Congratulations, Irma Escovar!

You have been selected for PPE (Primary Population Expansion)! Based on your genetic sampling, you are a prime candidate to receive full financial support. Less than 10% of citizens receive this offer. Please report to your local PPE office for further instructions. Your participation is very important to the future of humanity.

The world had never been happier. Civilization had progressed to a point where all people were provided for, and the global government ensured that no one suffered. According to official reports, poverty had been eradicated, crime was a thing of the past, and every citizen lived in harmony. News broadcasts praised the efficiency of the new world order, celebrating scientific advancements, cultural achievements, and the unwavering stability of society. There were no dissenting voices—because there was no longer any opposition. Since the Great Cleaning of 2035, all those who had resisted the vision of a unified, peaceful world had been removed.

John and Irma were among the fortunate citizens who had the privilege of contributing to the future. After a routine fertility test with their local doctor, they were thrilled to learn they could have a child. The official letter, addressed only to Irma, struck them as odd, but they had long since learned not to question bureaucratic discrepancies. The government was vast, spanning billions of lives, and mistakes were inevitable. What mattered was that they had been chosen and would receive financial support for bringing a new life into the world.

However, despite the reports of an ever-growing population, there were whispers of a different reality. Vacation destinations were empty, cities had fewer traffic jams, and public spaces were noticeably less crowded. The elderly passed away, but fewer and fewer children seemed to take their place. Before the Cleaning, rumors had circulated about plummeting birth rates and environmental degradation, but such concerns had vanished from the news. The global government assured everyone that all was well, that humanity was thriving. Local news stations focused only on minor, inconsequential stories—like a cat stuck in a tree.

————

Irma hesitated before entering the PPE office. The building was sleek, modern, and almost too pristine. A woman at the front desk greeted her with a practiced smile.

“Welcome, Irma. We’ve been expecting you. Please proceed to Room 4A.”

Excitement fluttered in her chest. Irma had always dreamed of being a mother—she had never known her own. Like many children, she had been raised by government nurses in a state-sponsored school. The facility reminded her of that place, its stark walls and artificial cleanliness eerily familiar.

As she walked down the hall, an unsettling sensation settled in her stomach. Everything felt…off. The corridors were eerily silent, the fluorescent lights buzzing softly above her. When she entered the room, a man in a white lab coat stood waiting. His badge read “Dr. Lennox.”

“Congratulations, Irma,” he said, motioning for her to sit. “You’ve been selected for a vital role in humanity’s future. You should be honored.”

“Honored for what, exactly?” she asked, her unease growing.

Dr. Lennox smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “Your DNA is among the most viable for repopulation. You will be moved to a secure facility where you will bear the next generation.”

Irma’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean, ‘moved’? My husband and I were selected for PPE. We’re supposed to have a child together.”

Dr. Lennox’s expression remained unreadable. “You were selected, Irma. John was not.”

A chill crept down her spine. “That must be a mistake.”

“It’s not.”

Irma shot to her feet. “I’m not going anywhere without him.”

Dr. Lennox sighed and tapped his tablet. The door behind her clicked shut. “Irma, please understand. Your cooperation is non-negotiable.”

Panic set in. She backed away, searching for an escape. Then, the screen on the wall flickered to life, displaying a live feed of John—standing in their apartment, looking confused as uniformed officers approached him.

“Let him go!” she screamed.

Dr. Lennox’s voice was eerily calm. “Your compliance ensures his safety. If you refuse, well… accidents happen.”

Tears welled in Irma’s eyes. She had no choice.

————

Months passed in the facility. She wasn’t alone. Hundreds of women, all hand-selected like her, carried children for the future of the human race. The world outside continued its charade of perfection, but she knew the truth.

One evening, as she cradled her newborn daughter, a nurse leaned close and whispered, “There’s a way out, my girl. Tonight. Meet me by the west wing.”

Irma’s breath caught. Government nurses were known for their cold detachment, but this one was different. There was warmth in her eyes—something almost… familiar.

Hope and terror warred inside her.

That night, heart pounding, Irma followed the nurse through the darkened corridors. The facility stretched endlessly, filled with sterile rooms and sleeping infants. Finally, they reached a hidden exit. The nurse swiped a keycard, and the door clicked open.

Freedom.

Irma stepped into the night air, inhaling deeply. The cool breeze felt surreal on her skin. She turned to the nurse, her heart racing. “Where do we go?”

“There’s a safe house,” the nurse whispered. “People on the outside… they know what’s happening..”

Irma’s chest tightened. Maybe she could find John. Maybe they could escape together.

Then, from the distance—footsteps.

The nurse’s eyes widened. “Run!”

Irma sprinted across the empty compound, boots pounding against pavement. A searchlight flicked on, sweeping the yard.

“Stop immediately!” a voice commanded.

Irma pushed forward, lungs burning. The outer gate was ahead. She could make it—

A gunshot rang out.

The nurse collapsed.

Irma choked on a scream, but strong hands grabbed her from behind. She kicked and thrashed, but it was no use. Within seconds, she was dragged back inside, her cries swallowed by the cold, sterile walls.

————

Days later, Dr. Lennox sat across from her in a stark white room. Her wrists were strapped to the chair. She hadn’t slept. Had barely eaten.

“You shouldn’t have run, Irma,” he said, voice calm.

Her throat was raw. “Where’s John?”

Dr. Lennox sighed. “John is no longer a concern.”

A hollow silence filled the space between them.

Tears blurred her vision. “You said he’d be safe.”

“I said your compliance ensured his safety,” Lennox replied, tapping his fingers on the table. “You chose not to comply.”

A sob wracked through her. This couldn’t be happening.

“But don’t worry,” Lennox continued. “You’re still valuable, Irma. We need you.”

Her stomach turned. “I will never give you what you want.”

Lennox smiled. “Oh, Irma,” he said, standing. “You already have.”

The door opened, and a nurse wheeled in a crib.

Inside—a baby.

Tiny. Perfect. Her little girl.

Irma reached for her, but the nurse pulled the crib away.

“She’s not yours anymore,” Lennox said. “It’s time for the next step. You will become a birthing nurse—just like your mother before you.”

Irma’s breath hitched. Had the nurse who was shot to help her escape been her mother?

The door shut behind him. The lights dimmed.

Irma’s screams echoed through the room, unheard.

Then—something shifted in the shadows.

A crumpled piece of paper, slipped beneath the door.

Heart pounding, Irma leaned forward, fingers trembling as she unfolded it.

Three words were scrawled across the page:

Live. Mom. John.

What did it mean?

Her breath hitched. Was her mother alive? Was John? Or was this just another layer of government manipulation to buy her compliance?

 She didn’t have the answers to these questions.

But she did now have the name for her baby girl…


Hope!