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Her Parts

P. Keith Boran

I


    “They got me on my way to work,” he said coldly, “I had missed the bus; they were waiting.” His suit was ratty, the knees smudged with grease, the right sleeve torn, and his temple was caked with dried blood. He sat huddled in a corner, trying not to cry, knowing he would never see his family and friends again.
    “Well, you just sit here and rest,” she said, “it’ll get easier, I promise.” “How long have you been here,” he asked hesitantly. He wandered into her eyes, for they were big, and pretty, and brown. “I don’t know,” she said quietly, “long enough, I suppose.” He smiled a fake smile, one given to inspire hope in a hopeless situation.

II


    An ambitious man in a lab coat waited by a machine. Amongst its humming and gyrating, his thoughts roamed to the serum’s formula once more. “It’s going to work this time,” he told himself, “it has too.” And after a few moments, the machine stopped all the commotion, producing a vial of liquid dark in color. He placed a syringe in the vial, carefully extracted his latest compound from its home. And after rolling up his sleeve, he placed the needle in a vein most willing, pushing the plunger down. “So,” he said confidently, “that’s what curing cancer feels like.”

III


    He fidgeted with the stained mattress, praying he’d soon awake from all of this. She sat next to him. “So where were they waiting for you,” he finally asked. “They didn’t wait for me,” she whispered, “they kicked in my front door.” “I’ve never heard of E-Volvs invading a human’s home,” he replied in a tone of confusion, “I thought they ambushed all the way.” “Well,” she continued, “I guess they knew.” His brow narrowed in curiousity. “Knew what,” he asked. “That my girl parts had just started to work,” she answered. His eyes grew wide in recognition of the scenario – they were alone together, in a stall, with a mattress. And then he cried, for he missed his wife.
IV


    “Well I’ll be,” he whispered above the microscope. For the serum hadn’t destroyed the tumor growing inside him, but had changed it. Now the tumor was an ally. It was no longer attacking cells healthy and normal, but had aligned itself with them, forcing them to grow as well. And the lump of cells once bent on killing him slow, were now making him well again.
    And within a week, the same tumor that had threatened his mortality – the inspiration for his research of late – had allowed him to grow significantly taller, stronger, healthier, and smarter. And as he studied the results consistently, his ego grew, for not only had he cheated death, but he’d won a Nobel prize too. And when pressed, he’d casually remark, “No, I didn’t cure cancer, I just put it on our payroll.” And then, everyone would laugh.
V


    They waited silently. He waited to awake, and she waited for him to break. She heard it first, the movement; it was feeding time. An E-Volv made his way down the corridor, dumping a slimy substance into the buckets. And they ate with their hands.
    After a moment, the food was gone, the bucket empty. And the silence had returned in a haze of realization, of desperation, of despair. “So,” he said at last, “when do we start?” She caught a glimpse of his eyes, sad and gray, and knew he had little fight left. “Soon,” she replied, “when my body’s ready.” He poked at the straw surrounding the mattress. “Is that why they grabbed me,” he asked, “to breed?” “No,” she said hesitantly, “I’m afraid it’s not.”

VI


    His drug of wonder needed a name. He thought of one most appropriate, most fitting. His serum had established a new form of human evolution, allowing society to no longer fear the tumors that grew within them. So, he called it E-Volv. And it was a hit, a sensation. Overnight, he became a billionaire as those afflicted with cancer came knocking at the door. And people grew taller, stronger, healthier, and smarter over time. Those left without a tumor, without a need for E-Volv, began to feel insecure, to feel threatened, to feel envy. Not at first, for they were happy to see their relatives survive an illness once terminal, but no one likes being left out of the loop, out of the group, feeling insufficient and different from the rest.
    At first, these feelings culminated in a tension, one most were quite able to live with and bear. But when the creator – the original E-Volv – failed to die despite his old age, things became a little unpleasant: finger pointing, minor skirmishes, and a few accusatory remarks transpired. People lived in fear. For those denied the serum felt they’d soon be replaced, leaving the human race endangered, and eventually extinct. And on his birthday, when the creator celebrated his 200th year, a human attempted to murder him and failed.

VII


    He rolled off of her. “Did that do the trick,” he asked. She looked down. “We’ll do it several times more to make sure,” she replied. He laid on his back, his panting dissolved as he caught his breath once more. “Alright,” he said calmly. He no longer felt pain from his injuries, his muscles relaxed. It had gone better than he’d thought it might, for she had coached him, helping it to last. And he was grateful.
    “When you become pregnant,” he asked, “what’ll happen next?” Covering her body, she sat up. The scars on her naked torso were many, too many for someone so young. “I’m not entirely sure,” she whispered, “it depends.” He found her eyes again, still pretty, still brown. “Depends on what,” he asked. She looked at him hard for a moment, and he could see the gears turning in her mind, helping her decide what to say. “You need to rest,” she replied, “we’ll do it again soon.”
    But he turned towards her, grabbing her hand. “How many times have you had to do this,” he asked sympathetically. She gently pushed him back to the mattress, stroking his brow with her free hand. “Shhh,” she whispered, “we both must sleep.” And soon, he began to drift away. And when he was gone, she laid down beside him, and cried herself to sleep.


VIII


    The failed assassination led to war. But winning that war was not the issue. No, the real problem was what to do with humans once the E-Volvs took control. He could slaughter them completely, ridding himself of a species flawed and dangerous. But the creator wanted to show mercy, and thus ordered a large sanctuary to be established. It would be well guarded for sure, but allowed humans the ability to continue their lives as they once had. “See,” he’d remark casually, “not all of these simple creatures are violent.” Still, a few wealthy patrons were allowed admittance to the sanctuary, to hunt and catch humans as they pleased. And with a few decades between the war and the present, E-Volvs had domesticated humans, using their bodies for food, for labor, for materials.
    And as the decades became centuries, the E-Volvs adopted their own language and customs, letting the language of man become lost, become forgotten, for it was a remnant of a primitive species. But everyone agreed, the humans were a most useful animal, most useful indeed.

IX


    He rolled off her again. “How about now,” he asked in a exasperated tone. She looked down again. “I think we got it,” she replied evenly as sweat dripped down her forehead. That was the tenth and final time they copulated, for she was certain of it now. Having been pregnant many times, the signs, the symptoms, were most familiar to her. “Now what,” he asked. “We wait,” she said, “for it will come soon enough.” And soon it did. An E-Volv and its offspring opened the door, immediately shocking him with a prod. He laid on the ground in confusion. “I don’t understand,” he screamed as they dragged him away. “I’m sorry,” she yelled, “I’m so sorry.” But he was long gone. She wondered whether he really had to be told what would happen next, or if he’d known the entire time. And she sat, on a mattress, pregnant and alone, for the thirtieth time in her life.

X


    She sat the plate on the table. Dinner had been served. They all sat around the table, discussing their day and the like. After a few moments, one remarked, “this human is mighty fine.” And with that, the entire table agreed. “Oh,” another replied, “we had it killed just today.” Everyone nodded as they ate. “Is that right,” one remarked. “How nice,” another said. And then, they discussed the weather.



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