Thank You for Your Service

The baby was taken away almost as soon as it left her body. After the delivery nurse had expertly cut the cord and wrapped it in a tiny khaki blanket, Daniella heard a small cry, then watched, exhausted and sweaty, as the masked nurse weighed it, wiped it, and took it out of the room. Daniella had expected this. She had been briefed extensively about the process in advance. It was probably even better this way, she told herself, seeing as how it was a male child and its chances of being a casualty in the Forever War were higher. It was all for the best, her commander had said, and she had agreed. The needs of the Army Nation always come first.

She looked at her smartwatch and noted to herself: One male child, born, December 17^th, 2038. She’d try to remember the date. It didn’t matter much, but still… When she had reported to her commander that the Insemination Mission had been successful, she was surprised at his reaction. “This is possibly your single most important contribution to the War effort,” he had said, a rare smile lighting his face. She had never seen him so excited; his nickname in the unit was Iceman. “All your good work in Operations doesn’t come close to this achievement, Lieutenant. Don’t ever forget that.” He added, and the pride that Daniella felt at that moment had carried her through all the clumsiness, heartburn, and other inconveniences of pregnancy “I’m serving Nation in the best possible way,” she would remind herself, as she excused herself for the tenth time from the War council to pee yet again. Now, finally, it was all over.

Daniella tried to stretch in bed and winced. Everything hurt. Surprisingly, the action phase of the birth hadn’t taken very long – two hours and thirty-seven minutes, according to her digital chart. During the briefing Daniella had been told that it was possible to spend up to 24 hours in the delivery unit, and she felt relief wash over her that it hadn’t taken that long. As it was, she had never felt so tired and achy in her life. Desert survival training had been nothing compared to this.

But just as she was drifting deliciously off to sleep, she was jolted awake by a different nurse entering her room. “Good, you’re up,” said the nurse, in a loud, brisk voice. Daniella tried to sit up and look more alert than she felt. “I’d like to report that the baby is fine,” said the nurse. “It’s in the process of being numbered and sent to the nursery barracks.” “Oh, okay, good,” said Daniella. She tried to match the nurse’s pragmatic tone, but then, quite suddenly, she felt her eyes well up and she burst out crying. Horrified, she tried to control herself, using all the mindfulness techniques she had learned in basic training, but nothing worked. The tears quickly turned into full-fledged sobs that wracked her aching body, and she reached blindly for a tissue on the bedside table. The nurse didn’t seem especially surprised at this unsuitable emotional outburst. She just stood there silently, arms folded over her khaki scrubs. “That’ll be the hormones,” she said, finally, in that same brisk, detached tone. “You’ll get over it.” She was silent for a few moments more, and the only sound in the room was Daniella loudly blowing her nose.

When the nurse spoke again, her voice was a bit softer. “They take good care of them, don’t worry,” she told Daniella.  “I used to work in the nursery barracks before I was transferred here. They give them these cute onsey fatigues, and they only start training them when they start walking. Before that, there are lots of toys and bedtime stories.” Daniella nodded, mostly thankful that the awful sobs were over. Remember your service to the Nation, she thought, firmly. How else would they have enough soldiers for the Forever War? Stupid hormones.

Finally, the nurse left, and Daniella was alone. She tried to get back to sleep, but despite being exhausted, she couldn’t get her mind to stop racing. And then her thoughts were drawn to the Insemination Mission, yet again. She couldn’t help herself; she just couldn’t get that one night out of her mind. It was probably just because it was all so unexpected, she thought for the hundredth time. Yes, she had been properly briefed for that, too. Her commander was very thorough. But no one had prepared her for what it would really be like.

Don’t make eye contact, her commander had told her. Don’t speak. This is a military mission like any other, and your objective is simply to play a small part in creating the next generation for the Army Nation. He had handed her a manila envelope, with official documents that stated that her partner had a clean bill of health, excellent motor skills and an ability to remain calm under pressure. The document then stated that he had been found to be a good match for her, genetically speaking, and went on to explain in detail how the mission would be implemented. Still, she had been a bit apprehensive when the drill sergeant had shown her into the small, white room with the double bed, covered in army-issue sheets and a scratchy woolen blanket. Nothing in her training had prepared her for this. It looks just like your room at the Academy, she had told herself. You should feel at home. Just complete the mission and get it over with. But when the sergeant rapped at the door again and the Insemination Technician entered, it had been hard for her to keep her cool.

Somehow, even though she had tried to prepare herself, she realized that she hadn’t thought of him as a real person up to that moment. His presence filled the room, and although she was used to joking around with the guys in Operations, there was something different about this one. He was boyishly good looking, tall and lanky with dark lashes ringing warm brown eyes, and a shy grin. “Okay, let’s do this thing,” he said, as he entered. He didn’t ask for her name either, as per their instructions, and they didn’t speak much during the mission. But his touch was tender, and he asked her a few times if she was okay and if he was hurting her. She didn’t reply. The truth was that she probably couldn’t have said a word, even if she wanted to. She felt like her body was on fire, experiencing what she could only describe as a sensory overload. She felt almost overwhelmed with physical contact, after years of so little. She was glad to be silent.

When he was done, he asked again if she was okay, and she only nodded, not trusting herself to speak yet. Her head was spinning. And then, slowly under the covers, she could feel his hand moving over her body and settling on her private place in a way that sent shockwaves through her. “What are you doing?” she hissed, terrified. It was strictly forbidden to have physical contact for pleasure only, and she knew the room was being monitored. The Technician only smiled, and whispered “shh,” so softly, so that she wasn’t sure that she had really heard anything. His hand kept moving and she could feel herself going weak and excited at the same time, until her body seemed to explode from within, and it was all she could do to keep a straight face and keep silent so as not to alert the monitors. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He was possibly the most beautiful person she had ever seen.

When it was over, the Technician lay on his side, facing her, with both hands under his cheek. He seemed to be falling asleep, which was also to be expected, according to her briefing. But his lips were near her ear, and she suddenly heard him whispering again. “Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?” Daniella swallowed a smile. No one ever had. “How did you even know how to do that?” She whispered back, feeling almost reckless at his kindness. He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “My big brother gave me this book,” he said, so quietly that she had to strain to hear the words. “He’s ten years older, so he was born before the Army Nation. He had a smartphone and everything.” Daniella was amazed. She herself was an only child, five years old when the Forever War broke out; her parents were drafted, and she had been moved into the Academy. She didn’t like to think about her parents much; the staff at the Academy didn’t encourage it. But she had always wished that she had a brother or a sister.

She squeezed the Technician’s arm under the covers. He squeezed back. “That was amazing,” she whispered softly. “You’re amazing,” he whispered back. Daniella was overcome with something, but she wasn’t sure what. It was like a wave washing over her. She wanted to stay in this room with him forever. She had never felt like this in her life. What was with her?

All too soon it was over. The drill sergeant rapped on the door and told them to get dressed. They scrambled for their clothes, sneaking peaks at each other while they were dressing.  Daniella had to muster all her willpower not to smile at him. As the Technician sat on the bed tying his army boots, she looked at him one last time, his long back and broad shoulders stretching the khaki fabric. And then he was gone. Even now, so many months later, Daniella could feel that wave of feeling crashing over her. What was it? Could it be a different kind of hormone?  

Just then her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She reached for the phone, glad for the distraction. It was her commander. Daniella sat up in bed. “I hear it went well,” he said. “Yes sir, action phase two hours 37 minutes.” she said, proudly. “One healthy male baby, one more future soldier for the National Army.” “Good girl.” said the commander. “We’re all waiting for you to get back to Operations as soon as possible.” “Yes sir, ASAP.” said Daniella, sitting up a bit straighter. “I’ll try to get back before the month ‘s leave is up, if I feel okay.” “That would be great,” said the commander. “Get some rest, Lieutenant.” “Will do, sir,” Daniella replied, and added: “Say hi to the boys for me.” “Who’s giving orders now?” the commander retorted, laughing. “See you soon.” and he hung up.

Daniella felt a rush of warmth towards him. It was a nice, comforting feeling. It didn’t come close to what she had felt that night, but it was good. Good enough. And just as she was thinking that, she was horrified to feel the tears welling up again. It’s hormones, she thought to herself firmly. It's just hormones. You’re doing the right thing. You’re okay. Get over it.

But the tears wouldn’t stop.