John Ringo: There Will Be Dragons

Paul often came into the room and stared up at the mural, tracking the progress and wondering where they had gone wrong.

He looked around at the gathered Council and carefully schooled his features to prevent any hint of revulsion crossing them; surely the Council that ran the Earth could be limited to true humans!

But it was not. Ishtar was close, but so Changed as to be clearly beyond any semblance of true humanity. As to Ungphakorn and Cantor…

Now he pointedly avoided looking at those members of the Council who were not human in appearance as he tapped his gavel and called the meeting to order.

“I’m called this meeting to discuss the current population challenge,” he said, then paused as Ungphakorn ruffled its feathers.

“I fail to sssee where that isss any of our concccern,” the council member said, rewrapping itself on its perch. Its body had been formed into a quetzacoatl: a long, multicolored, brightly feathered, winged-serpent, the sex specifically neuter. The mouth of the serpent had been modified to permit human speech but it still caused a sibilant hissing on many words.

Paul had come to the conclusion that Ungphakorn did it just to annoy him.

“It is our concern as the last vestige of government,” Bowman replied, looking directly at Sheida. “The population of the earth has fallen below one billion people. Given current trends in birth rate, the human race, in any form, will be gone in less than a thousand years; barely five generations. We have to take action and soon.”

“So what action would you take?” Javlatanugs Cantor asked. In deference to the conditions of the council chamber, Cantor had Changed to a near humanoform. But he had retained the hirsute body-covering and massiveness of his normal bear shape. It gave him an appearance somewhat like a Sasquatch. Which was why the Sasquatch confederation considered him their spokesperson. “Each breeds as they wish. And each child takes the form they wish. This is called freedom.”

“This is called suicide,” Chansa snapped. The newest member of the Council had a fully human appearance, but his huge size virtually had to be a Change. Now he pounded the table with a fist the size of a melon and glared at the werebear across the table. “I suppose you would be just as glad to have the human race die out.”

“I am human, you ignorant gorilla,” Cantor replied. “And, no, I don’t care to have humanity disappear. But I don’t agree that it’s a problem. And even if it is, I haven’t heard a suggestion how to fix it. And I can’t imagine a suggestion that wouldn’t require the Council to step outside its clear authority. So I don’t understand why we’re having this meeting.”

“As I stated, we are the only authority left,” Paul interjected. “If I may continue? We are all aware of the fact that as quality of life improves, birthrate declines.”

“Except under conditions of cultural imprinting,” Cantor interjected.

“But there are no longer any cultures that have a positive birthrate,” Bowman snapped back. “So that’s a red herring. The fact is that everyone on Earth has more than ample resources. Between the power plants and replication…”

“Everyone livesss as godsss,” Ungphakorn said. “Or dolphinsss or bearsss or dragonsss. And nobody hasss children becaussse they’re a pain in the asss to take care of. Tell usss sssomething we don’t know.”

“The answer is to ration power,” Chansa said bluntly.

“WHAT?” Cantor bellowed.

As the argument exploded, Sheida glanced around the room, looking at the faces and trying to guess who knew about the bombshell Chansa had just dropped. She suspected from the pained expression on Bowman’s face that he had intended to work up to the conclusion.

“It is the only way!” Paul shouted. “No! Listen for a moment! Just hear me out!”

He waited until the shouting and muttering had died then gestured around. “We are a dying race . If we continue as we have been, the last human, of whatever form, will close a door in a few thousand years and that will be it . I’m not talking about shutting everything down and dropping the world into chaos, I’m just talking about… reinstituting cultural items that will strengthen the interest in children, in discovery and advancement! And, at the same time, strengthen us as a species! We have descended into lotus-eating, all of our virtue lost to the sink of endless games and delights! We must regain our virtue as humans, so that we can take our true birthright and continue to thrive as a species!”

“So you would end the games and delights?”

It was the first that Aikawa Gouvois had spoken and Sheida didn’t know if he was on Paul’s side or not. He was fully humanoform, but also perfectly Asiatic in features. Thousands of years of crossbreeding and genetic tinkering meant that most humans naturally tended to be a light brown in color and have very few noticeable features, other than striking beauty, perhaps one of the reasons that so many chose wild body forms. Aikawa, however, had the broad face and epicanthic fold of a classic Son of Han. His appearance was so true to standard that it actually detracted from his looks; the flattened nose, broad cheekbones and epicanthic folds being decidedly nonstandard.

Without doing a DNA scan and violating privacy, Sheida couldn’t tell if his appearance was natural or artificial. Whichever it was, the appearance was a personal statement, like Bowman’s height. However, it was a far more ambiguous one. And Aikawa had also cultivated a poker face to make any of the rest of the Council envious.

“Frankly, I would make them work for the games and delights, yes,” Paul said. “I think that we need to reinstitute work . For those of you who don’t know what that word means…”

“Ssspare usss, Paul,” Ungphakorn said. “What we do now isss ‘work,’ at leassst when it comesss to talking to you . And mossst of usss have no more children than any of the ressst of the world.”

“I don’t see you raising a huge brood, Paul,” Ishtar interjected.

“I have five children,” Bowman replied, proudly.

“Yes, and you have dumped the actual job of raising them off on five separate females,” Ishtar snapped. “What you don’t understand, you stupid little man, is that since each of them only had one child, and since by law you have to have both a male and female genetics to produce a child, all of your ‘work’ to produce multiple children has been in vain. As long as women control reproduction, men are nothing but a source of DNA.”

“Perhaps that should be changed as well,” Paul snapped. “Why should women control reproduction? If I want to have a child which is mine and another male’s, the choice should be mine. Or three children by my own genetics. What is wrong with that?”

“Law and history,” Sheida interjected with a sigh. She looked at his surprised face and laughed out loud. “What? You thought because I didn’t object to your statements and that I have had minimal Change that I agreed with you? Far from it. Let us discuss your suggestion.”

She leaned back, called up some texts for a moment’s review, then nodded. “In the… twenty-first century, the Iron Brotherhood was founded. Its stated intention was to ‘eliminate the scourge of womankind by replacing them.’ Using the relatively new DNA structuring abilities of the time, they grew children in early-model uterine replicators, ‘all male children from all male genetics.’ They only existed as a functional group for about three generations. The children were dysfunctional in the extreme since the average male has all the maternal instincts of a male leopard. By and large they were raised with minimal positive input and minimal interaction because males are lousy mothers.”