Brave New Worlds

coming.
    "When clean isn't clean enough," she moaned.
    Linda reached under the bed and felt around blindly. She pulled out a shoe box adorned with a lavender bow—a beautiful bow she had tied nine months earlier. She loved tying bows and she was proud of this one, bold and perfectly proportioned. Lavender—she loved lavender. Linda untied the bow and carefully slid the ribbon off the box. She opened the box, pulled out a red card and a small revolver, and finally cried for the first time that night.

Ten With A Flag
    by Joseph Paul Haines

    Joseph Paul Haines is the author of several stories, which have appeared in magazines such as Interzone , Aeon Magazine , and Abyss & Apex . He is also the editor, with Samantha Henderson, of the anthology From the Trenches , and his short story collection, Ten With a Flag and Other Playthings , came out in November. This story first appeared in Interzone and was adapted to audio on the Transmissions From Beyond podcast.

    Newly pregnant women face a great deal of difficult decisions, and modern medical procedures have only made those decisions more complex. Once, women expected to struggle through forty uncomfortable weeks, drive to the hospital, and go through the rigors of labor with their babies' entire future being a mystery. Boy or girl, no one knew. Healthy or ailing, no one could guess.

    But today, a woman is confronted with medical technology almost from her first obstetric appointment. Should she have an ultrasound? What kinds of blood tests should she take? Should she ask for maternal serum screening? Is amniocentesis in order?

    These are the questions facing today's pregnant woman. What about the mothers of the future? What kind of tests will be offered to them? What kind of choices will they need to make?

    Our next story takes us into that future. Here is a world where it is possible to know too much about your baby's potential—or at least, a place where the government knows too much.

    J ohnnie didn't talk while he was driving. Normally it would drive me a little crazy, sitting there in traffic and not saying a word, but this time it didn't bother me. There was too much on my mind. Truth was, I hoped he wouldn't talk so that I could have some time to think. But when he pulled onto the freeway, I knew I wasn't going to get that lucky.
    It only took him a couple of seconds to connect to the traffic web. Johnnie didn't like being out of control, it was one of the things I'd found endearing in him; quaint even. This time though, he didn't even double check the connection. The steering wheel folded and collapsed into the dash, and he turned to face me. "What does that mean, exactly?" he asked. "Did the doctor say anything else?"
    I shook my head. "He said he'd have to check, but he'd never heard of the combination coming up before. "
    "He'd have to check?"
    "Yeah. "
    "Did he say anything else?"
    "I told you, he said he'd have to check. " I didn't know what to say. It was still sinking in.
    Johnnie leaned back in his seat and stared out his window. I could tell he was getting ready to turn around and go back. We'd only been married three years, but I could read some of his expressions like a book. "How's that even possible?" he asked. "I mean, is the baby okay?"
    "The baby is fine. "
    "Now I wish we didn't know. "
    I turned away from him. "You agreed we should get the test done. "
    "I know, but. . . damn . "
    "Don't you think it's better knowing?"
    "How do you get a ten and a flag?" he asked.
    "He said he'd have to check," I repeated.
    "But the baby's fine?"
    "Yes. "
    "Are you sure he said ten?"
    I nodded. "Ten. "
    Johnnie crossed his arms and chewed on his bottom lip. I think he mumbled something, but at that point I didn't want to hear it.
    We didn't talk for a while after that. I was contented to sit and watch the other transports as we cut in and out of traffic. It was like watching a school of fish swimming together, weaving at the same time. We rushed along at speeds of over two hundred kilometers with no more than a meter separating our vehicles, our safety in the control of the central traffic computer. Sometimes it was easier to let something bigger than yourself take control. It had a plan, and although you couldn't always see it, you knew you'd never wreck.
    It wasn't until we sped past our off-ramp that I began to get concerned.
    "Where we going?" I asked.
    Johnnie didn't answer. He punched up the navigation screen and sighed. "What the