The Pod Generation [Pro · 2024]

She stood before Pod #47. Inside, Luna-Kai — still unnamed, still waiting — floated in synthetic amniotic fluid, connected to a thousand tiny tubes. The heartbeat monitor showed strong, steady rhythms.

Later, in the bathroom, she caught her reflection. Her belly was flat. No stretch marks. No swollen feet. No midnight kicks. She pressed her hands against her abdomen and waited for something — a response, a presence, a sign. The Pod Generation

Under my heart, she thought. Finally. They found her, of course. The police arrived within minutes. Mark was called. Lawyers were hired. The news called it the “Pod-napping Heist” and later, more kindly, the “Last Natural Birth.” She stood before Pod #47

And years later, when Luna asked her mother how she was born, Rachel didn’t tell her about the pod. She told her about a woman who broke a machine, held a wet, screaming baby in her arms, and felt, for the first time in her life, utterly human. Later, in the bathroom, she caught her reflection

A low, watery thrum filled the room. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Rachel’s eyes stung. Mark squeezed her hand, but his attention was on his own tablet, where work messages were piling up.

Rachel placed a hand on the cool shell. “And the baby feels… nothing? No pain?”