Page 18 of Atticus
Lucy cuts them off. “All right, all right, if we have time after class you can ask him more questions, but for now we’re going to talk about the time periods we’ll be studying this year. Take out your syllabus, and let’s look at expectations and responsibilities.”
The excitement in the children’s faces reassures me. A few don’t seem entirely convinced, but their eyes betray thoughtfulness, which, according to everything I’ve read, is what matters. If I can make them think, I am doing a decent job as a teaching assistant, and my directive is fulfilled. Still, being referred to as evil is entirely unexpected. I think back on Lucy’s words, how determined she sounded to change people’s minds about me.
I live to serve humanity, to make lives better, easier. What could be evil about that?
She gives me a reassuring wink and begins the lesson.
NEW CARNEGIE TIMES
OCTOBER 9, 2067
NEW PROCREATION CAMPAIGN TARGETS DECREASE IN AMERICAN BIRTH RATE
A startling new statistic has the nation scratching its head.
According to an annual poll focused on adults 40 years old and younger, only 39% of adults intend to bear children, down from 41% last year and 45% in 2063.
The birth rate, according to charts, should be 2.1 per woman to maintain the US population, prevent underpopulation, and guarantee economic growth. As of now, it is only at 1.5 per woman.
It may seem like a travesty to older generations, but centennials—current adults born between 2029 and 2043—of child-bearing age aren’t surprised.
“If they want people to procreate naturally, then underlying economic inequality needs to be addressed,” says Casey Heart of Hearts Family Planning Services, a business focused primarily on assisting couples struggling with infertility. “My business is slow, but it’s not for the right reasons. If it was for the right reasons, I wouldn’t be worried about it. It’s been decades, and the government still hasn’t addressed living minimum wage, devastating medical bills, and a distinct lack of compassion for new parents. Six weeks paid parental leave is all you get. People say it’s better than nothing, but it’s shit. America can afford it. We can do better.”
To combat this dramatic decrease, many businesses are unveiling a new advertisement campaigns aimed at 18- to 34-year-old women that executives are affectionately calling the “Eve Initiative.”
Participating corporations grant certain bonuses to expectant mothers and fathers, including a full year of paid parental leave, more vacation days, and fully comprehensive medical insurance to cover prenatal visits and childbirth. Some distinguished companies partaking in the Eve Initiative include MoonBean Coffee, West Health Inc., MagnaCarte Software, EverFed, and BioNex Corporation.
“The next generation is just as important as innovation,” Algrove Schroeder said in a candid interview withNew Carnegie Timeslast Monday at an internal press conference. “What’s the point of invention if there won’t be anyone around to enjoy it? My bionic engineers are some of the happiest employees in the workplace, and I intend to keep it that way. When you work for me, you’ll never have to choose between work and family. You can have both. You can have harmony. And harmony is precisely why I founded BioNex in the first place.”
Along with the aforementioned perks as part of the initiative, Schroeder is taking it a step further. “New baby, new android. All expenses paid.”
While many are happy with these new directives, there are exclusions to these benefits. While mothers can enjoy them all, fathers must be wed to expectant mothers to enjoy the same or must prove paternity via testing before being granted paid parental leave.
“It’s bullshit,” says Oscar Kent, 32. “The amount of hoops I have to jump through to get the same benefits a woman gets automatically. As if my divorce wasn’t hard enough, now I gotta prove paternity to my own child too?”
Pastor Nelson of First Carnegie Church, however, approves of these conditions and encourages it within his liturgy, even going so far as creating pamphlets with a list of preferred employers who participate in the upcoming initiative.
“What a bunch of whiners,” Pastor Nelson says. “Imagine if men could have those benefits automatically—it’d be chaos. All they’d do is breed. They’d never work again. Mothers are different. They should be afforded more protection. In this age of equality, it’s easy to forget that while women can do the same things we can do, the one thing they can do that we can’t is bear children. It’s the female whose labor brings life into this new world. They’re the ones whose bodies change with every pregnancy.”
He admits that the new initiative has certainly spiced up his sermons and created plenty of opportunities for discussion.
“As men, we just need to stop complaining,” he says. “If you don’t want to do the extra paperwork, stop dragging your feet, man up, and put a ring on it. That’s really all there is to it.”
3
Lucy
The past month has been a busy one, and I find myself more and more grateful for Atticus with each passing day. He’s the only person in the entire school that never complains once about what’s expected of him. Maybe it’s because he literally can’t—programming and all that—but he’s an absolute breath of fresh air that I’m not sure I ever want to do without.
The kids seem to be warming up too. The eighth graders, especially. The teenagers are too busy trying to act aloof, too cool for everything, even androids. But I can see it in some of their faces that they’re more interested in Atticus than they let on.
“This is...” I mutter as I walk through the public park with Atticus at my side, heading for a covered gathering area where a few of Vautrin’s faculty turn burgers and hot dogs on a grill. It’s early October and warmth is fleeing quickly as autumn nears its end. This is one of the last few times it’ll be nice enough for a cookout before everyone’s breaking out their heavy coats and snow boots. From what I’m told, winter in Illinois isn’t a joke, and it’ll turn cold quickly.
But it’s not the weather that’s got me second-guessing my attendance here.
“Small?” Atticus volunteers.
“Pathetic,” I whisper. “Where is everybody?”
