"No," Kym said and tried to climb from the hole. The crack of a rifle sounded and Kym felt the sting of a bullet enter his chest. He fell back and grimaced as he gasped for breath. A scoop of dirt struck him in the face. He spat out some of it, swallowed the rest.

Kym glanced up toward the gray sky, toward the dead Chinese people. A little boy stood at the edge of the hole, his head bashed in and one eye dangling by his cheek. He held a rifle. He spat at Kym and pulled the trigger. Kym's jaw disappeared, blood and bone spattered along the ground. A hole erupted in his throat and the air from his lungs whistled out of the wound, taking his life with him.

With his world fading, Kym reached up, trying to claw his way from the grave. Though he couldn't tell how far away the voices were, he could hear the chant ringing in his ears, Rise up Nanking. Rise up and live.

Mother's Little Helper.

by Tom Olbert.

2034 A.D.: Near Williams University, Virginia.

Karen Peters brushed aside a tear as she contemplated suicide. The night was dark. The crickets droned on. The fountain by which she sat reflected the lamplight in the park. The water spattered on beside her, the tears of the little stone cherub mocking her own. Glancing down at the dimes and pennies at the bottom of the pool-wishes and hopes of earlier days-she whimpered, then laughed, trying to see the humor in the absurdity of her situation. One stupid night of beers at a frat house, celebrating the end of finals. Just blowing off a little steam.

Harmless fun. That's all it took to change the rest of her young life.

She clenched her fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand as she curled into a fetal position. How could she have been so stupid? Letting that creep get her alone? She'd barely been able to look her mother in the eye over the vid-phone as she'd forced the words out. Her dad hadn't been able to speak to her at all. Or wouldn't. The answer had seemed almost a given. What else could she do? They'd spent so much. She'd worked so hard. Her whole life lay before her. All that gone in one moment? Yeah, that's fair. The guy goes home and brags. The girl gets to choose. Good job, G.o.d.

"Don't blame G.o.d, you stupid, drunken s.l.u.t," she screamed at herself.

She drew a deep, strangled breath, raking her fingernails across the denim fabric of her jacket, shivering in the icy wind. She imagined the one she carried. Sleeping innocently in warm, liquid darkness. Do you feel anything yet? Nerve endings fired? Synaptic pathways begun to form? For a moment, she regretted having selected pre-law instead of pre-med. Then, the idea of a soul occurred to her, and she considered theology 101. She broke into hysterical laughter which quickly dissolved into anguish.

She buried her hot, feverish face in her hands and cried. At times of crisis, like a failed test, she'd probably be huddled in her dorm room with Linda, drowning her sorrows in a brandy. But Linda hadn't spoken to her since her decision to abort the pregnancy. Except to say she'd pray for her. She'd said it without meeting her eyes and with a coldness that had gone through her like a knife.

Everyone had treated her that way since the decision. Except for that nice young man, Will Daubson, the medical technician at the clinic where she'd had the tests. He'd looked at her with those kind eyes of his, an expression of sympathy on his thin face, and told her not to worry. G.o.d had a plan for everything, he'd said with a gentle smile.

Stop sniveling and pull yourself together, she admonished herself, pulling herself straight and drying her eyes. Think of someone besides yourself, for once! Think. There was still time to alter her decision. She could still keep the baby. Would mom and dad go along? Help her financially? The state wouldn't, that was for sure. Maybe Linda's church group could...she started. Something furry was brushing against her ankle.

She looked down and laughed. A cute little dog. A cuddly little Yorky eagerly wagging its stubby tail. Its comical face with its upswept eyebrows stared up at her, the jaw lowering in a sharp little cough of a bark. The faint whirring of electric gears and the clicking of red lenses behind the canine's black eyes told her it wasn't a real dog, but an animatron. She smiled anyway, playfully running her fingers along the pseudo-animal's back, remembering the more primitive toy dog she'd played with as a child. An image of her own little one someday playing with such toys flashed through her mind. The sight of her infant daughter's bright little eyes and beaming smile brought a wide smile to her own face.

Yes. She would have this baby. She felt a warm wave of comfort and safety flow over her. She'd never really bought into Linda's lame ideas about omens and G.o.d's secretive ways, but something about this felt right.

She reached down to gratefully scratch behind the little fellow's ears. It turned its s.h.a.ggy muzzle to lick her hand, as its built-in A.I. was obviously programmed to do. The smile slipped off her face, her hand jerking back in pain, as though a wasp had stung it. She stared at the swelling little red p.r.i.c.k mark on the heel of her hand. She looked down and caught the flash of a silver needle retracting into the robo-dog's mouth. A drop of milky venom fell from the needle's tip to the pavement at her feet. A few more merry little barks. The tail wagging as her head swam through an ocean wave of euphoria, the lampposts swaying wildly as she slumped to the pavement, all feeling draining out of her body. She saw the dark, silhouetted figure with the remote control unit step out of the bushes just before the darkness swallowed her whole.

Will Daubson smiled down approvingly at Karen Peters' sleeping face. She looked so peaceful. And so pretty, even now. Rapid eye movements behind her fluttering eyelids indicated a slightly agitated thought pattern. He glanced at the shimmering CRT image on the console beside her, checking the graph indicator of her brainwaves. The memory loop was stable. She was reliving her entire life...all 20 years of it...on a 30 minute repeating cycle. Time was meaningless, of course. From her point of view, all was as it should be. Nothing interrupted. He couldn't help smirking the tiniest bit.

He delicately ran an index finger along the line of her forehead where he had ever-so-precisely cut off the top of her head with a laser scalpel, leaving her brain exposed. He carefully checked the electrodes protruding from the convoluted gray ma.s.s of her cerebral cortex. Ever the worry wart, he playfully chastised himself. Everything was fine. Right down to the nutrient-rich fluid flowing through the life support tubes keeping her severed head alive. She was a fine addition to the collection. Fourth in a row of young women's heads, all wired and plugged in and arranged in a neat row on his shelf.

He sighed. It had horrified him at first, the brutal nature of what he'd had to do. Oh, he'd never been cruel, of course. They'd never felt a thing. Still...it seemed so ugly. An iciness began inching its way up his spine, his stomach twisting. He stared in growing fear at his acquisitions, sweat beading on his forehead, his thin chest trembling. He tightly shut his eyes, forcing himself to think of their collective sin. Of the murderous intent they'd all shared. And he looked at them now. So innocent and angelic in their blissful ignorance, saved from sin before they could d.a.m.n themselves to h.e.l.l. Before they could abort their babies.

He relaxed. These women were still alive. More than they deserved, perhaps, considering what they'd tried to do, but G.o.d was their judge, not he. A wave of relief flooded through him, all doubt washing away. He took a deep breath and gave thanks to his dear Mother and Father for having had the wisdom to have the M chip implanted into his brain when he was a child. The foolish law had prohibited the operation, but they'd done the right thing and had it done anyway. The morality program written into the chip set the parameters for every decision his brain could form. The motivational imperative his parents had paid the programmers to write into the chip was that he could never harm, or by omission of action, permit to be harmed an innocent human life. A G.o.dsend the M chip was. A shield against the numerous temptations of a corrupt world. Mother's little helper.

He made his way toward the center of his makeshift lab to check the bio-monitors. ALL SYSTEM FUNCTIONS NORMAL, the grating metallic voice of the central artificial intelligence intoned through the speaker system. Will looked up at the A.I. that was the brain of the entire system. A cold, black camera lens, the cyclopean *eye' of the thing he'd created, stared down at him from the huge, grotesque a.s.sembly of wires, fluidic tubes, and wetware modules he'd constructed. It hung from the concrete ceiling, suspended by steel chains. At the center of the semi-spherical sh.e.l.l of synaptic computer relays was the living, disembodied brain of the chimpanzee that had given its life at the University lab to make all this possible. Its cerebral cortex, sufficiently enhanced by the interfaced computer system, was all it took to accommodate the basic functions of running the human body.

Will's eyes followed the grayish fluids seeping through the many plastic tubes, down from the life-support system, into the four headless, naked human bodies that stood like huge marionettes, suspended by silvery steel wires. Like giant fetuses, they fed through artificial umbilical cords which led from endlessly droning pumps into their ripening, pregnant stomachs. It all formed a single, self-sustaining organic bio-system. As perfectly balanced as the human reproductive cycle, though safe from willful human interference.

As he was admiring his own ingenuity, Will happened to notice the tattoo on the shoulder of his most recent acquisition, Karen Peters. A red valentine heart with the word *Forever' in black letters, a cupid's arrow piercing the center, and a delicate border of lilies. Vulgar, to be sure, but touching in its way. She must have known real love at least once. But not with her baby's father, apparently.

Will felt the sting of a tear at the corner of his eye. He rubbed it out and sniffed, shrugging off a twinge of melancholy. Poor, lost lamb. Such a waste. She might have been a wife and mother one day, had she remained faithful to the man she'd loved. But, she threw it all away. All for l.u.s.t, the Devil's most potent temptation. As he stared at the tattoo, his eye wandered from her shoulder, down the graceful curve of her perfect alabaster breast, falling at last on the round, pink nipple.

He quickly averted his gaze, deeply ashamed of the stirring in his unmentionable region. How dare he defile Life's holy vessel with impure thoughts! His guilt screamed in his head as he winced in pain. By G.o.d's perfect design, the female form existed to nurture life, not to tempt the soul of Man, he reminded himself angrily, clenching his fists in self-flagellation.

Letting his anger pa.s.s, he unclenched his fists and gently, reverently laid a hand on the burgeoning belly of one of his other three acquisitions. The first one he'd saved, months ago. He'd long since forgotten her name. Names were meaningless. Only the precious, innocent life stirring within mattered. His heart fluttered in ecstasy as he felt the baby kick. His eyes filled with tears of joy at the miracle of G.o.d's infinite love.

It was a bright, sunny day as Will strolled merrily across the University campus, a wide smile crossing his face. Professor Darby had been so pleased with the preliminary design specs of Will's life support system. The kind old man had shook his hand and smiled, lavishing him with praise. In the presence of the University President, no less. Such a brilliant student, he'd said. And so hard working. His job at the clinic, in addition to his course work. He was an inspiration to his fellow students. Will's heart had swelled with pride. Mother and Father would be so pleased. He sighed, a twinge of guilt cutting into his happiness. He hated deceiving the professor. But, until the Supreme Court came to its senses, he couldn't reveal the fact that his invention was anything more than theoretical. Someday, it would have a prominent place in the Smithsonian, of that he was sure.

As he pa.s.sed the quad, a large group of students was gathered about the holographic projection that was the P.A./news display. Karen Peters' pretty, smiling face shimmered on the boiling air. He involuntarily averted his eyes, a coldness spreading through his stomach as the announcer's voice declared a fourth female student missing. He tried to feign disinterest, pretending to fumble with his portable computer link as he listened for any news on the ongoing police investigation. There wasn't any progress in the case. At least, none they were willing to reveal. The crowd began to disperse as the news broadcast switched to international. He cleared his dry throat, feeling many eyes on him as he walked on. The announcer's voice trailed after him: "The president insisted the war in Venezuela was not about oil, but about defending American values."

He shook off the momentary doubts and fears as if they were bothersome flies. G.o.d would protect him and his holy mission, he reminded himself, the smile returning to his face.

His heart beat faster as he saw her walking towards him. Linda. She looked so beautiful. Yet, troubled. It wasn't hard to guess why. She and Karen had been roommates. And pretty close friends, from what he could tell. He felt a bit awkward as he walked towards her. "h.e.l.lo, Linda."

She glanced up at him, distracted, rubbing her hands nervously together. He could see she'd been crying. Her pretty blue eyes, usually illuminated with flecks of gold, were red and clouded. "Hey, Will," she said, barely above a whisper, not meeting his gaze. "Sorry. Can't really talk now."

Her wispy, golden-brown hair stirred in the breeze, making his heart flutter. She was like an angel. The divinity was made flesh in her. In her goodness as well as her beauty. He loved her. "Can I help?"

She seemed to hesitate a moment. "Have you heard from Karen at all since...you know, since she came to the clinic?" A desperate hope entered her eyes.

His stomach twisted with guilt at the thought he might be the cause of her pain. He forced himself to keep his eyes level with hers. "No. I'm sorry to say I haven't."

Her face twisted in pain as she put a hand to her forehead. "The last time I saw her...she asked for help, and I was so cold..." She started to cry, and he felt terribly for her. He reached out to take her hand. "I should have been there for her. I hated what she decided to do, but...I shouldn't have turned away from her like that. If she's gone...If that was the last time I..." She completely broke down. He put his arms around her and held her close.

"Don't feel guilty," he said softly. "She was lost; on the wrong path. And you couldn't take that path with her. Deep down, I'm sure she knew she was wrong, and that you only wanted what was right for her." He felt her heart beating against his, and it stirred him. Not in a sinful, animal way. It was right. It was holy. "All we can do now is pray for her. Don't be afraid. She's in safe hands, as we all are. G.o.d has a plan for everyone."

She stepped away and wiped away her tears. "You're so kind, Will," she said, managing a slight smile. "You never lose faith, do you?" She ran a slender, perfumed hand across his face. He trembled, a cloudy haze pa.s.sing over his eyes. "Thanks." She kissed him lightly on the cheek and patted his arm as she walked away. "Please let me know if she calls in, okay?"

"Uh...yes, of course I will. Take care." He felt lighter than air. A wave of joy and wonder swept through him. They were meant to be together. Of that he was certain. Deep down, he'd known it from the moment they'd met. She'd never dismissed him as a freak or a mama's boy, as all the other students did. They were so wrapped up in their shallow, hedonistic lives that they never saw what was beneath the surface. She was special. A kind, caring soul so close to G.o.d. She understood. She loved him. Many young men on campus had expressed an interest in her, but she'd turned them all away. He turned his eyes to the bright blue sky and thanked G.o.d with all his love.

For a moment, he felt a tiny bit guilty about the surveillance device he'd planted on Linda's jacket when he'd held her. But, he had to make certain she didn't know anything that could possibly lead the police to him.

The picture was fuzzy, broken by static as Will struggled to bring the monitor screen in his lab into focus. The cluttered interior of a dorm room came into view. The jacket had been hung on the back of a chair. The vid/audio transmitter robot he'd planted on the collar was as tiny as a spider. It sprouted tiny mechanical legs, crawling over the hills and valleys of the row of silver studs along the collar's edge. The robot slowly swiveled on its base, its micro-lenses focusing. The picture clarified.

The room was dim, the only light coming from a small desk lamp. Linda stepped into the frame of view. She sat crosslegged on a pillow, setting a holo-recording pad on the floor before her. She activated it, and Karen appeared, a shimmering ghost on the dark, smoky air. He felt a little dirty invading Linda's grief like this. But it had to be done, for the good of his mission. She would understand it all one day, once they were married.

Linda bowed her head before the hologram, as though in prayer, the multi-colored light of the flickering image playing off her white tee shirt. "Hey. Hope you can hear me. I believe you can. I'm so sorry for the way I treated you. That was weak, and I'm sorry. I couldn't accept the choice you made, Karen. I still can't. But I still love you. I know you loved me." She stopped crying, then collected herself and continued with effort. "We made a promise once to stay together, no matter what. I would have taken you back, darling. Even if you'd..." She choked and threw her head back, tears running down her cheeks. "I told myself I couldn't go on being with you after you'd done it. After you'd aborted your pregnancy. I told myself it was because of my faith. Because I believed abortion was wrong. I still believe it's wrong, but...that's not really what hurt the most. I could have forgiven that, I think. For you, I could have forgiven it."

Will's jaw dropped. She couldn't have meant that. How could she?

"What really hurt the most was that...you didn't want to have the baby with me. We could have raised her together, love. Our little daughter. She could have been ours. We could have been a family."

Will's head was reeling. He couldn't be hearing this right. He couldn't be!

Linda pa.s.sed her hand through the hologram as though trying to touch Karen's face and hair. "We had such plans. You were going to tell your parents about us. We were going to be married at a Quaker church in Vermont. Just you and me forever, my love. Remember?"

She adjusted the holo-pad control and the view zoomed in on the heart tattoo on Karen's shoulder. *Forever.' Will's blood ran cold as Linda lifted the sleeve of her tee shirt, revealing the matching tattoo on her shoulder. *Forever.'