Fantasy The People Makers

Abner swallowed heavily. Suddenly he wondered how he had gotten into this. When he had first arrived, a few short days ago he had been turned off by the whole idea of participating in the Experiment. But Susan had been so kind... so loving.... But now she wanted to create a race of people whose genes would be mostly hers, and less so his. He felt kind of insulted.

He felt all eyes on him. It would be embarrassing and contentious to back out now. Additionally, Susan might stop being his friend and a friend was what he badly needed now.

"Yes," he said. "I agree."

The results came in almost immediately, as quickly as last time. The progress of the society peaked at the 600 year mark, with an E3 for Technology (nuclear), E3 for Art (some flashes of insight), E3 for standard of living (all material needs met), an E3 for population growth, an E3 for Emotionality and Self-Awareness, and an E2 for Community. But these ratings dropped precipitously by the 800th year, and by the thousand year mark the average rating was E2. The overall composite score was 510... out of a thousand.

Abner didn't have to analyze the fallen expression on Susan's face to know they had failed. They filed out of the Committee Room wordlessly. They went to Algeria and had dinner. Susan still didn't speak. Finally Abner, desperate to fill the silence, said, "Listen, we could try again. We could try a different combination of genes-"

"No." Susan shook her head. "We... we're not a good pairing, Abner."

"But we get along so well together-"

"I meant on a genetic level," said Susan ruefully. "If we paired again, I would just be dragging you down. Your composite score could go even lower, and you don't want that." She paused. "What you need is a different partner."

"No." Abner shook his head. "That's it. I'm not going to participate in this anymore. I'm done."

"Abner, don't you want to make good use of the time you have left?" Susan asked.

"Whatever time I have left I'll use on my own," said Abner.

"You don't understand," Susan sighed. "Abner the official line the Federationistas tell us is that we will all eventually die of sudden cellular decay from croysleep, sometime after three to six months after being revived."

"Is that true?"

"In part," said Susan. "But I have seen people live longer, much longer, eight, nine, even ten months. And all the ones who lived longer were the ones with the highest scores, the ones the Federationistas thought might be useful to them." She looked at him meaningfully.

"You're saying-"

"The rumor is that they have the means to prolong lives. The lives of those who they think might be useful. If you don't keep participating in the Experiment, if you don't keep producing halfway decent results which hold out the hope of something more, you will die in three to six months, that is for sure."

"How... how will it happen?"

Susan shrugged. "It always seems to happen at night, when you're asleep. We wake up each morning, see who doesn't show up for breakfast, and then we find their bodies all white, bone dry and powdery. That's right, their bodies turned to powder in the night."

"Is it... is it painful?"

"I don't know," said Susan, avoiding his eye. "I imagine so."

Abner bit his lip. "If... if I agreed to do it again, who would I choose?"

"I've been thinking about that." Suddenly Susan's whole demeanor changed. She turned to face him and even smiled. "I think the problem is that you're a bit of a follower and you need someone with leadership skills to counterbalance you."

"Leadership skills?"

"Yes. And it turns out I know just the woman. The First One."

"Bessie?" said Abner.

"She's our leader. She has more leadership ability in her DNA than anyone else here," said Susan. "I... I understand you might not find her to be an ideal mate. But that's not the issue here, Abner. We're not talking about a lifelong marriage death until you part situation. We're talking about a simple genetic pairing. If you paired with Bessie and produced a great result, even a merely promising result, I'll bet you could add weeks onto your lifespan. Maybe even months!"

Her excitement was infectious. Abner found himself agreeing without really thinking about it.

Bessie looked very pleased to see them again. She still looked very fat sitting behind the small desk in her tiny office. The rolls of fat were like rolling hills going down her body. "Abner! How have you been doing?"

"Uh... fine, I guess," said Abner, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"First One, Abner has something he'd like to tell you," said Susan. "A proposal."

"A proposal! Well well! What kind of proposal is that?" Bessie sat back, making her chair groan uncomfortably.

"I... uh....." Abner struggled to get the words out. Somehow, staring at the obese woman opposite him, he just couldn't get the words out.

"Abner wants to pair with you!" said Susan brightly.

"He does!" Bessie's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Do you really, Abner?"

Abner felt all eyes on him once again. "Y-yes," he mumbled.

"Why, that's splendid!" said Bessie. "I know we'll make the most wonderful pairing! And of course, since traditionally applicants come to me for a pre-screening meeting, we can dispense with that." She gave a sly smile. "The next meeting of the Committee is in two days. We can have sexual intercourse either tomorrow night or tonight. How does that sound? Why don't we do it tonight, and get it out of the way? What do you think, Abner?"

"S-sex?" said Abner.

"Of course," said Bessie. She looked from one to the other. "You didn't tell him?"

Susan wet her lips. "Abner, the Federationistas have to approve your application to pair with Bessie. They compare and consult with your gene plates, of course, but they also really like to see the applicants having sex with each other at least once. They place value on emotional compatibility as well, an expression of the genes, you see." She paused. "You and I did it as a matter of natural course, so maybe you didn't get the connection, but it would really be useful if you would have sex with Bessie at least once. Twice would be even better."

"T-twice?"

"Don't scare the boy. Once is enough, if you show enthusiasm," said Bessie genially.

"C-can we just say we did it?" Abner asked.

Bessie shook her head. "The Federationistas know. They always know."

"They.... they watch?"

Bessie nodded. "It's a fact. They want to see that we're compatible."

"I... I don't know," said Abner. "I've only ever slept... had sex... with Susan. I'm not used to sleeping around, excuse my words-"

"Of course," said Bessie. "And in a normal world, you would only sleep with a woman you are in love with, Abner. I can see you're a sensitive boy who doesn't like to sleep around, and that's to be commended. But the Experiment had different needs. This isn't about love, not at all, but saving the entire human race, don't you see?"

Abner nodded.

"So come to my quarters at 9 tonight and we'll do it. You might be surprised. It could even be fun." She winked at him, and Abner shuddered.

Abner was glum at dinner. Susan had told him afterwards he not only had to have sex with Bessie, but he had to look happy about it. "The Federationistas will be watching."

Abner didn't know if he could do it. He wasn't even attracted to Bessie. In fact, he found her rolls of fat distinctly repulsive.

Craig Cobin, Roland Miller and a man Abner didn't know named Benny sat down with him.

"How's it going, guy?" said Craig, hitting him in the arm. "Did you and Susan repopulate the human race?"

"No," said Abner. "We only got a score of 510."

Craig gave a derisive laugh.

"Don't be mean," said Roland. "There are partners who have scored less, a lot less. A score of 400 is not unusual."

"Really?" said Abner.

"510 is average, sort of. A bit below average, maybe, but well within the mean," said Roland. "The rock stars are the ones who get 600 or 650."

"But I was told a passing grade was a minimum of 800."

"It is," said Roland grimly. "No one's gotten it. Don't feel so bad, you've only just begun."

"Yes," said Craig, putting an arm around Abner. "There is a whole Space Station full of females to choose from, each eager for fresh meat."

Abner pulled away from his touch.

"He's already picked one," said Benny.

"What?" said Craig.

"He's already picked someone to polish his armor," said Benny. "He's going to have Bessie polish it."

"Bessie? You're going to fuck Bessie?" Craig slapped the table and started to laugh hysterically.

"How... how did you know that?" Abner asked. He looked at Benny. Benny was a big man with a dazed expression on his face. His eyes had a faraway look.

"Benny knows things," Roland explained. "So you're going to do it? You're really going to pair with Bessie?" He shook his head. "I have to hand it to Susan, she does really good work."

"What do you mean?" said Abner.

"She's one of Bessie's little birds," said Roland. "She snared you, and took you to her nest."

"No.... It couldn't be."

"It is," said Roland. "It's not too late to change your mind, however. Of course, Bessie might not take a rejection very well."

"What do you mean?"

"Bessie sits on the Committee," Roland explained. "If you reject her, you may never get an approved pairing with anyone else. Of course, Graylor makes the final decision, but he realizes heavily on Bessie and Frog."

"Fine," said Abner. "I don't need to keep doing this."

At that moment there was a collective gasp as a stretcher on wheels made its way through Algeria. It was being pulled on one end by Hot Dog and on the other by Hamburger. "Make way please make way," said Hot Dog, with a little smile.

On the stretcher was a woman, or what remained of a woman. Her body had turned to white powder. Her face, her hands, her body... it was all just powder.

"What is that?" Abner said.

"That, I believe, is Nancy Pepsi," said Roland. "She's like you, Abner."

"What do you mean?"

"She refused to participate in the Experiment. Said it was demeaning, to treat human beings like breeding animals. She's only been here what... a few weeks, I think?"

"Not more than a month," said Craig. "That was quick."

"You never know when total cellular disruption will occur," said Roland.

Abner gulped as he saw the powdery body carried by him. "Susan... Susan told me that they can keep people alive. The ones that are useful to them."

"That's a pet theory," said Roland. "Some people believe that. And it's true that those of us who last the longest do seem to be among the high scorers. Of course, the Federationistas deny it totally, so who really knows what to believe."

"Do... do these Federationistas really want us to have sex with our partners?" Abner asked, thinking of Bessie.

"Yes," said Craig immediately.

"No," said Roland.

"Of course they do."

"They have never formally said that," said Roland. "Like everything else here, it's a rumor."

"A powerful one. Remember Julie Haggerty? She kept getting turned down for pairings because she wouldn't have sex with her partners," said Craig.

"Remember Gully Crayford? His pairing got approved and he didn't have sex with his partner," said Roland.

"Who?"

"Gully Crayford."

Craig shook his head. "That was before my time."

"He's going to do it," said Benny. "He's going to have Bessie polish his armor."

"What armor?" said Abner.

"What he's saying, dear Abner, dear, sweet Abner, is that you're going to fuck our Bessie. You're going to stick your tiny dick in that big, huge, beached whale of a girl and give it all you've got. Isn't that so?" said Craig with a grin.

Abner bit his lip and abruptly got up and left, to the sounds of laughter.

"Come in, Abner," said Bessie, in a soft voice. Bessie was lying on a giant queen sized bed. Her bedroom was an enormous anteroom of a palace, complete with tall orange pillars 40 feet tall. The room was huge, hundreds of feet in every direction. Bessie's bed was on a platform on the middle of the room.

Abner climbed one step, then another, then another. When he got to the top step he saw Bessie, wearing a transparent nightie. She did indeed look like a beached whale, with enormous rolls of blubber.

"Come on," she said, waving a pudgy hand. "I won't bite."

Bessie didn't bite, but she did gasp and moaned as Abner put it into her. It had been no easy feat. She had an enormous roll of blubber covering her vagina. Abner had been perplexed about where to put it in her until she lifted the roll with one hand and guided him in with the other. Because the connection was so tenuous he kept falling out of her. He quickly learned to do small, tiny thrusts, pulling out only an inch or so before moving back into her.

Bessie groaned with abandon. "Oh Abner! Oh Abner Abner Abner!" she cried. Perhaps she was acting. Perhaps she really felt something. But Abner felt nothing. Bessie's vagina was as large as a spaceplane hanger. He felt like he was making love to empty space.

He kept thrusting diligently into her, hoping for the moment which would never come.

"Oh Abner, I'm coming! I'm going to come, Abner!" Then she whispered in his ear. "Come!"

"What?"

"Come, you idiot!"

Abner suddenly gasped. "Ooooh!"

"Oh!" Bessie cried.

"Oh, oh, oh!"Abner cried out, collapsing on top of her. However terrible this experience had been, he had been so incredibly glad that he was on top, and not the bottom. He wouldn't have survived otherwise.

Bessie pat his hair. "You did wonderfully," she whispered.

"Yes, Graylor. We're going to use 75% of my gene plate," said Bessie, smiling smugly. "Accentuating my leadership and determination skills."

"75% won't leave much for Abner," said Graylor.

"Well... we can use some of his follower instinct. Some of his humbleness, I suppose," said Bessie.

Abner shouldn't have been surprised. Bessie had never bothered to discuss any of this with him. His approval was just expected. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was simply a follower.

He saw Frog shifting uncomfortably in the background, playing with his fingers. Frog hadn't said a word, not one, since they pairing was announced.

Graylor studied their gene plates a while longer, before slowly nodding. "All right. Let's give it a try. Hisssss!"

A few moments later it was done.

450. That was their composite score after a thousand years of watching their descendants develop. They had reasonably good Population and Community scores, E4 and E5 respectively, but Art was E3, Technology was E3, Standard of Living was E2, and Emotionality and Self-Awareness was E1, rock bottom.

Bessie shrugged her enormous shoulders when it was done. "Well, it was worth a try. I tried to salvage the best parts of you, but you still managed to drag my score down. No, don't be sad, Abner, I never hold a grudge. Perhaps you'll find another woman to partner with who will do better to complement your deficits."

But Abner didn't find another woman. After three consecutive failures, he was no longer Fresh Meat. He was simply another failure, like all the others. Women who had eyed him speculatively and smiled at him now ignored him.

And as for Susan, she wouldn't even talk to him. He came to her quarters but she resisted his entry with the palm of her hand. "I think it's time we spent some time apart, Abner," she said.

"Apart?" said Abner.

"I've been happy getting to know you. It's time I never would have traded for anything else in the whole wide world," said Susan. "But I have to think about my future, my genetic future, and I have to focus on finding a compatible mate. You understand, don't you?"

Abner did. As he sat glumly all by himself in Bermuda, watching the tide go in and out, Frog came over to him. "Don't be discouraged, Abner. Three tries is only the beginning."

Abner shook his head. "I'm never going to try again."

Frog leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You have to try, Abner. You have to keep trying." His talk crystal chained around his neck flickered with every word.​