Cautionary Tales
Page 23
What religion, then, do I think should be taught in schools? My answer is simple: all of them. Children should be exposed to the essential tenets of every major religion and many of the minor ones, objectively presented by people who do not belong to the religions they describe. Then adherents of those religions should also be invited to express their beliefs to classes of children. Yes, including atheism and voodoo and even the Flying Spaghetti Monster. In this manner students can form their own opinions, based on information rather than prejudice. Then, responsibly educated, they can choose a religion to join, or none. The separation of church from state should also be taught: many today do not know that America is a secular nation, not a Christian one.
Note: I was asked to contribute to a volume of opinions: What religion, if any, should be taught in schools? This is my answer. It is perhaps my favorite essay of this volume.
Caution: this torpedoes Xanth
20. Adult Conspiracy
He was lovely. She was handsome. They made a nice couple in the magic land of Xanth. They embraced. Then they did something naughty. How had all this come about?
Esk Ogre had found Bria Brassie when she was lost, and the brass girl had taken a shine to him despite his fleshly nature and occasionally ogreish temper. So she married him, and impressed on him just how soft she could make herself be, when she chose. Since it was a warm day, she took off her clothing, consisting mainly of brass panties and a brassiere, so she could better demonstrate her softness.
This had an odd effect on Esk: the softer and cooler her body became, the harder and hotter his became, until she realized that there was nothing for it but to soften him before he got so metal hard as to be unable to function. She had not married him, after all, to turn him into a brassie man. She removed his clothing, but somehow he just stared at her and got even more so. She realized that a stronger measure was required. So she took his hardest part and put it into her softest part, as deeply as possible, and gave him her coolest, wettest kiss. “I love you,” she said softly.
The result was dismayingly explosive. But after a moment she realized that he had not gotten so hot as to melt away; only part of him had dissolved, while the rest had merely softened. That was a relief!
Steam formed above them, swirling into a pattern. Bria realized that the heat of Esk’s explosion, though muffled by her metallic coolness, had caused a magic Ellipsis to form: three glowing dots. The dots hovered only long enough to verify that it was time to signal the stork. They took a reading on the two people, classifying them by species and type. Then they took off, forging across the Land of Xanth through field and forest, o’er hill and dale, and all that, until they reached the top secret Stork Works. They could not enter that dread fastness, for this was the ultimate bastion of the Adult Conspiracy. No one was allowed to know what went on inside. Instead they struck the order receipt antenna and delivered their information: identical twins, hard and soft, male and female. Then, their mission completed, the dots faded out.
A screen lit. Specifications flowed across it, defining the genome.
SPECIES: Human
NUMBER: Two
GENDER: Male/Female
And on, in a torrent of information only a machine could assimilate: tissue and blood types, neuro-electric parameters, chemical composition, metabolism, magic talent, everything. All coded at the outset, together with permissible deviance from the norm. Soon the model genome was formed: the specification.
Had there been any animate intelligence present, it would have been amazed. Identical twins of different sexes? That must have been Xanth’s hardest and softest coupling! But there was no such intelligence, so there was no question. The number and gender information was merely noted.
Now the machinery addressed the living component. An impulse traveled through the network, bypassing the assorted entries for mouse, sparrow, goldfish, toad, lizard and the like, until stopping at the cage labeled HUMAN FEMALE.
In that hutch lay a naked woman. There was a tube for water and a dish for food; her wastes passed through the mesh floor to enter the sewer pit. The odor was intense. She screamed as the clamps came down on her arms, legs and torso. She tried to escape, but the cage was so small it was impossible. She was pinned down as a beam of light played across her abdomen. A nozzle squirted an antiseptic solution. She screamed again as the needle came down and plunged into her belly, and once more as it penetrated her left ovary and extracted one unripe egg cell. Then the needle withdrew with its burden, and the clamps released. The woman’s screams subsided as she dabbed at the bit of blood leaking from the puncture wound. She knew that the torture was over for now; it might be as long as two days before the next extraction was made. That was all she lived for: a day or so of respite. When her supply of usable eggs was depleted, she would be disposed of, and a fresh new brood woman installed.
The egg was piped to the central gene-splicing laboratory, where it was microscopically examined. A precise electronic surgery adjusted the genes of its chromosomes in rapid order, making them match those of the model genome.
Meanwhile the impulse stopped at the cage of a naked man. He tried to fight as the clamps caught him, but they were far too strong. They bent him over the milking stand as the beam of light and disinfectant came. A suction sheath closed about his dangling penis. A prod slid into his anus, locked onto his prostate gland, and squeezed. A small jolt of current made the gland convulse, forcing seminal fluid down the urethra and into the sheath. Then the prod and cup withdrew and the clamps released. He was done, for now.
The seminal fluid was centrifuged and its sperm cells separated. They were conducted to the laboratory where the genes were adjusted to conform to the specification. Then the sperm cell whose conformance was greatest was conducted to the holding spot for forced union with the egg cell. The gametes merged and the zygote formed. It was reviewed and found to be in conformance to the specification. It was ready for implantation in a host body. Right after being micro-surgically cleaved into twain, and the sex of the better half changed.
Lea had almost given up looking for the kind of job she wanted: well paying, easy, exciting, and limited to a year or so. She had just graduated from high school and wanted some fun before settling down to the grind of higher education, marriage and family. Then she saw the ad:
NANNY: WELL PAYING, EASY, EXCITING. MUST BE AGE 18-24, HEALTHY, WILLING TO RELOCATE. ONE YEAR EMPLOYMENT. NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY. CALL 555-9268 EXT 4.
That was it! Lea was going-on-eighteen, healthy, and without experience. She was willing to relocate, especially if that meant traveling. Like maybe on a fancy yacht, taking care of Lord Bilgerberger’s four-year-old kid while he and the missus visited the dowager queen. In her time off she could tour the great cities of the world whose ports the yacht visited. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be quite that exciting, but still, it looked like her ideal job.
She called the number and got an appointment. The woman who interviewed her was very nice, even inquiring what kind of job Lea had imagined as ideal, and Lea told her. “Of course that’s just fantasy,” she confessed. “Much as I’d adore it, I don’t really expect anything like that.”
“Oh, but the position is like that,” the woman said warmly. “And you seem to be perfect. When can you start?”
Talk of dreams coming true!
In two days Lea was ready to report for work. She had cleared her absence with her folks by means of no really strenuous white lies, packed her things, and come to the house. She stepped inside, and saw an odd green melon or gourd sitting on a shelf at about eye level. It had a little hole in the end. She peeked in.
The zygote was conveyed to the cage of a third human woman. She was naked, but it seemed that she had been recently clothed, because the skin of one slender wrist was faded where a band might have been, her plump buttocks were much lighter than her legs, her young breasts bore the fading indentations of a supportive garment, and her small feet showed no sign of calluses. She was clamped and di
sinfected, and an instrument inserted into her virginal vagina and her cervix for dilation. The zygote was fastened to the inner wall of the uterus. Then the instruments withdrew and she was released.
This young woman did not scream or try to resist. She was passive. In fact she seemed to be unconscious. One eye was closed; the other was locked on a little hole in a green gourd. The gourd was set in a framework near the top of the cage, at eye level. Sometimes the woman’s lips moved, as if she were subvocalizing. It was as if she were dreaming, and unable to wake. She did not seem to be unhappy, merely oblivious. Even when all of her bodily hair was shaved away, including her nice long tresses above and her pubic region below, causing her to resemble a mannequin.
It was lovely on the Fantasy Cruise ship. It had something like thirteen decks, with a pool on each one, as well as a restaurant and ballroom. Lea had a cabin near her employer’s suite, which she shared with four-year-old Junior, who was a remarkably well behaved little boy. She had to see that he was safely in bed by eight P.M. and up by eight A.M., breakfasted and appropriately dressed. She was free to go out on her own while Junior slept, to converse with other passengers, to dance, and to flirt, provided she did nothing to bring discredit on her employer. She had a credit card good for any food or incidentals, which her employer covered without debiting her pay as long as she did not abuse it. She carried a beeper which would signal her if Junior woke and needed her, or if he left his bed. She could also use it to signal her employer if there were any problem she couldn’t handle. It was, she had to agree, an easy yoke she wore.
Meanwhile the ship was traveling. Miami, Jamaica, Panama, with pleasant tourist stops at each key port. At first Junior spent the days with his parents, but Lea got along with him so well that increasingly he preferred to see the sights with her. Because they were unwilling to let him leave the ship without them, Lea had to join them for such excursions. Not only did that mean that they found it necessary to buy her more elaborate clothing, so as to maintain appearances, and to treat her somewhat like a family member, it meant she would be paid for the extra hours. “We had intended to provide you more free time,” her employer explained somewhat apologetically. But she enjoyed her “on” time as much as her “off” time, so she had no complaints.
An example of the joys of “on” time occurred near the South American continent. There was a special deck reserved for the most affluent clients. Lea had to bring Junior there so he could get a better view of the locks of the Panama Canal. But she was challenged at the entry stair. “I don’t see your name on the list,” the steward said brusquely.
“But I have to take—”
“Get out of here before I throw you out, girl.”
Junior looked up at her, smiling. “Use the beeper,” he suggested.
Lea did. She beeped her employer. Just once, not pushing her luck. In a surprisingly brief time the ship’s captain appeared. “What seems to be the problem?” he inquired gruffly.
“This idiot girl and brat tried to sneak onto the reserve deck.”
The captain glanced at Junior, who wore a name tag. He turned to the steward. “You are new here, so I will allow this to pass. But if you make another mistake of this nature, you will be summarily dismissed.” Her turned to Lea as the steward’s jaw dropped. “I shall be pleased to conduct you and Junior to the deck; you are expected.”
“See?” Junior said, smirking. “The captain’s my buddy.”
“True,” the captain said, gallantly offering Lea his arm. He escorted the two of them in style to the deck, where the employer waited with just the hint of a smile. He had evidently fathomed the problem, and taken the necessary action.
No steward challenged Lea again, ever, not even when she was alone. This was just as well, because despite her excellent life she often did not feel well in the mornings. Sometimes she had to make a fast break for the nearest lavatory, whether it was reserved for passenger or crew. She saw the ship’s head doctor, who suggested that it was nothing serious, probably just a touch of seasickness. Reassured, she tided through, and usually felt better later in the day.
Sometimes the woman smiled, as if enjoying something. Her eye remained fixed on the gourd, whether waking or sleeping. But she had to be fed, exercised and cleaned regularly. At appropriate intervals the clamps came on and tubes were inserted into oral, urethral and anal orifices to bring nutrients to her stomach and convey away urinary and fecal wastes. Regular enemas made certain there were no stoppages. Between times she was exercised: her body was supported so that her head did not move from the vicinity of the gourd while mild electric prods caused the muscles of her body to flex repeatedly, sustaining muscle tone. Her hair was beginning to grow back, and it was disinfected.
As her pregnancy advanced, her breasts expanded and her stomach began to react. On occasion she vomited. The machines promptly cleaned her up and reinserted the nutrients. They kept her upright so that it was impossible to choke on the emerging fluid. They continued the specified exercise program. The body remained healthy. All was in order.
Down the west coast of South America for a week at Santiago, Chile, with offshoot tours of one of the least known outposts of the Inca empire. Onward to Antarctica to admire the walls of ice and trek across a large iceberg, admiring the penguins. Lea’s siege of morning queasiness passed, but she felt oddly heavy, as if she had gained weight. The mirror showed that her figure remained perfectly trim. It was funny how she got these weird notions.
Meanwhile she was closer than ever to her employer and his wife. Once he summoned her to his suite when she knew that Junior and his mother were elsewhere on the ship, and she had a passing qualm. Sometimes more was expected of employees than was proper. But it was all right: he was holding the cellular phone. “Your family is inquiring; speak to them,” he said, and departed, leaving her with the phone. She was making an international call! She reassured her mother that everything was fine, and that their next port was to be at New Zealand, and then Melbourne, Australia, with a side jaunt to Tasmania. She was learning a lot of geography, and loving every minute of it.
Machines monitored the developing fetuses. The host’s blood was tested, and instruments measured every aspect of the situation. If any problem manifested, any deviance from the specification, the foeti would be summarily aborted and new ones implanted. But all was in order. The regimen continued.
Singapore, Bombay, Cairo, with leisurely pauses and side excursions all along the way. Lea was coming to feel like a seasoned world traveler—as indeed she was. Then on through the Mediterranean Sea. She had toured the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Indian oceans, and was coming to the underside of Europe, having crossed three quarters of the globe. She and Junior were almost inseparable. She began to fear how it would be when the cruise ended and they had to part.
She was feeling positively ponderous. It was illusory, of course, because she hadn’t gained a pound, and she moved as well as she ever had. Often she swam in one of the pools, and she remained sleek in a swimsuit. She was popular with the athletic young men on the cruise, though none attempted to take unwarranted liberties. Could her problem be some sort of guilt at the sheer joy of her current life? Her unconscious mind punishing her by making her feel elephantine? Yet she wasn’t aware of any guilt. She had been hired to do a job, and she was doing it well; everyone said so. So she tried to put aside her peculiar sensations, lest she be considered crazy. Certainly her private feeling seemed irrational.
In the late stages the host was floated in a vat of warm water, so that she wouldn’t develop bedsores from continual confinement. The machines and probes caused her to exercise by making swimming motions with her arms and legs. Special attention was paid to her abdominal musculature, so as to facilitate natural parturition. The machines could cut the babies out of her body readily enough, but that entailed further delay for healing. Nature’s way was best, in those instances when it was feasible.
Lea took to swimming more often, and to soaking in a ho
t tub. That took the imaginary weight from her body. Junior liked to splash in the water, too, so that was fine.
They came to Crete and toured the ruins of the palace of Knossos, and visited the blasted remains of the isle of Thera, whose volcanic destruction had devastated the Minoan empire and precipitated the legend of Atlantis. Then Rome, where they toured the Vatican City and saw the Pope. Lisbon, and Paris, whose sights were such that they remained in the vicinity for almost a month, with a special bus ferrying them constantly to and from the ship.
Coincidentally, somewhere between London and Dublin, Lea suffered a sudden, intense siege of illness. It was as if she had swollen so hugely that she could neither walk nor breathe. As if she had somehow swallowed two watermelons whole, and they were squeezing on out of her nether tract. She was apologetic about defaulting on her job, but for a time she was confined in the ship hospital. Junior visited her often, hoping she would get better soon, because it was pretty dull just being with his folks.