The Garden
Emily Feuz Jensen
“ We ’ ve come for a child ,” the man announces . He shall herea er be called Thomas .
“ We ’ ve plenty ready for harvest , are you looking for anything in particular ?” asks the woman at the desk . She will not always be at the desk , but it is in fact the same woman , regardless of her location . She works at the local baby garden , where embryos are planted like seeds in rich , specially treated soils , which gestates children with less fuss and frustration . ( A marked improvement on the old method .)
The woman with Thomas , she shall herea er be called Sarah , whispers something low and quiet . She was gestated in a peculiar batch of soil , and a case of blight le her with rotted vocal cords . Usually such cases are le in the soil to slowly degenerate and replenish the birth fields , but she was the first in her field to be pulled , and once pulled , a baby cannot be returned to the earth .
“ Yes , a girl , please ,” Thomas says , repeating what Sarah had said . The woman directs them out of the lobby , through the greenhouses where fertilized seedlings grow in amniotic planters until they are large enough to transfer , and out into the main fields beyond .
“ The garden is divided into two main sections ,” the woman says . “ Male on the right , female on the le . You will find smaller subdivisions in rows and fields according to your tastes .” “ Yes , thank you ,” Thomas says . “ Do you mind if we just look around for a while ?” The woman spreads her hands and smiles . “ Of course . If you have any questions , just let me know . We only ask you not to disturb any of the babies . Once pulled , a baby cannot be returned , you know .”