpace a one legged geriatric never mind two healthy middle aged men. There was nothing he could do, but do what Pat and Joe wanted and hope for a miracle.

Pat stopped for a moment and released Bobby’s arm. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a set of keys and tossed them to Joe. Joe double-timed it to a blue sedan, opened the driver side door and got inside.

Bobby heard the high-pitched whine of the car’s motor. After the car started, Bobby saw Joe look towards him then past him. His eyes became as large as ping-pong balls and his jaw dropped. He pointed a shaky finger in Bobby and Pat’s direction just as Bobby heard the distinctive crack of a stun gun. Bobby had accompanied Sam to the police department firing range a few times and had even fired a stun gun at the human like robotic targets used to sharpen the shooting skills of the city’s peace officers.

Bobby felt Pat’s hand tighten around his upper arm. Pat’s grip became so strong that it felt like his fingers were borrowing into his muscle. Bobby instinctively reached around with his other hand and grabbed Pat’s wrist to try to break his hold. As he did, he felt a mild shock travel up his free arm. Pat released his grip and fell to the ground like a marionette with its strings cut. Bobby grabbed his bruised arm and turned around. He saw a person standing there, legs spread, holding onto a stun gun with two hands. It was Sam.

Bobby froze. He wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real or just a hallucination from wishful thinking. Sam ran towards Bobby, then right past him. Bobby turned his head to follow Sam but his body still couldn’t move.

Sam approached the car with which Joe was attempting to escape. He ran towards the now speeding vehicle with both arms outstretched tracking the movement of the car with the barrel of his stun gun. Sam dropped his arms to his side when he realized that Joe had successfully gotten away. He ran back toward Bobby as he put his stun gun back into his shoulder holster. “Bobby honey, are you all right?” Sam asked, in an uncharacteristic shrill voice.

Tears welled up in Bobby’s eyes. He waited for Sam to meet up with him and then fell into his arms. It was only until he was held firmly in Sam’s grip that Bobby began to cry. The terror he suppressed during his ordeal, with the zealot Pat and trader Joe, was released from his subconscious and Bobby began to tremble.

Sam held Bobby tight against his body. “Everything’s alright now,” Sam repeated a few times over. The two life partners stood in the parking lot rocking back and forth in each other’s arms. Sam suddenly realized that people were present, all witnesses to the goings on. He gently released himself from Bobby’s grip and said, “We gotta get out of here Bobby, the police will be here anytime now.”

Bobby looked up at Sam. If there were only one thing in the world that he could be sure of, it would be to trust Sam’s instincts.

Sam grabbed Bobby’s hand and ran, as fast as Bobby could keep up, to a black two-door car parked behind a light post. Sam helped Bobby into the passenger seat then got in behind the wheel and sped out of the parking lot.

“Sam where did you come from?” Bobby asked, still not sure this was real.

Sam hit a red lever on the steering column to put the car into automatic drive mode and turned the swivel seat to face Bobby. “I’ve been around for a couple of days now.”

Bobby noticed a stale smell emanate from all around. He looked down at his feet and saw the remnants of a half eaten hoagie loosely wrapped in sandwich paper. He looked in the back seat and saw a sweatshirt and jacket thrown on top of an empty pizza box. There were junk food wrappers and soda and water bottles all over the interior of the car.

“Were you living in here?” Bobby asked, with a mix of surprise and disgust.

“I had the hotel under surveillance,” Sam replied, “I needed to see who would eventually come after you.”

“You mean you were here to whole time and you used me as bait?” Bobby was beginning to feel hurt. Sam had put his life in jeopardy to play some cop game.

“No babe, nothing like that,” Sam quickly countered, “I spent most of my time making contact with some former colleagues.” The car turned into the first lane of the two-lane highway to prepare to take a right. “I made some contacts and arranged to get us out of the region. We’re going to the airport now.”

“We don’t have to run Sam,” said Bobby, about to inform him that they were wrong about the PC, “Those fundamentalists nut cases were the ones trying to hurt us. The guy you shot was one of them.”

“Pat, ya I know. I found out that Joe and Pat converted a few years back,” Sam patently explained, “When I found that out, I did some more digging and discovered that the church was heavily infiltrated into the PC, in fact, into much of our region’s government. That Dr. Francis is one of them and for all I know Roberto is too.”

The car turned into the airport and found a spot as close to the terminal as it could to park. The two got out of the car after Sam commanded it to drive to a shopping mall in Newark where its owner would pick it up. After the car drove away, they walked to the moving sidewalk that led into the departure gates.

Sam continued to recount his investigation. “After I uncovered all that I could, I came back here to watch over you. I was able to get my chip disabled by an old acquaintance so I had no fear about being tracked. I know you’re pissed that I didn’t just come get you, but I had to let things happen to fill in the holes. I had pieces but not everything. I couldn’t just go in and accuse Joe. I had to wait for him to show his hand. I figured I’d wait a few days. This flight was arraigned for today and I would’ve come get you if Pat hadn’t showed up. Damn, I really wanted to catch Joe. I knew Pat wouldn’t talk but I thought I could shame Joe into telling us why they want us so badly.”

“You mean you still don’t know?” Bobby asked disappointedly.

“No, I just know we’re not the only couple.” The sidewalk carried them into the terminal dome.

“The PC and the cops are still after us. If we’re spotted follow my lead.”

Bobby and Sam disembarked from the moving sidewalk and walked toward the charter gate. Sam approached the terminal counter where a young flight attendant was standing. Sam opened a faux leather wallet he was carrying and showed the attendant its contents.

“I’m a courier for Mother on official business. This person and I are booked on charter fight 105 and would like to board right away.”

The attendant took Sam’s wallet and scanned it with an electronic reader. He asked for Sam’s left arm and scanned his forearm. After a few seconds, the attendant looked up at Sam, folded the wallet and gave it back.

“Everything’s in order Mr. Stephan. Please board through gate 10 and have a nice flight,” the attendant said with a cheery smile.

Sam took Bobby’s arm and led him down the gate.

“Mr. Stephan?” Bobby whispered in Sam’s direction.

“Just a cover,” Sam said, out of the corner of his mouth.

They approached the jet’s entry portal and stepped through. The plane’s interior was plush. There was expensive carpet on the floor and walls and wood patterned trim accents. The seats were large and each one had it’s own vid screen, phone and worktable. The back of each seat carried the symbol of the EC. They were the only people onboard.

“This is a government jet,” Bobby uttered nervously.

“Don’t worry Bobby. The entire government isn’t after us. I told you I had friends,” Sam said, showing off a little.

“Well let’s hope these friends are better than Joe and Pat,” retorted Bobby, after they had settled into their seats.

Sam looked at Bobby and gave him a smile. “Buckle in wise ass.”

Sam picked up a phone and pressed the intercom. “We’re all set to go, Captain.”

The Hyperjet engines began to roar as the plane backed out of the terminal. Bobby grabbed the arm of his life partner and nestled his head on his shoulder. As the plane taxied toward the runway Bobby asked, “Where are we going Sam?”

Sam replied, “Cape Town in the Southern African Region.”

(10)

Bobby awoke when he felt the plane begin its approach to Cape Town International Airport. The trip should have taken three hours, but he slept through most of it so it seemed as if they had just taken off. He fell asleep as the plane was climbing to the ionosphere and was disappointed that he missed the view. Even the babies’ kicks couldn’t keep him awake. Sam was fast asleep. It would have taken an explosion to wake him.

When the plane touched down, it jolted Sam awake. It must have awakened the babies too because they began to fidget and kick like two soccer players. The plane taxied and came to rest on one of the airport tarmacs. Bobby looked out a window and saw the rolling hills of the South African countryside before him. Off in the distance he could see the grayish side of a huge flat-topped mountain.

Some movement near-by caught Bobby’s eye. A large, dark blue limousine was approaching the jet. It circled around the plane then parked next to the entry portal on the plane’s port side. The pilot exited the cockpit and pulled the locking levers on the portal door. Bobby could hear the mechanical sounds of the stairs unfolding from the fuselage's interior.

Bobby and Sam stood up and walked down the generous center aisle of the government jet. When Bobby stood on the disembarking platform, the African summer heat hit him like a blast furnace. Sam helped Bobby down the stairs and they walk slowly to the limo driver standing next to the rear door of the elongated vehicle. The driver opened the door and Bobby entered first. The interior space was quite large, so he had no difficulty negotiating his expanded torso into a seat. He sat down and looked up towards the car’s front and was startled when he saw two people sitting in the facing seat across from him.

The person, directly across, was elegantly dressed in a colorful African Sari and a matching head wrap. His neck was adorned with intricate gold chains and his fingers with a variety of stone clustered rings. He was an elderly distinguished looking dark skinned person with a face that looked very familiar.

The other person was much younger, about Sam and Bobby’s age, and dressed in western style clothing. When the two travelers had settled in, the elderly person leaned forward a bit; his chains softly clattered with his movements as he extended his hand to Bobby.

“Hello Bobby It’s good to finally meet you. My name is Becky,” the elderly person said in a soft, slightly raspy voice. Bobby grabbed his hand and gave it a shake.

“This is my eldest child Baako,” the elderly person continued, gesturing to the individual in the seat next to him. Bobby shook his hand too and nodded hello. He was still transfixed on the first person trying to remember where he had seen him. Then it hit him.

“Mother Rebecca, your Mother Rebecca!” Bobby was overwhelmed. He had seen him many times on the vid and in the news downloaded to his slate every day. The Mother Councilors were the celebrities of the celebrities. He never in a million years thought that he would ever meet one of them, never mind share a car ride. Bobby then realized that they had already exited the airport.

“Please Bobby call me Becky,” Mother Rebecca kindly requested, “Let’s not be formal. You are amongst friends here and friends should not be formal with each other.”

Bobby glanced over at Sam. He was again asleep in the seat next to him. How could he be so rude in the presents of such a great person? Bobby gave him a crossed look and was about to grab his shoulder and jostle him awake. Mother Rebecca reached out to stop him.

“Let him sleep dear,” Mother Rebecca said with empathy, “He hasn’t slept much over the past number of days. He has spent much energy avoiding capture and saving you and your babies. He is a strong and capable person. You are very lucky that you have someone like him to love and protect you.”

Mother Rebecca – Becky – was right thought Bobby. Bobby always loved Sam but no more that he did today. Lucky wasn’t the word, blessed was more like it.

The limousine zoomed smoothly over the seemingly newly paved highway in the African hills. The area around them was thickly settled with lovely little white brick houses, nicely appointed with generous garden spaces and filled with local vegetation and citrus trees.

“Excuse me Mother Rebecca?” Mother Rebecca looked at Bobby from the tops of his eyes.

“Sorry, Becky. Where are we going?” Bobby asked sheepishly.

“We are going to Daddy’s foundation compound just outside of Cape Town.” Baako replied for Becky, “We have an apartment waiting for you and Sam. It is adjacent to our hospital. You will stay there until it is time to give birth.” Baako spoke with the same Afrikaans accent as his dad.

Bobby was a bit taken aback that Baako referred to Becky as “Daddy” in front of strangers, but this was only a minor concern. He was feeling very uneasy. He had just spent the last twelve days trying to avoid capture by the government and was a little suspicious. After all, Mother Rebecca was the government.

Becky reached over and touched Bobby’s knee having seemingly perceived Bobby’s discomfort. “I assure you, you are amongst friends. The apartment will be quite comfortable and we have some of the very best doctors on our payroll. The hospital is well funded. You will be in the very best of care.”

Bobby felt a sharp kick to his ribs. Thoughts of his sick baby leapt into his head like a pouncing African lion.

“Do you know why people are after me and my babies?” Bobby asked both Becky and Baako, “Is it because of the baby with the birth defect?”

“There is nothing wrong with your babies dear.” assured Becky, “As far as why you were being pursued, let us just say that power still corrupts. That is a lesson we still have not all learned.”

(11)

It has been a week since Bobby and Sam settled into their apartment in Mother Rebecca’s extensive compound. He owned about 850 hectares of land in the Paarl wine region at the foothills of the Cedar Mountains. The compound was at one time one of the region’s many wineries and Becky still dedicated some of the land for grapevines for his small winery on the premises. He ran it more for a hobby than a money making venture.

The apartment they were given was as advertised. It was pleasant airy space with a large sunken living room, a small galley style kitchen and two bedrooms with a full bath for each. It lacked some of the modern amenities the two visitors were used to, but they weren’t exactly roughing it. The view out the large living room window wall was spectacular. It looked over the compound’s vineyards and out beyond to the distant mountains.

Becky provided everything Sam and Bobby needed, food, clothing and the unrestricted use of one of his automobiles. Baako taught Sam and Bobby how to wear a sari. They were not Sam’s cup of tea, but Bobby loved wearing them. They were loose and cool and not as binding as western clothes were around his pregnant body. He wore one almost every day.

Baako treated Bobby and Sam to a tour on their second day. They visited the hospital and met some of the staff, especially Dr. Razi, the chief and only obstetrician on the compound. They toured the new school Becky was building to educate the growing number of children living in and around the compound with their parents. Baako said that the foundation was dedicated to helping these children. He didn’t say why they needed the help and Bobby and Sam didn’t ask. They assumed that the area was poor and needed the aid.

“But isn’t that what was the government is for?” Bobby asked.

“The government can’t do everything,” Baako responded, “Daddy’s foundation is funded mainly through private means. The government seems to want to keep its distance for now, conflicts of interest.”

Bobby and Sam had just finished dinner and were sitting together on the living room couch as they had for most of the evenings since they arrived. They watched the low sun reflect off the mountains. When the setting sun hit the mountains of granite they glowed a soft white. It was a beautiful and peaceful sight and the window wall provided a panoramic view of the entire valley east of the compound.

Suddenly, Bobby felt a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. When it subsided he looked at Sam.

“Was that a labor pain?” Sam asked, with some slight panic in his voice.

“I don’t know. Let’s wait and see if there’s another.” Bobby replied.

After about ten minutes there was another, then another about seven minutes later.

“They’re definitely contractions,” Bobby said calmly, “I think we should call the hospital.”

Bobby and Sam met the ambulance outside for the short trip to the compound’s hospital. Bobby was strapped to a gurney and loaded into the back. Sam got into the back passenger seat and the ambulance sped away.

The ambulance arrived at the hospital two minutes later. Bobby had two contractions along the way. The pains quickly intensified and Bobby was releasing noises Sam hadn’t even heard from car accident victims.

“The babies will be coming soon,” said Doctor Razi, who stayed in back with Bobby during the ride over, “We’ve got to get him to delivery right away.”

Dr. Razi rushed Bobby down a hallway and through a set of swinging doors. Sam tried to follow, but was stopped by a nurse.

“You will have to change into scrubs before you can go in,” the nurse instructed, “There are scrubs in the change room and wash up well before entering the surgical suites.”

Sam raced through the change room door and found the scrubs. He striped off his close and threw them haphazardly across the room. He just as quickly donned the scrubs, washed up and then burst through the door to enter the surgical hallway. There was no one around. He looked into the closest rooms but they were empty. He ran around in circles trying to find his partner. Then he heard an ear-piercing scream. He ran in the direction of the scream and found a birthing room with four people outfitted in surgical gear surrounding a surgical table with Bobby lying naked on top.

“The first one is crowning,” a masked doctor announced, “We don’t have time for a epidermal. Just bear down and we’ll get through this.”

Sam stood frozen in the doorway. For the first time, in a long time, he had no idea what to do. He felt helpless.

A doctor or a nurse looked over at Sam. “Sam, put on a mask and bonnet. They’re in those bins to your right then come in and help your partner.”

“What do I do?” asked a puzzled Sam through his facemask.

“Support his back while he pushes,” someone said.

“This ones coming without any help,” said Dr. Razi, his head buried between Bobby’s elevated legs.

Bobby released another prolonged scream.

“There’s the first one.”

A nurse quickly grabbed the baby from the doctor and partially wrapped it in a green towel. The doctor snipped the umbilical cord and the nurse carried the baby away to a table in the back of the birthing room. Sam heard his first child cry.

“I would normally let you cut the cord,” Dr Razi said in Sam’s direction, “but we got another one coming. We’re going to need a little push here Bobby. Ready? Now push.”

Bobby raised his back from the table and released a loud guttural grunt. Sam held Bobby’s hand with one hand and supported his back with the other. Bobby squeezed Sam’s hand almost to the breaking point.

Sam looked down at Bobby’s vagina and saw a small head peeking out. The doctor cradled the baby's head as Bobby continued to push.

“Ok Bobby a little more, here comes the shoulders,” the doctor calmly said.

Bobby bore down and grunted again. Sam witnessed his second child shoot out of Bobby and into the doctor’s well-positioned hands. The doctor and a second nurse repeated the process Sam observed with his first-born.

Sam gently lowered Bobby back down to the table and the two looked into each other’s eyes for the first time as parents. Bobby was breathing heavily but otherwise seemed ok. Sam bent down and gave Bobby a long kiss.

“Where are our babies?” an exhausted Bobby whispered to Sam.

“We’re right over here Mom and Dad.”

Two nurses were walking towards the two new parents, each with one of the babies in their arms. Both babies were wrapped tightly in blankets and each was wearing a small cap on top of their tiny heads.

The nurses gently laid each baby on top of each of Bobby’s breasts. Bobby caressed both of them in his arms.

“They’re so beautiful,” said everyone.

Sam turned toward Dr. Razi and asked, “Are they both healthy?”

“They are both perfect.”

Sam and Bobby were relieved, to say the least. The doctors back home were wrong or lying after all. But why would someone lie about such a thing. It didn’t matter to either of them now. Soon they could go home and begin the life they almost lost about a fortnight ago.

“We have to take the babies for a few minutes to perform some routine tests,” Dr. Razi said to Bobby, “You’ll be brought to a hospital room to spend a couple of days for recovery. We’ll bring your babies to you in about a half an hour.”

Bobby and Sam waited in the hospital room for their children to arrive. Suddenly the door to the room burst open and about a half dozen children of various races came bounding in followed by Baako. The oldest of the group seemed no older than four years. The four year old looked at Bobby in his hospital bed then at Sam sitting beside him.

“Where are the babies?” he asked of Sam.

“They’ll be here in a little while,” Sam said playfully to the child.

“Becky said you have twins. I never seen twins,” the little one said excitedly.

Just then, the other children turned towards the door. Becky entered the room carrying Bobby and Sam’s babies, one in each arm.

“Here they are children. Now be careful around the babies.” Becky bent over to let the children have a closer look at the twins but he kept the babies safely out the even the tallest child’s reach. The children cooed and giggled as the twins squirmed in Becky’s arms.

He bought the twins over to Bobby and laid one in his arms and gave the other to Sam. Becky brought a camera and took a few shots of the new parents and their offspring.

“How are both of you feeling?” Becky asked with a broad smile.

“I’m doing fine now that our children are finally with us safe and healthy,” Bobby said, alternating glances between the baby in his arms and the one in Sam’s.

“Well, there is still something you must be informed about,” Becky said. The children were getting a little rambunctious.

“Children please behave,” Becky said in a firm voice while emphasizing his remark with a single clap of his hands.

“These children are particularly difficult to control,” Baako said as he tried to round up the scattered children.

“Sam may I?” Becky gestured to Sam to pass him his newborn. Sam obliged.

“I think this is the one,” Becky said to himself, as he unwrapped the baby. “Yes, this is what I want to show you.”

Becky dropped the cloth and showed Bobby and Sam the reason for all the trouble and intrigue they endured over the past seventeen days. Bobby looked at his child with puzzlement. He thought, “What am I seeing here?” This can’t be right. Bobby knew what he was looking at. He just couldn’t comprehend it. He knew enough biology to recognize a penis when he sees one, but they’re only supposed to be on animals, not humans.

Bobby looked up from his bed at Becky and said in astonishment, “That’s a penis!”

“Yes it is and isn’t it a beautiful one?” Becky replied.

“I don’t understand, the doctor said they were both healthy.” Bobby was beginning to sound distraught.

“He is. You have a healthy baby boy here,” Becky said with a chuckle.

“A baby boy? I don’t understand.”

“That’s what they used to call male children when humans were divided into two sexes,” Becky explained.

“And this one?” Bobby asked looking down at his baby in his arms.

“That one is his twin sister."

Bobby was familiar with the term “sister”. The Theoevolutionists sometimes refer to each other as sister, but it’s meant to be another word for fellow believer.

“I don’t understand how can we possibly have made a male baby? I thought it’s only possible to conceive babies like us,” Sam asked. He was as perplexed as Bobby.

Becky handed his naked child back to Sam.

Becky found a seat and began to explain his reson-detre, “About fifteen years ago the Executive Council was informed of a phenomenon that was occurring at various places around the world. A few people gave birth to baby males. It was very rare, but did happen nonetheless. There was much debate about what to do. We all agreed to keep this a secret for the time being. News of male humans again among us would have tore at the fabric of our society. The majority of the ministers treated this like a disease and wanted to find a cure before it became an epidemic. They mobilized the Health Council to investigate. Their report came back as inconclusive. This was not the result of a virus, nor due to some contaminates in the environment, nor an artifact of the in-vitro techniques. It appeared to be spontaneously and randomly occurring and it was becoming more prevalent.

“A few years ago I discovered that factions of the EC and the PC were conspiring to destroy these children, in-utero if possible, infanticide if not. I tried to do what I could from the inside, but the Theoevolutionists had joined the conspiracy and it became too powerful. I began this secret foundation with the aid of some very wealthy and powerful like-minded friends to help these children and to seek out expectant parents of males by whatever means were at our disposal. We bring them here, like we did with you, and here is where you must both stay to raise your children until your boy can be accepted into society. We have many allies and I feel that people will eventually grow to accept them. We believe that males will once again become an equal partner of our civilization.”

“You mean we have to live here? We can’t go home?” Bobby tearfully asked, overwhelmed by what he has heard.

“You don’t have to live in the compound, but for the sake of the boy, you must stay here. It is the only place in the world where boys are accepted and can grow up to be good male humans,” Becky stated.

“Can’t we surgically alter him? Maybe he can pass as normal,” Sam asked, trying to find a way to live a more normal life.

“No, you mustn’t,” Becky emphatically said, “If males are to be once again accepted as part of the human condition we must raise them as males. There is nothing abnormal about him. This is what nature intended.

“These boys are pioneers. They will need all the confidence and understanding we can give to them and very likely more than we can give. This is not something to hide from them. It is who they are. This is a wonderful thing we’re witnessing. It seems that nature abhors a vacuum and it’s trying to fill it.”

Sam and Bobby looked at each other and then at their newborn boy.

“Well if we stay, how will we live? What can we do here?” Bobby asked of Becky.

“I’m glad you asked,” answered Becky, “The oldest boys are about to enter school age and there are many more just behind them. We could use a good teacher. You’d be the only teacher in the world with experience instructing boys. And Sam, we desperately need to step up our intelligence and retrieval program. From what I’ve seen of how you operate, I’d say your perfect for the job.”

Bobby liked the idea and looked to Sam for agreement. He could tell from Sam’s smile and the way he looked at his baby boy that he was enthusiastically in agreement.

Bobby nodded his approval to Becky.

“This is terrific. Welcome to your new home.” Becky clapped her hands with excitement.

“By the way, what are you going to name your children?” Becky asked.

Sam and Bobby looked at each other.

“We haven’t really had the chance to think about it,” said Sam.

“What did they name their boys back when there were male people?” Bobby asked Becky.

“There were many boys names,” answered Becky, “many are still used, but there is an ancient boy’s name that has been forgotten. I think the name was 'Junior'.”

“Junior,” repeated Bobby, “I like how that sounds and for the other, if you approve Becky, we’d like to name him Rebecca."

Mother Rebecca leaned across Bobby and gave his namesake a kiss.

(END)