Tuesday Treat

Progressive Story - Part Two
(for part one and the explanation, go HERE)

I can't let them do this, I thought. This isn't some whacko Stephen King nut-book, this story now being told by me, not one of those movies where pallid teen-agers gaze soulfully into each other's khol-rimmed eyes. Screw these guys.

"You're no more a doctor than my Aunt Freda," I said to the guy in front of me. "And you, moose-breath, take your filthy hands off me." The Doctor recoiled. Smith gasped.

"Now you sit, both of you, and listen and listen good, 'cos I'm only gonna tell yer the once." I'd always wanted to use my John Wayne. Damn, it felt good.

"You gotta be nice 'cos you know damn well you won't get it otherwise. The only smart thing you've done is set this up in a hospital. So give me the money first."

Michael Hanlon

To think that I got into this mess, all supposedly for the betterment of humankind.

My guts were screaming "no" when they inserted the computer chip under my skin. Why didn't I listen?

"Leading-edge technology" they told me. "Help us test it. Be the guinea pig. Think of the ultimate good."

Better than a Medic Alert bracelet, my medical history would be immediately scan-able. It made sense then, especially in my line of work.

But who knew what actually encrypted on the thing? Why did everyone want it? What relevance did it have to the upcoming election? And now, these two men hovering over me, simply expected to carve it out?

What about gloves? What about antiseptic? What about washing their hands, at least? No wonder they thought they needed the restraints. Thank god, we were in a hospital.

I wanted the damn thing out of me, true enough.

Christine Sharp

Suddenly a phone rang. It must have been in someone's pocket, for there was no sign of one in the bare, frightening room. The man in black spoke abruptly into a cell-phone he pulled out of his jacket.

Pretending to massage my aching knee, I listened hard, the phone in his hand only inches from my face. The excited voice at the other end was gabbling, a torrent of words from among which I was sure I heard "police", "abort", and "hurry!"

"That will be all for now, Miss Jones. You are free to go," the man in black almost yelled at me as Mr. Smith hurriedly stuffed his pockets with papers from a drawer he'd unlocked after one long stride to the desk.

"But, but . . ." I stammered.

"We'll call you, Miss Jones. This interview is over."

Who were these people? Doctors? Surely not. The Mafia? Terrorists?

I was petrified.

Margaret Bain

The air seemed to get sucked out of the room as the fleeing men slammed the door shut. Then just as harshly the door slammed open again to reveal a bow legged man dressed all in white. "Yes," my inner John Wayne cried. "The cavalry has arrived."

"We must leave at once," the stranger intoned raising his arm. The room started to spin and everything went a misty gray then nothingness.

I awoke in a dark cave to the smell of fresh chocolate and the warmth of a bon fire.

"Welcome back," the stranger said, handing me a cup of steaming cocoa. "Do you know who you are? Why those men want your chip? Or who you carry in your womb?"

"Wwwww . . .what?" I stammered.

Smiling kindly, the stranger explained my destiny to me and why parting with my chip would cause the world as I knew it to end.

C.L. Hannah

"My child will be . . . ?

"The king, in a new world order. No more elections or wars. One world currency. All swearing allegiance to your child."

"My memories . . . they're gone. I know only what you're telling me."

"That was necessary, along with the chip. There is an active resistance. Your life is in danger, and your child's. You did agree to be inseminated. I promise you that."

"But who is the father?"

"In science, it is neither necessary nor desirable that identities be known, although he certainly knew you."

"What happens now?"

"We hide you. Then we induce labour."

"And my future?"

"At present, you're this world's most wanted person. That chip contains DNA information. Armed with this, the resistance could make legions of identical offspring. You're our best hope for world peace."

"But . . . my future?"

"My dear, this is your finest hour. Be grateful for what you are giving to the world."

Laura MacCourt

"I am still not sure that I want to go through with this."

"Too late now, you choose the right door. Now you must do exactly as I tell you, one little mistake and this world can be blown to smithereens. So pay close attention.

"Go straight home, do not turn any of the lights on except the bathroom. Wrap your two index fingers in cotton wool and then tissues. Take a 45 minute shower, making sure that the hot water runs over the chip implanted in your side. Keep your wrapped fingers on either side of the chip, it will just slide out of you, leaving no scar. Make sure that you hold the chip between your covered fingers. At no time allow your flesh to come into contact with the chip. On the bathroom vanity you will find an open box of M&Ms, place the chip inside with the multi coloured M's, they represent all the colours of the World's Nations. Climb into bed and place the box in the centre of your breasts. Close your eyes and start to meditate, until you fall asleep.

"At daybreak you will wake to find the most beautiful piece of eye candy laying beside you. Look, but don't touch. He will be the most beautiful person any one has ever seen.

"He will have the looks of Clark Gable, the eyes of Paul Newman, the voice of Sean Connery, the build of John Wayne, the hair of Justin Bieber, the personality of Prince William, the heart and soul of Mother Teresa, and best of all the brain of Albert Einstein.

"And as the eyes are the windows to the soul, nothing but love will shine from him. He will rule the world with love and kindness.

"There will be no more fighting, no wars, no anger. And the world's motto will be love one another, and do unto others as you would have them do to you. There will be peace in all the world."

The End.

Ellen Curry