Author: Jess Chua

[24 June 1975]

“You don’t have to worry. The results will change your life.”

“Yes, Doctor.” Mrs. Stevenson was awash with hope and relief.

“It’s all going according to God’s plan and decision.”

“Praise Him!” The Stevensons raised their palms to the sterile bright ceiling.

Dr. Abraham left the room to retrieve Mr. Stevenson’s analyzed sample from the small office next door. He thought of his accolades and his brand new Mercedes waiting for him outside. The luxury sedan was white, spotless and pure—just how women were meant to be.

He leaned back against his chair, beginning the process that had enabled so many of his patients to have their dream miracle children. He didn’t have the heart to tell the couple that Mr. Stevenson had a low sperm count. It was unbecoming for a man to know. On the other hand, Dr. Abraham had intelligence, good looks, and good breeding. His seed was of a better stock and quality than most of his female patients’ husbands. He was doing *them* a favor.

“Praise Him,” they’d still proclaim when he was back with his sample.

Dr. Abraham was always there to perform his moral duty as a righteous man: to ensure that life won, to ensure that earthen vessels bore fruit.

[24 June 2005]

It troubled Dr. Abraham that people didn’t know where they went when they died.

He was leaving his legacy through a premier crisis pregnancy center. He had also dutifully multiplied during his time on earth.

Sure, there was Heaven for the worthy souls.

But was there something else? What if human beings could use technology to delay death forever?

He wrestled with it for decades, whether to condemn or fully embrace technology.

Cloning and cryogenic preservation were really an insurance against the unknown.

He signed the papers.

[24 June 2084]

His eyelids slowly opened to a clean and brightly lit room.

A throng of poreless beauties ambled around. They were lithe and strong, models of health and natural athleticism. Two of them were monitoring his vital signs.

*Abraham…* he heard an inner voice in his mind.

His heart began to slowly thaw as it gave its first pumps. Recollections returned as the digital upload of his memory bank began to process.

“What year is it?” he asked. He stared at one of the female beings through the domed chamber he was locked in. She looked back at him with piercing green eyes but said nothing.

The wording on the screen changed, this time to an image of a small fetus in utero. Dr. Abraham smiled as he thought back on his previous life’s work.

The fetus on the screen suddenly took on a grotesque reptilian form before morphing back to a more benign human presence.

“Behold!” proclaimed the green-eyed woman, gesturing over the doctor’s abdomen. “This is how we’ll be saved. Like the best of our hosts, we’ll adapt for we are strong and brave.”

Dr. Abraham screamed into the echoless chamber, powerless to abort the mission he had been forced into, as the perfect beings gathered around him to sing:

“Praise Him!”