Over the years a caste system had formally been adopted. The higher castes included the wealthy, politicians, professionals, and academia and their families. The lower castes would include low skilled workers and their families. Women of the lower castes are subject to the lottery established due the combination of the Great Bovine Famine and the human birthrate falling beneath replacement level if selected they could become a ‘breeder’ or worse yet ‘food stock’. The only way to avoid the lottery is to have given birth to at least one child and be pregnant with another when their name was called. A woman is subject to the lottery every quarter of the year for the years from age 20 to 30 and if not selected by then is she is eligible for the special ‘food stock’ lottery if she is still childless.
Kathy and others in her caste are exempt from the lottery but all are encouraged to procreate. There a public service announcements everywhere encouraging them to do just that.
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A recent phenomenon has been people in the exempt castes to send at least one daughter breeding age to a breeding camp, particularly those running for office or considering doing so. They always made a show of committing their daughters.
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Volunteers are exempt from becoming food stock unless they grossly violate the rules and even then they would face a tribunal that if their parents are so inclined to ‘donate to the cause’ would guarantee a much lighter sentence. This explains why Kathy B. Summers is about to become a breeder even though she is exempt from the lottery. Kathy’s freedom could not be an impediment to Theresa’s ambitions.
Volunteer breeders are allowed to arrive at orientation dressed in simple clothing. Some who have truly volunteered arrive proudly au natural believing they were doing a noble service.
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Others who had been volunteered or had volunteered but got cold feet were picked up by a breeder management service.
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Inside they are instructed to strip and were informed their clothing would be sold at a reseller’s shop and new clothing would be issued upon completion of their terms as what they wore in will likely not fit when they leave. Many of the women treat this part like some bizarre all-girls’ party chatting and laughing as they strip.
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Kathy and a few others stay on the fringe. They obey the directive.
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As Kathy finishes undressing and sees the dozens of ‘security’ cameras and the uniformed male overseers carrying electric cattle prods that double as billy-clubs. She covers her breasts and whispers “Mother, what have you done to me?”
Next they are marched into a large auditorium and ordered to line up on the rows of blue tape striping the floor over the marks of what had been a basketball court. There are about a hundred volunteers. Across from and outnumbering them there are women from the lottery who feel grateful they have been selected as breeders and not food stock.
A small uniformed woman explains what will be expected of them and if they follow all directives ‘everything will be fine’. Before the breeders could wonder what happens if they
don’t obey everything a man drives an electric powered boom lift normally employed for tasks out of the reach of a ladder or needing a more stable and safer work platform.
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Ominously a noose swings beneath the platform. The woman with the microphone says sternly “I expect silence for the next few moments. Consider that your first directive.”
A pair of guards leads a blindfolded woman naked but the bounds holding her wrists behind her. With her struggle between the guards she may not see where she is going but she knows. She is begging for her life, pleading she is a woman and not an animal to slaughter. After the woman is noosed the blindfold is removed. She looks around in wide-eyed panic begging for someone- even us- to save her. We all know if we move from our lines we wouldn’t save her and would go from being breeders to food stock. With an electric whirring the lift boom straighten the rope and with no hesitation easily hoists the woman up by her neck. Her pleading is replaced with rasps and squawks that take forever to subside as she thrashes hopeless from the noose.
“The adrenaline helps tenderize the meat I am told” the uniformed woman calmly says as the hanged woman’s death throes go from seeming to give up to bursts of desperation. More than a few of us have thrown up and others have fainted. The poor woman’s last act was the release of her bladder.
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As we stare at the lifeless woman the woman rhetorically asks “Are there any questions?”
None were asked and I curse my mother as we file out…
-Kathy B. Summers
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