Prompt: All citizens are temporarily neutered at birth. Would-be parents must prove to the government that they’ll be suitable caretakers and providers before they’re allowed to procreate.
“Do you want to open them together?” Claire excitedly said as she plopped down at the kitchen table. She had run in waving the letters in the air proclaiming, “They’re here, they’re here!”
Daniel took his letter from her, rolling it over with his finger tips.
“Why don’t you go ahead and open yours first,” he said. Claire smiled widely and ripped the envelope open. After scanning the letter, she whooped excitedly, almost falling over in her seat.
“I’ve been approved! I can have a baby,” Claire exclaimed with tears forming in her eyes. “This is all we’ve wanted, Daniel, and now it’s going to happen.”
Daniel smiled with confidence, feeling proud for his wife. She had made it through all the hurdles, which meant he probably did as well. It’s not easy to get approved for procreation. There are many steps to get there, including genetic screenings for possible genetic diseases or disorders. It didn’t immediately disqualify you, unless your disorder was a predisposition for addiction. Society had really cracked down on the addict, with one administration after another adding to the legislature. There was almost no room left for them, save treatment centers that many of them never left.
Of course there was more than that to be considered. Criminal records, job history, physical exams, mental acuity, political and religious ideologies, empathy testing, just about anything you can think of, they screen or test you on. On top of that, there was the lottery system. Being fit to have a family didn’t necessarily mean you could. About fifteen percent of couples were turned down just to keep birth rates even. That’s the way it had been over the last few generations. You’re temporarily neutered at birth, and if you seem fit to be a parent when the time was right, the government removed the implants preventing you from giving birth.
There were some positives that came out of what people called the ‘Right to Procreate’ laws. More people were having sex more often, many times without harm or repercussion. Especially after different government health agencies banned together to target STIs. As you might imagine, moral skyrocketed shortly after this. It also worked well as population control. Overtime, that helped with the lack of resources, homelessness, healthcare, and many other issues the country had been facing for so long.
On the negative side, denial led to a myriad of problems unforeseen by the administration that rolled out these laws. Suicide went up. So did gun violence, mostly by those that feel the system scorned their ability to make a family. A black market for surgical removal of the implants grew, but with it so did government force against unregistered family units as well as death by botched surgeries. Protests broke out for years and the government called out the National Guard in some places, causing even more injury to civilians just fighting for their right to start a family. Worst of all for actual families, you had to reapply if you wanted more than one child. That round of scrutiny included any kids you had previously and well they were adapting to society.
Daniel sat twirling the letter, thinking to himself how lucky he was fr not having to worry about any of that. He smiled to himself as he tore the envelope open from one side. He was looking forward to setting dates for the removal of the implants, the procreation consultation, going through the actual pregnancy with his wife. So much joy shattered as he opened the letter to read the red stamp across the top. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw fell open. His heart began beating rapidly as the anxiety set in. All he could do is whimper, “Denied?”
“What was that hun? What does it say?” Claire pulled the letter from Daniel’s hand. She seemingly didn’t notice his state of shock as she read the letter out loud.
“Dear Mr. Crowford, we regret to inform you that you have been denied the right to procreate. We are sorry for this inconvenience and offer information about counseling below. We encourage you to file an appeal at our office, as the reason for your denial is rare but automatic. Good luck. Thank you, Board of Procreation. Reason for denial: potential for alcoholism? But you don’t even drink,” she said.
“I know,” said Daniel.
“Well there must be some kind of mistake. We took a lot of these tests for compatibility when we got married and you were fine then. They can’t just deny you on something you already tested for,” Claire rambled. Daniel snatched the letter out of her hand, standing in frustration.
“Well, they did,” Daniel said as he walked out of the room.
“Daniel, where are you going?”
“To figure out what the hell is going on,” he said, the front door slamming behind him,
Three months passed.
After fighting with the local procreation clerk, Daniel ended up filing the appeal. Things got tense with Claire for a while after that, so Daniel opted to have the results delivered to him at work. Not to hide the results from her, but hopefully to ease her into the news without starting an argument.
When the letter came in, he crouched over it inside of his cubicle. This time there was no joy, only anxiety. A heavy fear of what might happen if he was denied again. The scenarios raced through his head like a skipping record, each thought piercing him right where the needle clipped.
He slowly opened the envelope and slid the letter out. He opened it, and tears began forming in his eyes.
‘Dear Mr. Crowford, upon further review, we discovered a mixup in paperwork. We found you cleared from the original reason of denial per an administrative mistake on our part. Your predisposition to alcoholism has been confirmed to be negative. However, because of the automatic denial from your original application, you were never processed through the lottery system. This process was automatically implemented when your genetic panel passed the screening process. We regret to inform you that you did not pass the lottery drawing and have once again been denied. We apologize for our original clerical error, as we understand you would most likely have passed if your application had been processed correctly at the time of your partner’s application. Unfortunately, because of the strict confinements around the right to procreate, we are required to inform you that you are only allowed one appeal before a final decision by the Board of Procreation. You do not and will not have the right to procreate within this lifetime. We again apologize for the inconvenience and wish you good luck in the future. Thank you, Board of Procreation.’
Daniel crumpled the letter in one hand, his face turning red. He tossed the paper into his trash bin. Frustrated, he stood and exited his cubicle, almost trampling one of his coworkers, Mali.
“Whoa, Danny. What’s up?” Mali asked. Daniel ignored the question, storming out of the office. Mali looked down and saw the crumpled letter in the trash. Pulling it out, she unfurled it and read it, a look of concern on his face.
“I’m doing everything I know to do, Claire,” Daniel found himself back in his home, sitting at a computer looking up lawyers.
“Is it going to be enough?” Claire said sternly as she paced around the room.
“I don’t know, all I can do right now is find a lawyer and see what they say,” Daniel answered.
“This isn’t right. We’re supposed to start a family. We’ve done everything right,” Claire lamented. Daniel reached over to her as she passed and grabbed her hand. He held it as he looked up at her.
“Hey, we’re going to figure this out, okay?” Daniel reassured her.
“But what if we don’t?” Claire shook with fear from the thought. Daniel did not answer.
Mali entered Daniel’s cubicle uninvited. She sat on the edge of his desk, unfolding the letter and placing it in front of him.
“Did you pull that out of my trash? Why do you have that?”
“Shh, not so loud,” Mali said. “I know someone that might be able to help you.”
“How?” Daniel asked.
“I know a doctor. He helped my cousin and his family. He can take out the implant,” Mali whispered to him.
“What do you mean? Isn’t that illegal?” Daniel asked. Mali shook her head.
“Yes, but there’s ways around that. My cousin and his family, they did it and they’re doing fine. The doctor, he handles everything. The removal of the implant, fake procreation records and birth certificate. Pre and postnatal counseling. He even performs the birth. All of it, in a sterile environment even,” Mali explained.
“How much does something like that cost?”
“Not as much as you would think,” Mali answered.
Daniel sat quietly thinking about what Mali said. It was dangerous. And Claire probably wouldn’t be up for it. As much as she wanted a family, she wouldn’t break the law. It wasn’t in her demeanor. But maybe. Maybe for this.
“Let me talk to Claire about it,” Daniel said.
“Just let me know,” Mali replied.
“Okay, how are you feeling Mr. Crowford?” The doctor asked as Daniel slowly started regaining consciousness. Everything had worked out so far. It took a little convincing Claire, but not as much as Daniel had expected. Mali set him up with the doctor’s contact information. Shortly after, Daniel set up an evaluation appointment. Everything became real positive. He paid the doctor in full up front. When the day of the surgery came, Claire dropped him off and went on her way. It was to be a minor procedure, nothing more than the surgery and a few hours of recovery.
“I… I’m fine I think,” Daniel responded.
“Okay, you’re going to still the anesthesia for a little while longer, but most of it has passed,” the doctor explained. He was near Daniel’s bed writing something out on a clipboard.
“How did the surgery go?” Daniel asked.
“Well, that’s kind of why I woke you up a little early, Mr. Crowford. There was an accident,” the doctor said.
“An accident?”
“Yes, well. The implant shifted in an unexpected direction as you matured. They pierced your Vas deferens. I tried to save them, but the damage was beyond repair,” the doctor explained.
Daniel shot upright in bed. “What?” He immediately fell queasy and almost fell out of the bed. A nurse ran over to help the doctor lay Daniel back down.
“Deep breaths, Mr. Crowford. Everything is okay.” Daniel heard the words, but they did not register. He was trying to wrestle the nurse in his weakened state, trying to push through as other orderlies came to hold him down. There was a sharp pinch at his neck, the cold feeling of an injection, and then sleep.
A year had passed. In that time, Claire had left. There was no reconciliation over the idea that she would never have a family if she stayed with Daniel. He understood, but it still cut deep.
Shortly after that, the doctor was raided. His customers exposed, the authorities came for Daniel at his place of work. He was already miserable. This served no more than another humiliation. He did not argue or put up a fight. He simply turned around so the cuffs could click closed around his wrists. As the authorities escorted him out of the office, he turned to Mali, who looked pale and apologetic. Daniel just turned his gaze back toward his shoes.
The judge that reviewed his case had empathy. Seeing all the damage the government had befallen onto him, he was offered a plea deal. Testify against the doctor, and he would only serve six months. Daniel took the deal.
After that, Daniel had difficulty finding a job. He. Was a felon, and there was only low-paying grunt work for felons. None of his talents with spreadsheet formulas of mathematical calculations mattered. When interviewed, they only saw a criminal.
He lived in a community living facility, one constructed with the dregs of society in mind. It was a place of filth, sickness, and crime. He tried hard to make the best of things, but life was impossibly hard now. Hard and lonely.
Worst off, he became the mistake they made in the first place. An alcoholic, prone to blackouts and waking up in odd places. He hated himself for this part more so than anything else. It was something that grew to hold control over him in such a short amount of time, yet he saw no way out of it.
It was some kind of unconscious part of his brain that kept running when he was blacked out. Internet research was something he was good at, but consciously, he didn’t know what he was looking for until he saw it. The photo of a man, receiving an award. The caption reading, ‘Brent Wayward, rewarded for upgrading—‘ which is where the caption cut off.
It was also this unconscious push that found him in an alleyway during a rainstorm. He was trading cash for a paper bag. In the moment, he was too drunk to remember what he was doing. But later, when he pulled the item out of the bag, he remembered everything. Everything he thought would fix the problems pinning him down. He was sober, although not necessarily clear-headed. He headed out, placing the item in his coat pocket as he went.
He knew exactly where to be at exactly what time. A small diner, just as evening turned to night. The place was well lit, and he could see the man through the window as he approached.
Brent Wayward was a short, rotund individual that had spent most of his life behind a computer programming. He enjoyed silence and food, especially when they were grouped together. He sat alone in a corner of the diner. In front of him, his usual roast beef sandwich with steak fries and evening tea devoured. He only glanced up to give a smile to a passing waitress that dropped off a piece of pie for him. Putting down his paper, his chubby little fingers grabbed a fork and began digging into the pie.
Brent didn’t know that someone had been tracing his steps recently. That he had a shadow learning his routines, his habits, his haunts. He didn’t know how many times Daniel hid outside the diner, just across the street, timing when he entered and when he left. Brent was happily oblivious in the moment, just like every other day before this one.
Daniel entered and walked up to Brent. Brent did not look up, not realizing that Daniel was standing over him.
“Brent Wayward?” Daniel asked. Brent finally raised his head, looking up with a bit of a surprised expression. He took in Daniel’s appearance and a wave of sympathy washed over him.
“Yes? Is there something I can do for you sir?” Brent responded.
“You’re the Brent Wayward that reworked the Right to Procreation lottery system?” Daniel asked, his hand inside his coat pocket.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I think we should talk.”
“I’m sorry, what is this about?”
Daniel pulled the revolver out of his coat pocket and pointed it to the side. Brent’s sympathy turned to panic as he scurried in place. Daniel blocked his position though, so there was no way out of the booth. Other patrons shouted in surprise and quickly began shuffling out of the diner. The waitresses retreated to the kitchen where the chef was already dialing the police.
“My name’s Daniel Crowford and you ruined my life,” Daniel said as he raised the gun toward Brent. Brent shook and tried to cover his face.
“What are you talking about? I don’t even know who you are. Why me? Please, don’t do this,” Brent begged.
“I think you should seriously consider removing the lottery from the Right to Procreation process. It leaves undesirable results,” Daniel explained.
“I have no control over that. I only wrote the code. There are other people in charge of how it’s used,” Brent looked at Daniel through his fingers. His heart pounded hard in his chest. His breathing began to quicken ad his face turned red.
“Then you should take me to them. Now,” Daniel demanded. He reached down and grabbed Brent’s shirt with his free hand. He tried to lift him out of the booth, but Brent weighed more than Daniel realized.
Brent slapped Daniel’s hand out of the way and grabbed at his own chest. He struggled to reach into his pocket.
“What? What the hell is wrong with you? Get up,” Daniel continued to demand. Brent did not oblige.
Brent finally got his hand into his pocket and retrieved a pill bottle. He struggled to open it, and when he did, the contents flew across the table. Still struggling, He attempted to reach over the table to grab one of the pills. He wasn’t successful in time, and his face landed in his pie as his heart gave out.
Daniel, shocked by what was happening, reached down and found the pill bottle. They were aspirin, commonly used to prevent heart damage during heart attacks. Daniel fell to his knees and dropped the pill bottle.
“No,” Daniel said as he began to weep. “No, you took everything from me and now you take my vengeance?” Daniel struggled with his emotions. His face grew red as he tried to flex away the pain. Tears washed down his face and he screamed. The barrel of the revolver found its way to Daniel’s temple. He called out to Claire, to the family he would never have. He pulled the trigger.
The gun jammed.
Officer Calihan closed the car door with Daniel in the back seat. Officer Whitmore walked up to him after taking a statement from the cook. He looked into the squad car. Daniel was mute, and had been since the police arrived. He stared forward blankly, looking broken.
“What do you think is gonna happen to him?” Whitmore asked as he looked away from the car.
“Not sure. Carrying without a permit and intent to harm with a deadly weapon are both felonies. He’s got a third on his record for attempting to de-neuter himself without a permit,” Calihan responded.
“So life?” Whitmore asked. Calihan shrugged.
“Maybe, but they always give these baby nuts a psych evaluation. He could just as easily be put away in a ward or a home. From the looks of it, he’s probably heading in that direction,” Calihan said as the officers get into the car. “In the meantime, it’s solitary and suicide watch, ain’t it pal?”
Daniel turned his head to see Calihan staring at him through the rearview mirror. He said nothing.
“Ah, this guy’s piss drunk,” Calihan said as he flipped on the lights and drove toward the station.
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