Genesis: A science-fiction short story. by Jenna Inouye Read Free Book Online

Genesis
     
    A science-fiction short story.
     
    Jenna Inouye
    www.howtolivewrite.com
     
    COPYRIGHT NOTICE
     
    Genesis: A Science-Fiction Short Story
© 2014 Jenna Inouye
    Electronically published on May 11, 2014.
    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

    It began, as surprisingly quite a lot of things do, with a double murder homicide. On April 23 rd , 2022, a 46-year-old Milwaukee man named Brett Winston discovered that his 33-year-old wife, Catherine Winston, was pregnant. Knowing that he was infertile and that the child could not be his, Brett immediately accused his distraught and extremely confused wife of having an affair.
    Catherine’s tearful pleadings were not enough to sate her husband’s rage. The very next day, Brett shot Catherine and her 31-year-old co-worker, Sam Donner; both died immediately. He then returned to his home and shot himself three times in the heart. Brett remained in intensive care for six days and three hours before he expired.
    Of course, no one would connect this to Genesis , not until much later. When it occurred, it was only a brief side note, located in an unread magazine column regarding rising increases of domestic violence following the particularly harsh and cold winter. The column went on to accuse economic woes and continuously shifting of gender roles for the dramatic but not entirely unusual event.
    The first instance of what would become the most momentous development in the entire history of mankind simply faded away in the tear-filled eyes of family members and acquaintances. They would never know the truth; they had only a sequence of formless typography designed to fill the whitespace for their solace.
    The first known case of Genesis was actually the 489 th instance of it. That was when the world truly began to change—though perhaps it just became more of what it already was.
     
    Sylvia Rider taps her the stylus against the pad, nervously. The transparent plastic protective screening on the decade-old device is worn and peeling at the corners. It is old technology, the type typically reserved for governments and public schools. She wishes she had done more research, now, but there’s no more time; she simply has to do as best as she can.
    All of the data of her life is displayed before her on the screen; her income, her debt, her medical history and her state of mind. The essay portion stands alone: is it too long? Is it too short? Does she have any comma splices? Did they want the Oxford comma or not? She isn’t used to this, not even after her first two children. They change the rubric every quarter, to coincide with the current state of the world.
    And then there are the things that she can’t control: that her salary hasn’t increased with inflation, that she now has more mouths to feed, that she got into a motor vehicle accident earlier (minor) and that she was still paying off her medical bills (major). That she’s short, a little shorter than average, and that she’s gained some weight with age.
    In the back of her mind, of course, she’s hoping that none of this will matter; that she can neatly sidestep the protocols. But, deep down, she knows that isn’t a possibility. It wells up inside of her, a sickening, twisted feeling.
    She steels her resolve and taps the button at the bottom of the screen; it is final, and it is done. The small saving icon appears in the middle and rotates, stuttering slightly as the device struggles.
    Sylvia blanks out her mind. She can’t think about it any longer; it is out of her hands. She walks up to the small, narrow window