"Eric, if you could, just end it all, would you?" Bobbi said as she slipped further and further into a haze.
"Oh yeah. Escape. I'd escape this crap," Eric replied, staring at the ceiling of Bobbi's room, the psychedelic posters lit up in the black light, the various lines and images creating insane stars in a pulsing, warbling sky.
He leaned over and kissed her. Then they went to it, teenage clumsy, teenage quick, but to them, it was magical. It was perfect, and it was right. It lasted forever. Bobbi woke in the early hours, and she realized what had happened. She screamed without thinking. It wasn't what she had wanted, not yet. Eric woke with the daylights getting beat out of him by her brother and father. He was charged, black and blue, with rape. He fought it but lost.
A year later, in the cell, a shell of who he was, he found a way to die and took his own life.
---
"Eric, if you could, just end it all, would you?" Bobbi said as she rocked their newborn, looking around the shelter.
"Never, Bobbi. Never."
He was lying. It was exactly what he was contemplating.
Then came the word. It was time to go. Men were not allowed in the shelter with women and children, even if they were married. He got up, kissed her and the baby, and walked away. He knew what was waiting for them and him. He knew to the core of him that it would never get better. He was good at winning people over and keeping things afloat for a while, but he was not good at keeping it that way. He had won Bobbi back so many times he'd lost count. This time was no different. They were broke, having lost everything, and had to run. As always, it was his fault. He had been sure of the plan. He had been so sure of his conspirators. As always, he was wrong.
As he entered the men's area, he saw them, the leg breakers. It was time to collect, end of the line.
Eric ran up the stairs, dove through the window, and made sure he hit the pavement three stories below head first.
---
"Eric, if you could, just end it all, would you?" Bobbi said as she kneeled, the fresh lashes pouring red down her back. His other followers begged him to end their pain and set them free.
"Yes! And we'll do it together! They are waiting, my doves! They are most excitedly, wonderfully, exquisitely, waiting! Let us depart!"
They drank the solution he'd prepared. They smiled at each other, hugged, kissed, sang, and swayed, with smiles of true belief, with fire in their eyes enough to light the room, they died, falling all around him in neat lines as he raised his glass. His glass had the same solution, save for that fatal ingredient.
"More souls, master! More souls for your favor!"
That's when the strike team broke in, but they were too late. Eric sat there grinning. They later claimed he resisted arrest, forcing them to use deadly force, even though he had welcomed them with a most handsome smile and vowed to save them as well.
---
"Eric, if you could, just end it all, would you?" Bobbi said in his head. He was on the bridge, overlooking the frozen river below.
"I'm coming, dear! I'm coming!"
As he was about to jump, a snowflake landed on his nose. He thought of an old movie. He waited. He looked up. No angel came. He laughed. Then, he changed his mind. As he turned to get down, he slipped and fell to his death. No one ever knew of his change of heart.
---
"Eric, if you could, just end it all, would you?" Bobbi said, running her fingers through his chest hair.
"Of course not, silly woman! We are almost there! No need to burn it all when it will soon be ours! The few holdouts in the northern states won't last much longer. Hard to rebel when you have to stay on the move, with no supplies and swarms of drones hunting you night and day!"
"What will we do once they are dead?" she asked.
"Then we find the next enemy, and we crush them too!" he shouted as he sat straight up and saluted his elaborate and carefully animated portrait on the far wall.
Bobbi giggled and stood up on her side of the bed, doing the full-standing salute.
"Then lead us, Great Leader! Lead us to your Right World!"
He pulled her back down with no small amount of force and moved to ravage her, much like he was the continent. An insistent beeping began at the wooden desk under the curtained window to one side of the room.
"Yes?!" Eric yelled impatiently.
"Sir, you wanted us to inform you the second we established the China Net."
"Oh, wow! That was fast, Miles! Great work!"
"Thank you, sir. The drones have settled into China's nuclear armaments and await our signal. I thought you might like to push the button yourself?"
"Why, of course! Good man. Activate my desk button."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, what a glorious day, eh, Bobbi?" Eric turned and looked at her, the sunlight through the desk window glowing on her skin.
"Yes, indeed! China has been such an annoyance lately."
"Well, as of now, they aren't."
And with that, he got up, walked over to his desk, pulled out a shelf in the ornate hutch, and pushed a large red button. He smiled, then closed the shelf.
"There we go. Problem solved. In a few seconds, China will be a collection of large craters. Heh. Strike that! OUR collection of large craters."
"Congratulations, sir! Goodnight!" came the voice over the intercom. The lights dimmed again, and with a flick of his wrist, a storm was suddenly raging outside the window.
Instead of going back to playing, they sat on the edge of the bed, holding each other. Despite their best efforts, these moments put them in a thoughtful mood. They found themselves quiet, contemplating destiny.
---
"There you have it. A few samples of where most of the simulations went. We've run the DNA we got from the fetus sample, and with approximately a billion iterations, taking into account the factors we can predict and estimating ones we can't, we've reached your son's possible futures."
"Is it that bad?" Gladys wiped the tears from her eyes. Jack looked up, broken and spent.
"There is an eighty percent chance that he'll commit suicide by age thirty. There's a sixty-three percent chance he'll lack the self-control to resist legal trouble. There's a fifty-one percent chance that if presented with an opportunity to murder or rape, he'll commit said acts. There's a forty-two percent chance he'll lead some kind of cult or similarly dangerous group. As far as that last scenario, there's a twenty-two percent chance he'll rise as some form of dictator and cause an immense amount of suffering and destruction. We strongly recommend you volunteer to end the pregnancy."
Gladys stared at her stomach.
"That means there's a seventy-eight percent chance he won't be another Hitler. It seems he would be more likely to harm himself than others. If we are very, very careful, it could work out." She looked up pleadingly.
"Yes, of course. These are simulations and scenarios. With proper control and healthy experiences, your son might become someone quite amazing. But, if there are any signs of aggression or manipulation above any of the very low thresholds we would have to set, the state would assume custody, and to be perfectly honest, he'd probably end up in one of the stricter work facilities."
"I don't care. I think we can do it. Hon?" she turned to Jack, who sat staring at the floor. "Can we do it? We have to try. It's our baby."
"Yeah. I'd like to try. I know we can do it. We'll listen to all the advice and make it work." He looked up, sat straighter, and moved to the edge of his chair. "Yeah, yeah! We can do this. He's our boy! He'll be fine! We'll make him fine!"
The technician took a deep breath, let it out, and took on a pleasant demeanor.
"We're running a discount now on the full suite of our Wonderful People processes. We can make a new zygote for you from various samples from you both. This child would be just as much yours as the one you are carrying, except very little left to chance. It would not only be you but the best of you. A wonderful child anyone could love and, more importantly, love anyone."
"NO!" Gladys shouted. "No! No, no, no! I want him. He's flawed, yes, but he'll be fine! No!"
"I'm sorry. We recommended you volunteer to terminate, but since you've chosen not to, we are obligated, only because the numbers are so high, to follow the orders of the onsite government representative in these cases. We will need to force termination."
"No! You can't!" Gladys shouted. She grabbed the door handle, pulling it open, before letting it go. "Ow!"
"There, it is done. We are sorry it had to be this way, but the greater good has to come first. In time, you'll understand."
Jack swung at the technician, but the technician casually reached up and caught Jack's fist. Jack tried to pull free but could not. He was held fast while the technician barely seemed to exert himself.
"Are you a freaking artificial?" Jack shouted, wincing.
"No. I'm enhanced. I used my employee discount and got a full DNA retrofit. I'm the best I can be." The technician released Jack's hand. "Since neither of you are of any threat to me, I'll overlook your very understandable emotional outburst. Please wait here until the procedure is complete. The fetus will completely reabsorb into your body in about fifteen minutes. I'll take a quick break and will return then. Oh, and please behave. The discount still stands, and I think you should take advantage of it."
At that, the technician got up and left the room. Gladys sat back down by Jack, leaning into his arms.
"They killed our baby," she whispered.
"I know," he whispered back.
They sat in silence and sobbed until the technician returned. They took the discount.