Willing Procreation

The Introduction of Sex

Sex was introduced when we would not procreate without inducement

So, imagine this: There is no sexual urge, at all. Not a bit. Males induce erections analytically and then proceed to impregnate the female of the species (with her analytical agreement, of course) while checking email or scrubbing toe nails for all the excitement involved. There you go, done.

Nine months later: baby.

This was all well and fine and worked according plan as long as the species agreed to propagate and willingly did so, and didn’t mind the mess of the act itself — it was a little cumbersome, to be honest, a little fluidy, sloppy, a little awkward, not the best design. Amateurish.

That aside, the engineers were happy enough with progress made and thought they had the experiment well in hand until one day the species finally caught onto something: rebirth, and rebirth, and then more rebirth: re-re-re-re-rebirth. They kept returning and returning and there seemed to be no way around that. Hamster wheel.

They even gave that phenomenon a name: Samsara.

No, they didn’t at all like this choice-less carousel and wanted to jump off and go somewhere else for a while, new vistas, other galaxies perhaps.

They checked with the engineers if this might not be an option: no can do.

So, the species organized and collectively hit upon a great idea: if there were no new bodies for the dead’uns to return to and occupy, if the species, in effect, simply died out, the engineers would have to let them go, the game would be up and over, end of experiment.

And in the spirit of non-cooperation, the species went on a procreation strike, they simply refused to impregnate and to be impregnated, with (over the next century) dramatic results. The engineers were alarmed.

They were very alarmed.

Well, what can we do? said the young operators, in charge of the nuts and bolts aspect of the experiment. They refuse to copulate.

“Make ‘em,” said the chief engineer.

“How?” said the operators.

“I don’t know. Figure it out.”

Fast forward three years, and the operators have yet to figured it out.

“You have to compel them,” instructed the chief, finally.

“Compel them how?” said the operators.

“Make copulation such a pleasant exercise that they cannot resist.”

“All right,” said the operators, and went to work on a potion that would make copulation irresistibly nice, or so they thought. Once in the can, so to speak (literally, too, actually) they poured it into the DNA mix of the subject species and sat back to watch the results.

A generation later: yes, some improvement. Sure. Birth rate up a tad, but far too many still nixed the idea of impregnation — for the species had met up again and discussed the engineering tactic of making copulation such a nice thing to do. They decided that this was a dirty trick and agreed to figure out an antidote to these shenanigans, and so they did.

Once in hand, every baby was inoculated with the ACV (Anti-Copulation Vaccine) and on entering puberty did not suffer any compulsion to copulate, so very few did. The species was happy. Hi-fives all around.

Not so the chief.

“They’ve worked up an antidote,” said the operators.

“I can see that,” said the chief. “Fix it.”

So the operators worked up a stronger potion, one that would have no possible antidote on Earth for they used ingredients native to another galaxy knowing well that any antidote would need ingredients of a similar family and they were not to be found anywhere on Earth. That should set things right, they thought, and added this new potion to the mix, and for a generation or two, things looked up — engineering-wise.

But then the species (who had gathered again to face this new problem and work up a cure) discovered that a certain meditation technique would let them transcend this new, more potent potion and remain unimpacted by it and voila: no impregnations, no babies.

“They seem to resist it,” said the operators when the chief yelled at them.

“Then you have to give them something they cannot resist, you idiots.” The chief continued to scream.

“Well, what?” said the operators.

“Sex,” said the chief.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” said the operators. “That’s been outlawed galaxy-wide for millennia.”

“I know,” said the chief.

“It’s only to be used on criminals as a punishment,” said one of the operators. “And to bring the long-lost insane around,” added another.

“I know,” said the chief.

“You can’t make us add that,” said the operators.

“I can,” said the chief.

“It’s not right,” said the operators.

“Do you like your jobs?” asked the chief.

“Yes,” said the operators.

“Would you like to keep your jobs?” asked the chief.

“Yes,” said the operators.

“Well, then. Add sex,” said the chief.

And that they did.

And we’ve been suffering from it ever since.

© Wolfstuff