Friday, July 18, 2014

Life Partner Part IV

By Bettyann Moore

Sleep never comes that night. I have been asked to think about two very large things and have no idea where to begin. Thinking belies the words that echoed throughout the Pleasure Dome: Don’t think, do. They served me well there.

First off, Boone can’t be right about Breeders never conceiving. There was Maya. Her belly had gotten big and round. Everyone was so excited … but then she had been taken away for a time and brought back, her belly flat once more. A false alarm, she told us. No matter how hard I wish it not to be so, Boone is right. At least during the 10 years I occupied it, the Pleasure Dome never produced a child.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Life Partner - Part III

By Bettyann Moore


The worst part about being interviewed by a humbot is having to make eye contact. It’s also necessary, or they’ll keep repeating the question or statements until you do. I’ve never been good at eye contact. The interview would have gone on for hours and hours if I hadn’t finally gotten the hang of it. And, taking my cues from Boone on the first day, I never lied. I also never volunteered any information … unless I wanted to lead them to a conclusion. Let’s face it, my sleep hadn’t been troubled for over 10 years. It was easy for me to figure out why, all of a sudden, I’d had a bad dream, but there would be real trouble if anyone else knew why. 

Friday, July 4, 2014

Life Partner - Part II

By Bettyann Moore

That night, I have a dream, the first one I’ve had since the Nursery.

I am back in the Pleasure Dome. I feel hemmed in, surrounded, as if on a crowded dance floor, but I’m alone. There is a door, one I’ve never seen before, far off in the distance. I move toward it, my bare feet quiet on the cool surface of the walk. I see myself in one CU-Screen after another as I pass them. As I near the door, I hear footsteps behind me, rapid, loud and echoing. The door swings open and there is light beyond. The footsteps draw nearer, but the door seems to have gotten farther away, not closer. I increase my pace, but on the screens I appear to be moving in slow-motion. Now running, I see the door begin to shut. The footsteps behind me have increased in number. I reach the door just as it’s about to close. I push through it and slam it behind me.

Again, I am alone, but breathe deeply, freely. I take a step. The door reopens, an arm snakes through, grabs me and pulls me back. I scream and I scream, but no sound comes out.
That night, I have a dream, the first one I’ve had since the Nursery.

I am back in the Pleasure Dome. I feel hemmed in, surrounded, as if on a crowded dance floor, but I’m alone. There is a door, one I’ve never seen before, far off in the distance. I move toward it, my bare feet quiet on the cool surface of the walk. I see myself in one CU-Screen after another as I pass them. As I near the door, I hear footsteps behind me, rapid, loud and echoing. The door swings open and there is light beyond. The footsteps draw nearer, but the door seems to have gotten farther away, not closer. I increase my pace, but on the screens I appear to be moving in slow-motion. Now running, I see the door begin to shut. The footsteps behind me have increased in number. I reach the door just as it’s about to close. I push through it and slam it behind me.

Again, I am alone, but breathe deeply, freely. I take a step. The door reopens, an arm snakes through, grabs me and pulls me back. I scream and I scream, but no sound comes out.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Life Partner - Part I

By Bettyann Moore

I only have 12 hours, 10 minutes and 19 seconds of freedom left and I feel utterly paralyzed. Though I have never met any, the Old Ones say that the last 24 hours are the worst, that the paralysis sets in and there’s nothing you can do about it. I believe it now. I always swore that it would be different for me, that I’d be Partnering with somebody – or several somebodies – up to the last second. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

There are those who whisper that our last vaccination, always given at puberty, contains a drug that keeps our minds and bodies ready and open for Partnering and that its effects wear off exactly 24 hours before our twentieth birthdays. I believe that now, too. It was as if a light went out in my head and between my legs. The very idea of Partnering makes me sick to the stomach. If it is a drug wearing off, it’s damn timely and effective.