Adam’s Blog

That’s my thing, keepin’ the faith, baby. –Joe Friday

Frozen Generation Midweek Trackbacks

Posted by Adam Graham on March 20, 2007

The following is an excerpt from Andrea Graham’s short story, “Frozen Generation” which appears in Light at the Edge of Darkness scheduled for release next month from Writer’s Cafe Press.

I WATCHED THE MECHANICAL arm remove a post-gestational fetus from the purple semi-transparent encasement. The Kevlar and steel womb could have slept a half-dozen grown men, easy.

Based on the Product of Conception’s development, under other circumstances, the male child would’ve been transferred to the nursery a year ago. By law, fifteen minutes separated a POC from a non-person—the more dignified slave designation—so breeders gave living spare parts no freedom.

The doomed POC sure screamed like any free child, though. It screamed as the mechanical arm whisked it through the air. It screamed as the arm dropped it in the separator. It screamed until the droning silver cylinder silenced the screams, extracting the beating heart needed to save the baby the parents had wanted.

I lowered my head. My eyes remained as dry as the Sahara, which my ancestors had called home before that POC’s ancestors reduced mine to chattel. Maybe the soldier who executed my husband fathered the child. Maybe his mother made the report about my husband’s preaching against my current employer, against the breeders turning the descendants of slave and master alike into chattel.

I whispered, “The sins of the fathers.”

Harvesting organs from female POCs didn’t bother me at all. I didn’t even weep when a precious Black baby girl slipped through my sticky fingers. Better they meet this end than face the life that awaited female slaves.

My daily quota met, I leapt up from the evil console I used to manipulate the mechanical arm. I kept my head down to avoid the ever-watching eye. My supervisor perused the security camera and might discern in my eyes the urge to walk out the door and never come back.

A silent frozen cry pierced me, removing all thought of quitting. I headed down the sterile-white corridor to the freezer.

At the steel door, I punched in my code. The lock hissed and the door slid open. I grabbed a coat and an embryo rack from my cubby before stepping inside the burning sub-zero temperatures. I pulled my palm-computer out of my coat pocket and double-checked my list for the right shelf.

My tear ducts threatened to frost as I walked down rows upon rows of frozen humanity, up to three months gestational age at this facility; another processed late-term pregnancy terminations. The bio-mothers had declared all non-human products of conception. Only, most chose selling their offspring to science, or into slavery, over paying to dispose them.

Nearly two-thirds of the babies conceived in Philadelphia this year would be processed through this facility. A disproportionate number were my own people, beautiful Black babies betrayed by the very souls God appointed to protect them.

God appointed me to deliver the captives to safety, as Harriet Tubman had in centuries gone by. Only Harriet never hid her passengers in her womb.

Click here to read more about Light at the Edge of Darkness.

Now, onto today’s trackback party. Here are the rules.

1) Post about anything that’s in good taste. No porn, no spam, no profanity.
2) Send me a trackback of any tasteful post you want and as soon as I check my blog, I’ll update this post with your link provided you link back to this thread. If your software won’t allow you to send trackbacks, just use the Wizbang Standalone Pinger.
3) Deadline is Wednesday at 11:00 PM MT. Further trackbacks won’t be posted after that time.

For your convenience here’s today’s link. If you’re a registered user, the, trackback should appear below. If not, here’s the process:

Enter the characters as shown in the box and something like this should appear

This is a Trackback URL that’s good one time only so that we can seperate humans from spammer bots.

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This exchange has it all. Hysteria. Insanity. Ultra Progressive Talking Points. The inability to substantiate claims. Continuous, non stop chatter, including interuptions, with said talking points without giving the other side a break. False &quot…

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