Part 3 (1/2)
”Stay with me?”
Linda nodded.
”At my house?”
”For a while. At least a day or two. Longer if I could. ”
”You really need to get back on your feet,” said Sarah. ”This is your home and it doesn't do any good to run from it. This is your place. ”
”My place,” said Linda. She stood over the spot where Larry had lain. Now that he was gone, the room seemed much more open, almost cavernous.
Sarah joined her. ”Is this it?” she asked.
”He fell right here next to the coffee table,” replied Linda.
”They really are quite efficient. the enforcement program is run so well. ”
”It is,” agreed Linda, noticing that even the blood had been cleaned up. All that remained was a small stain, barely noticeable, no worse than the tea spill on the other side of the room. But Linda would get all the stains out, the blood, the tea, everything. After all, Miracle Madness was on its way.
”I can stay for a bit,” said Sarah, turning on the television. She folded onto the couch, pried her shoes off, and clicked through channels looking for the television version of ”Phil's Follies. ”
”Stay for as long you can,” said Linda. ”I'll be with you in a moment. After I change. ” the lavender dress was beginning to weigh on her.
In her bedroom, Linda slipped off her high heels and set them in her closet. She then pulled off her dress and hung it neatly on a padded hanger. She lay down on her bed, closed her eyes, and folded her hands over her face. She exhaled, bathing her eyes and nose in the warmth of her own breath. She opened her mouth and made a guttural sound that echoed off her cupped hands.
She rolled onto her stomach, grabbed her stuffed cat, Sally, and pulled her close. She wanted to be a cat. No, a ferret, she would rather be a ferret. Linda slid off the bed and crouched on her hands and knees, almost feral. She could sleep here. She could sleep on the carpet once it was clean. That would be soon; Miracle Madness was coming.
”When clean isn't clean enough,” she moaned.
Linda reached under the bed and felt around blindly. She pulled out a shoe box adorned with a lavender bow-a beautiful bow she had tied nine months earlier. She loved tying bows and she was proud of this one, bold and perfectly proportioned. Lavender-she loved lavender. Linda untied the bow and carefully slid the ribbon off the box. She opened the box, pulled out a red card and a small revolver, and finally cried for the first time that night.
Ten With A Flag.
by Joseph Paul Haines.
Joseph Paul Haines is the author of several stories, which have appeared in magazines such as Interzone, Aeon Magazine, and Abyss & Apex. He is also the editor, with Samantha Henderson, of the anthology From the Trenches, and his short story collection, Ten With a Flag and Other Playthings, came out in November. This story first appeared in Interzone and was adapted to audio on the Transmissions From Beyond podcast.
Newly pregnant women face a great deal of difficult decisions, and modern medical procedures have only made those decisions more complex. Once, women expected to struggle through forty uncomfortable weeks, drive to the hospital, and go through the rigors of labor with their babies' entire future being a mystery. Boy or girl, no one knew. Healthy or ailing, no one could guess.
But today, a woman is confronted with medical technology almost from her first obstetric appointment. Should she have an ultrasound? What kinds of blood tests should she take? Should she ask for maternal serum screening? Is amniocentesis in order?
These are the questions facing today's pregnant woman. What about the mothers of the future? What kind of tests will be offered to them? What kind of choices will they need to make?
Our next story takes us into that future. Here is a world where it is possible to know too much about your baby's potential-or at least, a place where the government knows too much.
Johnnie didn't talk while he was driving. Normally it would drive me a little crazy, sitting there in traffic and not saying a word, but this time it didn't bother me. There was too much on my mind. Truth was, I hoped he wouldn't talk so that I could have some time to think. But when he pulled onto the freeway, I knew I wasn't going to get that lucky.
It only took him a couple of seconds to connect to the traffic web. Johnnie didn't like being out of control, it was one of the things I'd found endearing in him; quaint even. This time though, he didn't even double check the connection. The steering wheel folded and collapsed into the dash, and he turned to face me. ”What does that mean, exactly?” he asked. ”Did the doctor say anything else?”
I shook my head. ”He said he'd have to check, but he'd never heard of the combination coming up before. ”
”He'd have to check?”
”Yeah. ”
”Did he say anything else?”
”I told you, he said he'd have to check. ” I didn't know what to say. It was still sinking in.
Johnnie leaned back in his seat and stared out his window. I could tell he was getting ready to turn around and go back. We'd only been married three years, but I could read some of his expressions like a book. ”How's that even possible?” he asked. ”I mean, is the baby okay?”
”The baby is fine. ”
”Now I wish we didn't know. ”
I turned away from him. ”You agreed we should get the test done. ”
”I know, but. . . d.a.m.n. ”
”Don't you think it's better knowing?”
”How do you get a ten and a flag?” he asked.
”He said he'd have to check,” I repeated.
”But the baby's fine?”
”Yes. ”
”Are you sure he said ten?”
I nodded. ”Ten. ”
Johnnie crossed his arms and chewed on his bottom lip. I think he mumbled something, but at that point I didn't want to hear it.
We didn't talk for a while after that. I was contented to sit and watch the other transports as we cut in and out of traffic. It was like watching a school of fish swimming together, weaving at the same time. We rushed along at speeds of over two hundred kilometers with no more than a meter separating our vehicles, our safety in the control of the central traffic computer. Sometimes it was easier to let something bigger than yourself take control. It had a plan, and although you couldn't always see it, you knew you'd never wreck.
It wasn't until we sped past our off-ramp that I began to get concerned.
”Where we going?” I asked.
Johnnie didn't answer. He punched up the navigation screen and sighed. ”What the h.e.l.l?”
”What?”
”We've been redirected. We have an appointment with Human Services. Now. ”
”Now?”