Procreators, Impregs

The Sire Project gave Angela so much to think about. This afternoon plenary session was in its third hour. Despite her boredom at the moment Angela knew she had been lucky to be selected, to go with Dr. Chatterjee and Ms. Canworthy and Mr. Alkaras and a few other bigwigs from the Project Central Administration, on that 5-hour drive to San Francisco for the Sire Project’s annual International Convention. It was her master’s degree work on organizing the huge “Sire Collection” at the Semillas University Library that got her here. In the process she had obtained a labyrinthine knowledge of the Project organization, such that even Mr. Alkaras, the Chairman of the Sire Project Board, sometimes had to ask her about it. They had installed her in a little office next to his, on the seventh floor of San Beueno Hall, the Project’s nerve center. There was now a name-plate on the door: “Angela Chin, Administrative Assistant”. She had become the go-to person as to contact information, finding committee reports, and who was currently in charge of what, in Semillas and around the world. It was hugely flattering, and also hugely a lot of work.

The Project was becoming so large that it was in danger of becoming unwieldy, around 20,000 employees worldwide, in almost every country. It got funding from dozens of sources, both public and private, and its budget was now over a billion dollars. Still not as large as its importance to the human race. Kai-Kai, that gentle boy everyone adored, carried that unique gene that would express itself in his children. Millions around the world died from autoimmune disorders which would be prevented by the vaccine to be made from his children’s blood plasma. Unfortunately the gene degraded quickly, and reverse engineering technology by hostile forces might confound the results, with impostor children being put forth and the ensuing chaos. It was clear from early on that Kai-Kai’s DNA had to be delivered “fresh”, through sexual intercourse. The goal was what everyone called “25 - 25”: having him impregnate 25,000 women by his 25th birthday. That way, there would be blood samples from enough children to make vaccines for the whole world. So far, they were on schedule, in fact a little ahead of it.

The next presenter was Aduare Ilunga, a tall Congolese woman in a colorful wrap who seemed even taller in her headdress. She was a little more animated and started with a funny story about three of the P-6’s she had met with recently in Kinshasa.

“P-6’s”. It referred to a stage in the Project process. Angela knew the terminology as well as anyone. Attempts had been made to name the stages according to plants or animals or even colors, but numbers ended up being the clearest and best. “P” stood, rather awkwardly, for “procreator”. P-0’s were those women who had applied to participate in the Project but hadn’t been accepted yet. P-1’s had been accepted but hadn’t yet been scheduled for impregnations (“impregs”). P-2’s had been scheduled for their week in Semillas, and were awaiting their flight. P-3’s were in Semillas, staying at that big Guest House run by Ms. Canworthy, waiting their turn. P-4’s had already been impregnated and were waiting for their flight out, though they could stay the whole rest of the week if they wanted to. P-5’s were those who had gone back to their home countries and were waiting the pregnancy results. P-6’s were confirmed pregnant, though this was almost a matter of course; the “drop rate” (those women who did not get pregnant) was less than 1%, so fertile was Kai-Kai’s semen, and so carefully were the women scheduled for their peak ovulation day. Finally P-7’s were those who had given birth and were raising Kai-Kai’s child as one of their own. Which was hardly ever a problem. All the P’s had gone through psychological testing. They also had to be over 30, with regular menstruations, and happily married with at least two children.

Also enumerated were the impregs. On a normal day Kai-Kai impregnated seven women, who were known as I-1 through I-7, at prescheduled times during the day, the first when he awoke at 6:30 a.m., the last at 10 p.m. just before he went to bed. On Tuesdays there were only six; in place of the I-3, he went to Lab 6 on the ground floor of San Beueno Hall where his reproductive apparatus underwent its weekly inspection. On Sundays there were no impregs, though once every six weeks there was a “draining” in the lab to test his sperm count through as many ejaculations as he could manage. Other Sundays, he was always invited to “draining parties”, invitations which the gentle boy, who didn’t want to offend or hurt anyone, felt like he couldn’t refuse.