It is close to midnight and a simple, and now somewhat inebriated, mountain man sits alone. In his hands, he holds the fate of the entire world. Well….not entirely in his hands.
It had been a shock to find that Bobby Jean was pregnant. It should not have been possible, not without a miracle. Simon had prayed for a child but not with any great hope. Since that time twenty eight years earlier, when God had begun carrying out his judgement on mankind, no woman had become pregnant by natural means. It required medical intervention, and the International Committee for Human Preservation did not grant the privilege of child-bearing lightly. It was available only to women of exceptional ability: women whose family background showed no trace of genetic defect. Although, as in everything else in this world, money and influence had found ways of getting around the restrictions. There were lawyers whose whole careers were now based on obtaining the precious privilige for their clients. Babies were not for poor people, the likes of Simon and Bobby Jean.
Simon had masked his disbelief when Bobby Jean had begun to insist that changes were happening, that she was missing periods, and then, later, that she was feeling movements. His smiles which were meant to convey his pleasure and excitement were a little less than honest. Let her dream he had thought. It was all wish fulfillment, imagination, even the morning sickness. False pregnancies were not unknown. You had to expect that sort of thing in a woman.
He had sworn her to secrecy. “Let it be a surprise for everyone,” he had said. But really, he did not want her to be hurt. The disappointment when she finally realised that there was no baby would be bad enough. He did not want her to look foolish in front of her friends.
But now she was beginning to show and he had felt the kicks himself. Her condition could not be hidden for much longer. Simon had no doubts that she had always been faithful and this was no Committee Baby which left him with a frightening thought. He was fertile! Probably the one fertile male among the billions on Planet Earth.
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Covid 19 was bad enough but the next virus was worse in a way although it caused much fewer deaths. It was difficult to know exactly where it had originated since it had spread so fast. In days it was being reported world wide thanks again to modern high-speed transportation. It would be proved conclusively later that not one person in global-village earth was exempt from its effects. It had had all the usual flu symptoms with a raging high temperature. As with the Spanish Flu of an earlier day, it was the secondary opportunist infections that actually killed people. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it had disappeared.
Not too long after this, the almost complete cessation of new pregnancies had became apparent. In fact, it became clear that what new pregnancies there were had resulted from donor insemination with semen stored before the epidemic. This did not cause anyimmediate alarm for, as the medical profession had quickly pointed out, a number of common virus diseases can cause male infertility and this was normally only temporary. That would surely prove to be true in this case.
Yet it was not to be temporary and the reason was still not apparent.The male sex drive was what it had always been, sperm counts had, if anything, improved and the little blighters were swimming as enthusiastically as ever. What they couldn’t do, though, was fertilise eggs.
As is the case with any shortage, viable human semen suddenly became a very valuable commodity and, since the only viable semen was that frozen before the epidemic, sperm banks appeared to be sitting on a gold mine. But not for long. Donors were soon asking the courts to return their property for which they now claimed a strong emotional attachment. Large stocks disappeared, a blackmarket developed, and there were scams involving newly-frozen product.
Couples with additional frozen embryos held at fertility clinics might have seemed better placed providing that security was maintained. Their ownership could not be in doubt. But governments world-wide quickly stepped in to requisition available stocks of both embryus and semen. It was
THE LAST ADAM Page 3 racial insurance. No country was willing to risk its future falling into the hands of wealthier neighbours.
With hindsight, the methods of insemination used in the early years could be seen as prodigal. One straw of semen for each pregnancy with many women being allowed more than one child. And the stocks of hundreds of thousands of frozen embryos were exhausted just as thoughtlessly. But to be fair, at the time, science had been trumpeting imminent breakthroughs and science had then still retained some credibility. And everyone just assumed that the rising male generation would be fertile anyway.
Such hopes were not justified. Twenty eight years had seen no scientific breakthrough and the re- emergence of a slightly modified strain of the virus seven years after the original attack had been thought to lead to the infection of the entire new generation, both donor and embryo-implanted, and this in spite of the best efforts to isolate them. It had since been discovered that women, although remaining fertile themselves, retained some abnormality that passed on infertility to their sons. The remotest parts of the earth had been scoured. Women desperate for a child would hardly be concerned if its birth-father was Hottentot or New Guinea Headhunter. A child was a child. But it was all to no avail.
It had reached the point where conception was a laboratory process. Only one sperm cell could be made available for each egg and this was injected under a microscope with a fine needle. The egg remained in a culture until its second division when the four resulting cells were separated. One of these egg cells became the property of the original donor but she had no say in the disposition of the other three. To provide an egg was considered a great honour and surrogate motherhood was almost on a par.
It took no great mental capacity to see the future, or at least lack of future, for mankind. Already, with the low birthrate, services relating to childhood were being severely curtailed and these only operated in major centres of population. Soon there would be no more children born and the
THE LAST ADAM Page 4 population would inevitably contract and age. There could be no retirement, no pension. The elderly would have to provide for themselves. In another hundred years, or a little more, Some man or woman would be the last person alive. Their final years would be miserable indeed.
There were many who saw this as God’s punishment on mankind and compared the violence and lawlessness of the modern day with the days of Noah. The Bible prophesy that the earth is stored up for fire was given new meaning. Preachers who had once claimed that this would be a nuclear holocaust were now just as sure that the flu’s raging fever was the fire referred to. They thundered out a call for repentance. It was time to ask God’s forgiveness: time to put aside the sins of the world and one of those sins was apparently donor insemination. It was unnatural. It was quite clearly adultery. Worse still, it was a futile attempt to delay divine judgement.
Those who kept God’s laws, and that meant as these preachers interpreted them, would be taken up to heaven in the Rapture leaving the sinners to suffer. Simon and Bobby Jean both had hopes of being among those chosen and yet they could help but feel sad for those who would be left behind. Sinners they might be but never-the-less they were fellow human beings. They could not understand the smug ‘I’ll be alright’ attitude of so many fellow Christians.
Simon believed the Rapture to be very close as did most of his neighbours in that fundamentalist pocket of the Appalachians. As Assistant Pastor of the Holiness Church of Zion his faith was beyond question. He preached eloquently and powerfully. He handled the poisonous snakes at the meeting and sometimes put them inside his shirt. They bit as was their nature but he had survived their poison as the Holy Writ promised. He had the gift of tongues and many claimed that there was healing in his hands. There were those who said the Pastor Clem was secretly jealous of his obvious spiritual gifts, even more than a little antagonistic toward Simon, but Simon knew that this was untrue. Clem was above jealousy, a true man of God, who had proved himself a faithful friend and guide.
Many men had a day-dream in which they were the only fertile man on earth standing at stud
THE LAST ADAM Page 5 with a flock of eager women outside the door and the ability to choose those that they particularly fancied. Most men had exaggerated views of their own prowess sure that they could manage three, four, and in some cases, even five women a day. They could seldom be convinced that even this halcyon situation would pall very quickly.
Simon knew that the reality would be quite different. The man would be public property, a male queen bee, safely cocooned from infection, nourished and nurtured to one end, the maximum production of the vital seed. He would have no pleasure in procreation. He would never meet the women he fertilised and have no joy in his offspring. In a way it was hardly a life to be wished for but on the other hand it would have some compensations. Being the most important man in the world for instance might be enough for some.
For a Christian, Simon’s new-found fertility presented serious problems which he had mulled over for some days. True, he had prayed ever so many times that he and Bobby Jean might have a child but did that automatically mean that his fertility came from God? Wasn’t it God’s plan to destroy the present world? Could it be that this was Satan’s effort to thwart that plan? That would be just like him!! Or again, what if they had been wrong all along in their beliefs? But if they weren’t wrong, could it be that God had granted a reprieve as he did to Ninevah?And if so was he, Simon, meant to save the world? That still created problems. If his potency did come from God, how could he share it with any woman not his wife without sinning when, as Jesus told them, just to look at a woman with passion was to commit adultery with her?
Finally, it had seemed best to share the secret with someone who could be trusted and would give sound advice. And who better than his pastor? Regardless of what some people might say, Clem was a thorough-going spiritual man and above reproach.
He had laid the matter before Clem. They had prayed together. But no answer had come at that time nor for several days afterward.
The answer had come, though, at the meeting that evening. Pastor Clem had informed the
THE LAST ADAM Page 6 congregation that there was among them a brother with a grievous problem and had urged the brothers and sisters to petition The Lord fervently in his behalf: to really cry out from their hearts. It was shortly after this that the Pastor himself began to speak in the power of The Spirit. As always, the words were in an unknown tongue but The Lord does not leave his people in ignorance. The Pastor’s brother Joel had been inspired to interpret for them.
The heavenly message stressed the need to recognise the wiles of the Devil, that ultimate deceiver, who always seeks to present himself as an angel of light.There was warning to resist the temptations of pride and presumption: to remember that it was The Christ who was to be the everlasting father and saviour of mankind….THE LAST ADAM! And scripture was quoted the import of which Simon could hardly mistake. ‘…if thy hand or thy foot causeth thee to stumble, cut it off, and caste it from thee.’
Bobby Jean had missed the meeting. She was in bed, unwell. It was one of her off-days. On his return, Simon had gone up to kiss her and tell her that he had a couple of small things to see to and might be some time. He was unhappy at having to mislead her in this way. It was a lie although technically correct.
That was two hours ago and Simon knew that he should be praying…..not drinking. Christ while impaled and in great pain had refused a draft of wine mixed with myrrh. But Simon knew that he himself was not caste in that mould. Away from the fervency and euphoria of the meeting it was not so easy to face what he must do. The bottle of Bourbon in front of him was almost gone and he was beginning to feel a pleasant numbness. Soon, he wouldn’t feel anything much at all. He must be careful to leave a small amount to sterilise the wound. But there was more than enough for that. Just a little more bottle courage, just the one sip, and he would take his knife and put paid to Satan’s plans.