Fare Well

Part 5 - January 3, 2332 to July 24, 2334

January 3, 2332

A new year. Will it be a happy one? I realized that I may be the only person on Earth who knows what has happened to human reproduction. It can't be, I tell myself over and over. And of course I can't possibly tell anyone.

* * *

January 4, 2332

I told Melinda. She stared at me without saying a word. Who can blame her?

* * * *

January 7, 2332

I've scoured the internet looking for anyone else who might have spoken with one of Astrid's people, assuming that Astrid had "people". Assuming that there had really been an Astrid. I found every imaginable crazy story but nothing that reinforced my own crazy story.

I created a Web page with my story – under an assumed name of course – and an anonymous email link for contacting me. I'll probably hear from lots of crackpots but maybe there is someone out there like me.

* * *

June 4, 2332

There have been no births at any of the local hospitals for nearly a month. No new pregnancies for 9 months. No one can ignore this any more. The maternity departments at the hospitals say they are "waiting it out" but with no pregnant women anywhere, there is clearly nothing to wait for. At Amberly Women's Hospital, where Melinda delivers most of her babies, they are already reassigning all of the maternity staff to other departments.

Tonight, after talking about the situation in the hospitals, Melinda took my hand. "Tom, it's not just us. What if you and I can't have children? What should we do?"

Words from a distant year ago came back to me. "Have you thought about what it will mean if no one can have children? Ever again?"

Sometimes the obvious is the hardest to see. I knew from personal experience.

"Oh." She saw it. "No more ... humanity. But this can't go on for 60, 70 more years. There's no reason for it. It's not even physically possible that humanity can just stop being fertile!" She was squeezing my hand so hard that I had to pull it away.

I didn't mean to say this but what came out of my mouth was "It depends who you believe."

* * *

July 4, 2332

It's now a year since Astrid, since the upheaval of my life, since the purple flash at 10 pm, since knowing that Melinda was my destiny. I took her to the desert. I found Astrid's spot. The blanket was still there, half covered in sand. I cleaned it up and spread it out like a holy relic. We made love on it and stared at the stars.

In a quiet moment I asked Melinda if she thought someone out there could be determining our fate for us. She didn't answer but she didn't let go of my hand either.

We've stopped "trying" to get pregnant. Melinda sees all the stats in her professional journals. Or rather all of the lack of stats. When we make love, we do it for the closeness. But we never stop hoping.

* * *

May 10, 2333

There have been no births for a year. There are no pregnant women. The media do not discuss the issue. Politicians don't refer to it. At best, someone occasionally laughs off the "apparent drop in birth rate" and points out that a small decline in population would help everyone. They hope we won't see the obvious, and most people don't. I guess there's a deep assumption that having babies is something that will always come springing back.

Since I met Astrid, 72 million people have died without being replaced. Despite that staggering number, it's a tiny drop in the total population.

The youngest person on Earth is 1 year old. No newborns. No infants. Most people don't seem to notice the absence yet.

* * *

July 4, 2333

Two years. Since what, I'm no longer sure. No births. No pregnancies. I consider this Melinda's and my anniversary. This evening we talked seriously about adopting. We both still believe that this unexplained infertility couldn't go on for ever. Well, she believes it a little more than I do.

A lot of other people have had the same idea. Finding a child for adoption under the age of three is nearly impossible.

"Tom, I've brought so many babies into the world. I feel that adopting a child would be taking the opportunity away from someone else who hasn't had that chance. Let's wait, ok? We have time." She was trying to sound hopeful but in her eyes there was sadness.

* * *

July 4, 2334

Our third anniversary. Since we first got together, the world's population has dropped by 150 million. Still a drop in the bucket out of 9 billion.

There are no children under two. I wonder if people realize they no longer hear the cries of little babies.

Melinda has added a pediatrician to her staff. Many of her previous obstetrics patients are bringing their kids to her now.

Even if the media and government are still talking only about the benefits of a smaller population, the scientific community is frantically trying to crack the now-acknowledged issue of the total sterility of the human race. Apparently, an analysis of sperm and ova has shown a tiny change in DNA that makes the two incompatible. Even gametes collected several years ago or more have undergone the same change. Geneticists have tried to undo the changes but without success. One obstacle is that they have absolutely no specimens of normal gametes to use as patterns.

No one can understand how this could have happened. Except me. I do have an alternate theory that is less insane than my original. It's possible that Astrid was simply psychic. Tuned in to certain events. Then, whatever it was that caused this infertility, Astrid simply predicted it, within the framework of her own fantasy world. The existence of a highly accurate psychic seems more comforting to me than the existence of an alien race that has decided to get rid of humanity. I have to admit, though, that the notion of having loved a mad alien was appealing.