THE PEACE KEEPERS

by Tom Tryst

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You coming down with something?” In the months they had been on Paradise, he has noted that nobody has been sick. Unusual.

  Again, a long pause.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything until I’m sure,” she begins, obviously reluctant to say what is bothering her. She looks up at him for the first time. “I’m late.”

  It took him a moment to realize what she meant. “You’re late?” he utters in amazement.

  “Five days,” comes the soft reply.

  “Oh, my God!” he responds softly, trying to wrap his mind around what she is saying. They had long ago decided not to bring children into such a troubled world, a decision reinforced with the arrival of the Peace Keepers. Now, both in their late forties, both had assumed they were beyond even considering having children. Back on Earth, she was on the pill, and even so, when she was most apt to become impregnated, he wore a condom. They no longer had birth control medication, nor did they have condoms, so they abstained from sex when she was ovulating.

  “Are you telling me you’re pregnant?” he asks.

  “No, I’m simply saying I should have started my period five days ago.”

  “But how is that possible? We’ve always taken precautions.”

  She shrugs. “I could just be going into menopause,” she offers. “I am 47 you know.”

  He lets that sink in. “Having a kid would complicate things. I’m not all that sure that this is going to be our life. I guess I’m still a little suspicious of the aliens.”

  “Well, don’t panic,” she responds, getting a little annoyed with his response. “We won’t know for sure for a while. Women sometimes miss a month.”

  From her tone, he knows he has offended her. “So if you are, we have a great place here to raise a child. And by the time you would be due, the hospital should be operational. Even if you aren’t . . . maybe it’s about time we consider it.”

  “Nice try, Romeo. I know you’re not ready. For that matter, neither am I. I had given up even the thought of becoming a mother.”

  “Well, really, it wouldn’t be so bad to . . . “

  She cut him off. “See! ‘Not so bad’” she quotes him. “You’re not ready to be a father any more than I am to be a mother. So let’s just drop it until we know for sure. We can deal with it then.”

  “You’re right,” he replies, knowing it will be his foremost thought in the following days. Then he has another thought. “You haven’t said anything about this to anyone else, have you?”

  “No. We’ll keep it just between us - until we know for sure.”

  “Right.” He bends his head down to kiss her on the top of her head.

  Both are silent for a long time, both far from being sleepy. Both are doing what they just agreed not to do - worry.

  Daniel is the one to break the long silence. “You know, maybe it would be a good thing, to have a child. It would give us purpose, raising him. Lord knows we have little here to hope for but the same thing, day after day, forever.”

  She has to giggle at the ‘him.’

  “What?” he insists.

  “You said ‘him.’ So you want a boy, do you?”

  He shrugs. “A little girl would be nice, too.”

  She rises up to scoot next to him, putting both arms around his neck. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about this anymore. Neither a late period nor a missed period means I’m pregnant. So let it go. I’ll let you know of any changes.”

  “I don’t think I can get to sleep now,” he declares.

  “Me, neither.”

  “What do you want to do?” he asks, sliding an arm around to fondle a breast.

  She abruptly pulls away, and starts to get out of bed. “No way. Danger period.”

  He tries to pull her back. “But, Baby . . . “

  ”Come on,” she says, pulling free and starting to get out of bed, “let’s have another round of dominoes. You can keep score. I know you like to cheat.”

  “Not the game I had in mind,” he replies, feigning sulking, “But, OK.”

  It takes two games before they begin getting sleepy. It is late and they have to be up with the sun.

  None of the vegetable gardens are fully providing food yet. The dining hall has been closed down; the farmers are expected to prepare their own meals. The weeks they have been training in cooking the communal meals with local foods has well-prepared them for home food preparation. Twice a week, a robot brings in a load of food from the distribution center. The women come in those mornings to pick up the food package their family will need until the next shipment. Most everything is fresh, both fruit and vegetables, but there are also sacks of grains, both whole and ground into a flour. The nearby forests provide some of their diet. Clear plastic containers have prepared condiments as well as a variety of teas and ground beans that resembled coffee. Reusable jugs contain a variety of juices. One of the liquids is mildly alcoholic.

  It has become a habit for the ladies to linger after their ‘shopping,’ gathering in groups to spend a half-hour or so visiting, for since their classes ended, they see each other only on these brief occasions. It is a time to gossip.

  Sherry, Janet, Carol, Debby, Donna and Tabitha always found a table together. The dismantled kitchen still had hot and cold drinks available for these occasions, as well as for other community gatherings.

  “I hear there are now four women who are pregnant,” Donna begins.

  “More than four,” advises Tabitha with a broad grin, but says little more.

  “Are you pregnant, too?” Donna demands.

  Still grinning, Tabitha just nods. “Nothing official yet. I’ve missed my last two. Victor is taking me to the Center tomorrow to have a medic check me.”

  This surprises the other women in their farming cluster, for she hadn’t said anything to them. The talk centers on raising a child on Paradise. This prompts Sherry to respond.

  “I’m a month late!” she exclaims, breaking her agreement with Daniel.

  This immediately prompts Janet to blurt out, “I missed my last period!”

  “Mom!” cries her shocked daughter, Debby. “You’re too old to have any more children!”

  Janet just laughs. “Apparently not! And I’m not that old!”

  “And neither am I!” insists Sherry.

  “My, God!” exclaims Donna, “It’s an epidemic! I wonder how many of our group are pregnant.”

  “What do you expect?” declares Sherry. “With the extended life span they promise, our years of fertility have probably expanded.”

  “Well, I’m not going to get pregnant!” declares Debby. “I’m too young to get tied down with crying brats.”

  “Good luck with that!” another exclaims.

  Janet directs her comment to Sherry, her being the Warden’s wife. “Do you think the aliens want us all pregnant? They haven’t provided us with any kind of protection.”

  “I asked Dan that same question,” Sherry responds. “He says he hasn’t heard anything to that effect, but he wouldn’t doubt it. They want these farms all over the planet. Probably on others. We’re going to be the source of much of the food.”

  “Well, I don’t doubt it, either,” says Carol. “Thank God I’m too old to worry about getting pregnant.”

  “So you think!” responds Sherry.

  “Do you realize that three out of the five of us are pregnant?” asks Sherry.”I wonder how many others are.”

  “Make that three plus six others that we know of,” corrects Donna.

  Sherry recalculates. “That’s nine out of 29 women! Almost one-third!”

  “Must be something in the water,” Debby jokes.

  “Wait! I just had a thought,” Donna declares. “What if the aliens are doing something that makes us pregnant. Maybe something in the food . . . Oh, my God. What if our guys’ little swimmers don’t die off! If we do it once - any time of the month - we get pregnant!”

  This stuns the prattling group
into silence.

  Sherry quickly intercedes, “Let’s not get carried away. Not everybody is getting pregnant. You’re not pregnant, so unless you’ve cut your hubby off, your theory doesn’t hold water.”

  “It’s something to think about!" Donna insists.

  “No, it isn’t,” Sherry scolds. “Don’t go starting rumors and scaring everyone!”

  While Donna sulks, the mood changes. The general attitude is that Paradise is a great place to raise children, and all childless couples should consider raising a family. By the time they must get back home, Sherry is looking at her possible pregnancy as a good thing.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  At the request of 37, Daniel has called for a meeting of all the adult men, specifically exempting their wives. This upsets some of the women, but they are placated by telling them it is simply an update of farming procedures; it wouldn’t interest them. It is set for mid-afternoon; their men will be home in time for supper.

  Those in the cluster of five farms east of the Center, Daniel and his close group, are making the trip in one of the wheeled carts, a cross between a golf cart and an all-terrain vehicle. It carries the five easily following the mowed walking path, its wide wheels not disturbing the thick lawn.

  “What’s this all about?” asks David, sitting next to his brother in the front seat, a little annoyed at the mystery behind the meeting. They can speak in normal tones, for the cart makes no noise as it moves at 25 to 30 miles per hour, depending on the slope.

  Daniel, driving, takes his hands off the wheel for a second to spread them. “I don’t know myself. All 37 said was to have every adult male at the Center by 1400 hours.”

  “Is this going to be another speech by the Universal Council,” asks Charles, his dislike for the aliens obvious in his tone.

  “Don’t know!” insists Daniel.

  “I’ve often wondered,” says Victor, joining in the conversation, “How can you tell when it’s 37 speaking or the aliens? It’s the same voice.”

  “Yeah,” interjects Charles, “If the damn thing’s mouth moved when it was it talking, we could tell. It’s weird listening to it.”

  “You know, sometimes I can’t - at least not at first,” Daniel admits, then tries to change the subject. “So, Victor, how’s it feel to know you’re going to be a father?”

  “Great! I’m just not looking forward to the morning sickness and all that.”

  David has to put in his two-cents worth. “Just wait until she starts putting on weight and her belly gets grotesque. The only good thing is when the breasts start getting bigger.”

  Victor only smiles.

  “That’s what I’m going to dread,” says Daniel, “that beautiful body getting all out of shape.”

  “So, are you ready to be a dad?” David asks his brother. He is speaking to his brother, but both he and Victor respond with a definite ’NO!’

  “I’ve raised two,” David reminds them. “Jon’s taken one off my hands. Soon Darrel will be gone. Now we’re starting all over again.”

  Jonathon, silent until now, speaks up, “And we’re going to wait for a while. Neither of us is in a hurry to be parents.”

  “Better stop drinking the water!” Charles teases, referring to the rumor that the water of Paradise is making them more fertile.

  While a walk from their farms is an easy twenty minutes, it takes them less than four minutes to get to the center. Other carts are already parked out front. They enter the building ten minutes ahead of the scheduled time. Android 37 is standing at the head of several rows of chairs, silent and motionless. It doesn’t respond as the five takes seats. It appears that they are the last to arrive.

  They talk among themselves in lowered tones, knowing that 37 won’t address them until precisely 1400 hours.

  As expected, on the hour, 37 speaks, lips unmoving, “Welcome, friends. I see all are present, so let us begin. In answer to your common question: Yes, the Universal Council will speak to you. Please listen without interruption. Questions will be answered after we have spoken.”

  Almost without a pause, the android continues, “Greetings from the Universal Council, Citizens of Paradise, we bid you peace and good health.” It is obviously the Council speaking through Android 37.

  “Thank you for taking the time from your busy days to listen to what we have to say. We know that the recent number of your women becoming pregnant has concerned some of you. No, there is nothing in the water causing this. You are aware that we have chosen only those bonded couples that still can produce offspring. We expect you to reproduce and fill the planet. The entire planet is being homesteaded by what you call ‘Caucasians,’ beings with common DNA. And all speak English. And all profess to be Christians. The purpose is to have an entire planet of one species, one ethnicity, one sect and speaking one language. This should avoid the human tendency for conflict.

  “We expect all couples to bear offspring, not just once, but as often as health allows. None of your women are too old to bear offspring and raise them to adulthood. You will note that your health has improved. Likewise, your life expectancy will increase. Most of you should live to be one hundred Earth years old; many will live even longer. Your offspring will live even longer. We know some think they are too old, while others are undecided as to even having offspring. Please understand: part of the agreement to immigrate to Paradise is that you settle it and fill the planet with your offspring. It is your duty.

  “As you should be aware by now, your part of the mutual trade agreement is to provide certain foods that we need to guarantee our survival. And here we are speaking of the multitude of planets comprising the Universal Council. We are pleased to provide for your needs in exchange for you providing for some of ours. For you to do so, meet your part of the trade agreement, we need for the entire planet to be under cultivation. We know that will take time. While each Ward will be self-ruling, such rule will be in harmony with the rule of every other Ward on the planet. Your assigned androids will serve in an advisory capacity to assure that harmony.

  “So, we expect every married woman to be impregnated within the next three months. Single women will marry by age 18, or when they become impregnated, whichever comes first. Those women who cannot, or will not, bear offspring will be assigned to assist in births, care for orphaned offspring, and provide infant care to give parents a break. You were created with the inborn need to procreate; do not interfere with that natural drive. We know that this demand will offend some. Consider it a duty rather than an obligation. We are not asking anything that is contrary to your natural inclinations.

  “You will find that maintaining your assigned acreage will not take much of your time. You will have ample time to care for your offspring, and still have time for recreation. Your job one is family. Job two is agriculture. Should you find that you’re having a difficult time with any aspect of your lives, contact your elected Warden, who will in turn work with your assigned Peace Keeper advisor for remedies. Your Advisor will answer any questions you have. We wish you peace, happiness and health.”

  After a stunned silence, they realize the speech is over. Hands shoot up.

  “Let me answer the questions most have,” 37 states, reading their thoughts. “Yes, birthing is obligatory unless there is a health issue that would prevent a healthy pregnancy. No, your wives will not have to ‘pop out’ one child after another. No, there is no ‘quota.’ No, you do not have to have offspring. Women declining will be assigned full-time duties in some aspect of infant care.”

  Daniel had stood up and joined 37. He addressed the android, choosing to speak for the benefit of the other men, “Let me see if I have this straight. This also applies to our children? They have to marry?”

  “Yes, if a mate is available.”

  “And girls must marry when turning 18?”

  “Yes, if physically and mentally capable of having offspring. Because of the conditions on this world, your children will mature almost three times faster than hum
an babies. And live much longer. In your years, they will be ready for marriage at age six - physically and emotionally. They will be mature adults.”

  “And what age for boys?”

  “The same.”

  Without pause, Daniel continues, “So if a girl can’t find a mate at age eighteen, or age six, is she still expected to get pregnant?”

  “No. If a suitable mate is not available locally, we will assist in finding one from other areas.”

  The muttering from the men indicates they don’t like that.

  Daniel presses, “So are we talking about forced marriage here?”

  “No, is she cannot find a suitable mate, she will be assigned to infant care until she does. That is, if she is willing to have her own infants.”

  Charles is standing and demands, “My wife is too old to have children. Are we exempt?”

  “First, Carol is not too old. Second, you are not exempt,” is 37's response, using her given name.

  Daniel raises a hand to stop Charles, seeing that he is getting mad. “We know what happens to women who don’t cooperate. What happens to the husbands?”

  “They can’t run a farm on their own. They have a choice. Either be reassigned to non-farm work along with their mate, or terminate the marriage and take another wife to help run the farm.”

  “How about eighteen-year-old boys who can’t find a mate?” Daniel demands. He is trying to cover all the bases before turning it over to the men, knowing there will be angry responses.

  “The same. We will try to find a mate from other areas. In the meantime, he would be assigned non-farm duties,” 37 answers.

  “The Council was rather vague regarding the number of children each couple must have,” Daniel states. “If a couple starts reproducing at eighteen, they could have dozens of babies before they get too old. There has to be a limit.”

  “All I can say on behalf of the Universal Council is that it will be reasonable.”

  “Just what the hell is ‘reasonable’? Four? Six? A dozen?” Daniel demands, himself getting angry.

  “It is not for us to say. Each case will be determined by the circumstances.”