Three weeks before publication of my dystopian Sci-fi novel, “Sex War One,” on December 15th. Here’s the third segment of the award-winning short story, “The Monster,” which serves as the basis for the book. Available for preorders at “Sex War One” Kindle Edition & “Sex War One” Smashwords Edition for iBookstore, Sony, Kobo, B&N & more.
“It is not our fault that the Birth-Machine made a mistake,” said B.F., a member of an older generation of the colony-citizens. “There is a rule that specifically forbids us from keeping such a creature in our colony, not belonging to our advanced race. This error in judgment, indulgence even on D.L.’s part, will be discovered sooner or later. And we will all suffer for it.”
“It was our mistake, not the Birth-Machine’s mistake,” stated D.L.
“No. It was the mistake of the Birth-Machine!” retorted N.R., raising her voice louder than needed for the citizens to hear her clearly.
Quiet prevailed now. Only a faint, dull buzz could be heard, coming from somewhere deep underneath the floor.
“She is harmless and troubles no one. I take care of her all by myself,” said D.L., still calm and in control of his emotions.
“Exactly so,” said N.R. “You have it all to yourself, don’t you? We have no say or share in it. And you spend too much time with it, instead of devoting all your time and energy to the matters of the colony.”
“There have never been any complaints as to how I am performing my duties as your secretary. My free time is my own time.”
“But not if it’s in violation of the colony-rules. Not if your free ‘hobby’ can bring sickness to us all,” said Q.T., a woman who was sitting on N.R.’s right side. “This Monster carries within it a disease from days long past. A disease that can infect and kill us all!”
They all looked at D.L now. But he did not look back at them: his eyes were fixed on a small, brownish dot in the otherwise shiny gray plastic floor. He remembered how Z.Z. was born, and the huge commotion she had brought along with her. How he had taken responsibility for the mistake of the Birth-Machine, he remembered too, and how much time and effort he had invested in taking care of her and in raising her in the last eighteen colony-years. He remembered it all very well.
“What do you suggest, N.R.?” he asked.
“Destroy it, D.L., that’s what I suggest. Not inside the colony, of course, but outside. We cannot allow the Mother-Colony to find out about it.” And then, on second thought, N.R. added: “And bring us a proof of it being dead, too.”
She surveyed the citizens carefully, seeking approval from them, which she received, it seemed to D.L., from some – if not yet from most – of the assembled citizens. They either nodded their heads, or tapped their hands lightly on their knees. He noticed also, as silence continued, how S.O. was looking at him concerned. He thought of his friend K.G. and deliberated whether to call on him for support, asking him to join the assembly.