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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Cultural · #1987445
It's cool to be cruel..
      "There is the political America ; laws , The Declaration of Eugenics,
      finally put human reproduction under the control of the Congress.
      Before that people just had sexual congress without any regard for
      the burden they would put on society and the ecology." Tomas explained
      as he rented a carriage. Stacy his daughter stared at the horse with
      astonishment. "It's breathing." she gasped. There were no horses on Mars.
      hovercrafts were the primary mode. Tomas shook his head and smiled,
      "Yes. Simple, but, clean transportation. The use of combustion engines
      is strictly limited. Many decades of pollution forced the global restrictions
      of fossil fuels. Her name is Patches." Tomas patted the horse and adjusted
      her bit and harness.

      "Yep. That's right. She's a good girl." the carriage man answered.
      "You Martians sure are burly." he continued as he loaded their baggage..
      "What do you mean 'burly' ?" Stacy took offence and her eyes narrowed.
      The carriage man spit some tobacco out at their feet.
      "I know a cattle girl from Dakota looks a lot like you. She can throw 80 pound
      sacks of corn and bailed hay all day. I like that in a woman. She has a lot to
      grab." the carriage man winked at Stacy with a smirk.
      "Oh yeah ?" Stacy walked behind the carriage and lifted the back end up to
      her chest and then lowered it back down gently. The carriage man stepped back
      quickly.  "Hallelujah ! You wanna get hitched?" Stacy shrugged and got in the
      carriage .. Tomas laughed and swiped his federal credit card through the man's
      cell phone.

      Martians were genetically engineered for endurance in harsh environments..
      The carriage rolled over the asphalt of the New York Turnpike.
      "You picked a crazy time to visit. We got problems. Some folks want to be
      independent and that's not allowed." the carriage man spoke from his cab.
      "We're here for a meeting with Congressman Whitney. We'd like more breeding rights."
      Tomas answered through the cab intercom .. "I want a baby." Stacy piped up.
      "Good luck. I've had a permit in for months. I don't think they need another cabby."
      the carriage man laughed and spit.

      The Brooklyn  Bridge was lit as they entered the great metropolis of Manhattan ...
      the capital of America...

      "Civil unrest, crop failures, lower wages and the high cost of living . They can all
      lead to war. . Hell. That's how America got out of its debt. They just declared war
      with the countries they owed money to." the carriage man loved to preach.
      Tomas pointed to the colossal statue to the last President of the United States.
      "She brought order to a world in anarchy." Tomas said. "I love the rumble of the
      carriage wheels." Stacy replied. She was overwhelmed by the great city and all
      of its strange sights and people. "Can we ride a train!" Stacy exclaimed pointing
      to the monorail over head . "Yes. But, were here to petition our congressman.
      Remember?" Her father looked tired.

      "Oh? Yeah." Stacy smiled back and ate some celery. "Your a bit young to be worrying
      about such things." It was the pale lady from the terminal. She extended her slender
      hand into Tomas huge hand. "I'm Congresswoman Whitney." She smiled and shook
      the Martian's hand. "Woman? We thought .. ehm . It is a honor to meet you." Stacy
      bowed respectfully. "We Martians bow to greet" Tomas explained.
      "Yes-yes. I am so absent minded." the congresswoman bowed back.
      "Let's go to my office. It's on the 3rd floor."  Mrs. Whitney lead the Martians to her
      colonial home and sat at her oak desk. Tomas and Stacy sat on the couch.
      They were too large for her chairs.

      "Sooo. Do you want a clone or conceive?" The congresswoman gave a gentle smile.
      "I want a baby!" Stacy answered excitedly. "And will the father be?" Mrs. Whitney continued.
      Stacy giggled : "Martian women don't need men."  Mrs. Whitney raised her left eye brow,
      "I see now why your reproduction is closely monitored. You Martians could easily out
      breed Earthers." Mrs. Whitney said tersely as she tapped on her key board.

      "Fascinating. Martian women are genetically engineered to self impregnate.
      But, they are strictly monitored by Planed Parenthood officers. So you came to me
      for what?" Mrs. Whitney asked with an unflinching gaze.

      "Asylum .. My daughter is pregnant and we want to keep the child." Tomas answered.
      The congresswoman squirmed in her French chair. "How is she your daughter?"
      she asked. . "I bore her in my youth and then grew into a man." Tomas replied.
      Mrs. Whitney reached for a glass and poured some claret. "I see." Her voice was faint.
      "There is a right to life in our constitution".. She poured more claret.. "I will support
      your petition to stop an abortion of your daughter's fetus. It will be decided by a
      Justice Geovanti in 60 days from today. You will be given ankle bracelet trackers
    and your fetus will be monitored .. You may stay here as my guests."
    Tomas and Stacy embraced with jubilant tears.

    to be continued... >+<
     
     
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1987445