Founder's Fountain

An atmo-blimp passes over head. Its digital banner scrolls, “Mother Angel Arrival in One Day - Check your Eligibility Now.” Hopeful young women stop in the streets. Their yearning faces crane towards the sky, desperate for their monthly visitation. They beckon to the holographic angels descending with babies in their arms.

It’s right about now I become conscious of the clench in my jaws. I’m disgusted with myself and everyone around me. STUPID. HOPEFUL. SHEEP. Having our children taken hostage has made us spineless, obedient surrogates on their nursery planet. I cringe at the thought of Aamala seeing how useless her mother has become.

I take a long drag from my herbal remedy stick. These things taste better with the carcinogens. But those aren’t good for cell development, so good luck finding them here. I toss the butt into the Founder’s Fountain, marking the center of Boom Town, as we call it. “Fountain.” Can it be any more obvious it wasn’t named by humans? The goddamn thing’s the size of Lake Eerie. The spout of opaque water in the center shoots up higher than Niagara Falls. Extraterrestrials from all over the galaxy come to see this thing pressure lactate.

An "angel" land a few yards away from me. It scans a crying woman’s eligibility for visitation rights. Confirmed. It hands its hologram baby to the woman. The blue particle image coos at her. She hugs it to her chest. I don’t think she even notices it disintegrate against her body. The angel lifts her robe. Hundreds of hologram children run out to the mothers. The Neo Lifers are profound in their psychological manipulation. Subtly is not their virtue. But no one seems to care. They just want their babies back.

One of their blue children run up to me. It lifts her arms to be picked up. I already know I’ve met my quota, but I hook my hands under its arms anyway and dangle it in front of me. It’s face transforms before my eyes. My heart stops for just a second. Those big almond eyes and heart shaped lips. It’s my Aamala’s face. But she weighs nothing. “You’re not my daughter,” I tell the particles. “This is not my daughter!” I scream at the atmo-blimp.

It fizzles out in my hands. The sheep stare at me. “Yeah, it’s not your kids either,” I spit. Something hard and narrow cracks into my back and I’m on the floor. Clink Clink Clink. Their cuffs snake around my wrists. A Neo Lifer kneels next to me, its underbite punching out at me like a fist. From its navy carbon fiber cloak, it draws a pair of tweezers, with my wet, herbal remedy butt in between. “It’s not mine,” I feign. It drops the butt into a DNA ID tube. The tiny, automated laboratory speaks its results in an ambivalent female voice, “7719. Emily Hicks.” I drop my head down and repeat our motto in unison with the Neo Lifer. “The fountain is a temple. It must be treated as such.” I feel the cool tip of the tranquilizer against my neck and I’m out.

I come to cuffed to the exam table. My legs are spread with my feet strapped into the metal stirrups, like Hannibal Lector’s about to give me a pap smear. “I already gave you my eggs this month,” I insist to the Neo Lifer. It has its cloak off now, exposing its hunched back and skeletal body. Humans underestimated their resilience. It speaks in its calm, electric voice. “The penalty for vandalism deficits your last harvesting intake. We will not be able to make an extraction until your next ovulation.” It wraps its arthritic fingers around my neck. It’s talons dig into my skin. “Eligibility cannot be granted in time for tomorrow’s visitations,” it reports as it scans the chip near my aorta. I watch the reader go from “ELIGIBLE” to “INELIGIBLE” with the press of a button. “You can’t do that!” I scream. “PLEASE!” I beg. “The fountain is a temple. It must be treated as such,” it quotes as it exits the collection room. I thrash against my restraints then crash back into the exam table. I close my eyes and try to think of something good. I start to feel the silky strands of Aamala’s hair between my fingers. I’m braiding her hair during last month’s visitation.

I’ve been alone with my thoughts for hours, staring out the window, at the fountain below. What’s so important about this thing? I think of Aamala. She’ll be terrified. I’ve never missed a visit in the 16 months since we were rounded up like the sheep on earth. What will they do? Will they keep her waiting, alone in a room, till it’s time to go back? Will they tell her I chose retaliation over motherhood? Or that I simply didn’t want to see her?! I can’t stomach the thought. I lean over the side and vomit. I could have choked. Is no one watching me? I spit a couple chunks into my pool of sick on the ground. A shimmer catches my eye, amongst the bile and kernels. It’s the goddamn pin to the cuffs, I can’t believe it. They must have dropped it. They never fuck up. This is gotta be my chance. I’m not going to be a sheep anymore. I’m going to do something. I’m going to be brave. And I’m going to start with that fountain.

I rock back and forth, building momentum, putting all my weight into the stirrups with each down swing. CRACK! The stirrup bars break away from the table. I slide my body as far to the side as my cuffs allow. I scoop at the key with my stirrup, using it like a ladle, but it just keeps sliding the pin further away. I contort my other leg in opposition to the key, and scoop against it with my other foot, like a broom against a dust pan. JACK POT! I twist my body with tedious precision, angling my foot towards the center of the table. I give it a light jiggle. The key sticks against the sweaty sole of my foot. I jiggle it a little harder and the pin drops. I look at my unknown future, lying between my knees, covered in vomit. How can something so small be so powerful? I take it in my mouth and dip it into the corresponding hole in my cuff. The metal rivets snake away, freeing me. I do the other and scramble to unbuckle my ankles from the stirrups. Well, I got all my body parts back. Now I just need to arm one of em.

I dart from corner to corner, like an insurgent from one of those post apocalyptic movies that used to be so popular…until it actually happened. Except instead of a gun or a baseball bat, I got a speculum. Hell, at least it’s metal. Maybe I won’t even need it; the fertility ward is deserted. I’ve never seen it with the lights dimmed. It’s creeping the shit out of me. I almost rather run into a Neo Lifer than be here alone. I know there’s a vertical transpo around the corner. I make a run for it. I turn the corner and come face to face with it’s navy cloak. I attack, swinging my speculum and kicking! I realize after a few moments of still being alive, that I’m fighting an empty cloak, hanging from a hook. I put it on and stand before the vertical transpo. “Ki-ook,” I order, making my saliva vibrate against the roof of my mouth to emulate their staticky voices. It opens. Fountain? What’s the word for fountain? Shit. Um…what about water? ”Plet-ra”, I blurt out. My stomach practically comes out of my throat as the v-po gets sucked down.

The doors open about a quarter mile from Founder’s Fountain.The streets are empty past curfew. Damn, the clay moon is almost at its crest above the fountain. There’s more light than I would like. I gotta be fast to not be seen. Wish I had shoes on. I take three short exhales and dart out. I hear quick patters behind me, then grunting. I look over my shoulder, but it’s moving so fast I can barely get whatever’s chasing me in focus. I see a black, viscous pelt, like a ripped sea lion. The moon light glistens off this quadrupeds musculature as it punches into the ground with each gallop. I run faster, if that’s even possible. I look back again, it’s too fast. It lets out a high pitch, seagull-ish scream. I release the cloak from around my neck. It slaps into the beast’s face and tangles around its legs, buying my a few extra seconds. Almost there. My heart feels like its gonna explode. I dive into the fountain as it pierces my ankle with its needly teeth. I swallow the agonizing pain as I hit the water and no sooner does it let go. I swing around, staring it in its yellow, drooping eyes. It whimpers, circling back and forth, seemingly unable, or maybe unwilling, to cross the threshold of the fountain. It whines and scampers away into the shadows. Weird.

Blood from the tiny punctures in my skin, mingles with the cloudy liquid in the fountain. I can’t discern where my skin ends and the water begins; it’s the same temperature as I am. I wade towards the center. It gets deeper the further you go. There’s something so…nurturing about being in here. I lay back, floating under the clay moon overhead. I wish Aamala could feel this strange sense of safety alongside me. A little bubble pops nearby. Then another. I flip myself upright. Shit. I drifted out too far. My feet don’t touch the bottom. A shadow from beneath gets larger as it floats towards the surface. Don’t. Run. This is what you risked everything for. A large bubble forms in front of me. I back away. POP. A tiny, sleeping face pierces the surface. It’s an infant. The rest of its perfect body breaches the surface. It has an umbilical cord. It’s still in gestation! It’s so beautiful. I steal a caress of its velvety skin.

The whole fountain is percolating. More babies rise to the surface. There’s hundreds, surrounding me. So this is what they’ve been doing with our eggs, using the fountain as a womb. That means, any one, or two, or three could be mine! I take the nearest baby in my arm, kicking hard to stay afloat. I search it’s face for similarities, but it’s still too young. “I love you anyway,” I whisper into its ear. Something pierces me in my wounded ankle. The water around me turns pink with blood. The babies eyes flip open and it goes for my face. Its mouth slides back over its gums, showing its rows of pointy shark teeth. I throw it as far as I can. It thrashes at me, held back by whatever its cord is attached to. The rest of babies start animating, in a wave rippling out. I start swimming against them. One bites onto my injured foot. This time, I scream. I lift my leg out of the water, my foot is gone past the first metatarsal. I swim harder. Their fleshy bodies knock into me from every direction, taking mouthfuls of me. I swallow the sweet liquid with each scream. They’ll stop the bleeding, I think, as I swim for my life. They wouldn’t waste me, not with so many eggs left to give! I jump onto the ledge of the fountain. “Help,” I scream, as one of their monsters tears a hole in my lower abdomen. My insides spill into Founder’s Fountain. It’s a feeding frenzy. I look up for my last few moments of my life, at the rows of Neo Lifers watching the success of their first test run come to an end. But all I can think is, what will they tell my Aamala.