Sunday, February 8, 2015

Let's Get Scientifical #8: Baby-Making in a Post-Post Apocalyptic World

Welcome to Unwritten's February blog event! Of course, this is the month of love, so I wanted to celebrate that theme as I've done in year's past. But this year, I've decided to add a scientific spin to it. All month long, talented authors from several genres will write about some aspect of love from their books as it relates to science. It could be social, psychological, biological, or anything in between. Our blog event is sponsored by "HMC by Kate", a fabulous independent jewelry crafter. Kate's giving away one of her very beautiful necklaces that I think fits our theme perfectly. She's also offering everyone who stops in a 10% discount on any item from her Etsy store. Be sure to enter the giveaway at the end of this post and check out her lovely offerings! Without further ado, please welcome our guest author:

Let’s Get Scientifical in Peter Welmerink’s Post-Post Apocalyptic TRANSPORT World

By Peter Welmerink

My current book series is fictional Military Action Adventure in a post-post zombie apocalyptic world. We’ve survived. They’ve survived. Like the history of the world, we roll in and out of chaos. We move onward, or not. We find means of survival, or not. We rise and fall like waves on the ocean.

What happens when the world is turned on its head? When the undead walk the line, not to eat brains but to survive like any other… creature? And what happens when NEW LIFE comes into play under strange circumstances?

The included transcript is dated Monday February 8th 2027 and may shine some light on the subject.

# [EXCERPT from TRANSPORT by Peter Welmerink]

LCpl Loutonia Phelps sat within the dimly lit office of military psychologist Captain Edwin Sparks. The man before her rested one hand on the top of his mahogany desk, and tapped his fingers on the polished wood. Holding pen, his other hand scribbled notes as Loutonia
spoke about her pregnancy and the father of the child.

“After Jacob… changed, and departed,” she swallowed hard and shook her head as if trying to expunge some awful image. “I thought it was the end of our relationship. And then I found out I was carrying his child.”

“This pregnancy has been hard for you, both physically and emotionally. I know the doctors had asked you a few times to terminate it due to the potential the baby is…”

Loutonia folded her arms across her chest, resting her arms atop the expanse of her 9-month bulge.  “We don’t need to rehash that. As you can see, nothing has happened to me or the baby. We’re both perfectly fine.”

“The child was conceived when Jacob wasn’t quite… himself.”

“It was still conceived out of love. Love we had for each other,” she said. “If Jake was here I am sure he would’ve wanted me to push through the struggles like I did.”

“And you’re still willing to take a chance the child will be normal. The vaccine the military gave you when the virus ran rampant should’ve made you both sterile. Your time working outside the city, in the wastes of society, fighting and being wounded by diseased creatures,” Sparks explained. “And then what happened to your captain...”

Pushing herself up onto her swollen feet, Loutonia pointed a finger at the Army psychologist. “If this is some last ditch effort someone has put you up to, to take this baby, it’s still a no-go. I’m carrying this child through to the end.”

“To the end of what? To the end of yourself? The end of humanity?” Sparks shook his head, starting to become angry. “You don’t know what you carry in your belly. The doctors have not been able to find a heartbeat in the last month yet the creature still moves within you. Whatever you and Captain Jacob Billet conceived during his… change… may be an abomination that evolves into the end of us all.”

“It’s a baby, sir.” Loutonia snarled at Sparks. “Whatever ‘abnormality’ I have that makes it so the monitors and ultrasounds can’t detect the child… I know it still lives and will be brought into this world naturally and with love. It’s not going to come out with a pitchfork or handgun, or fangs and start eating people.”

Sparks took a moment to compose himself. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “The world is a different place now, Miss Phelps. The Living survive in pocket colonies. The Dead wander the lands outside our walls. Others, crazed enough to try and survive outside, threaten our fragile existence. And you want to bring a child into THIS world, a child who may have been dangerously mutated by, well… us.”

Loutonia relaxed, unfolded her steely arms. She dropped her hands to her belly, running across the expanse. She hoped to feel the baby kick or move. It did not, but her body did not reject the child or react negatively if it was no longer alive. But something in her mind and heart said to not give up. The baby’s father, Captain Jacob Billet, her commander, her friend, her lover, would’ve not given up unless she said it needed to be so.

“I am not going to give in or give up on this miracle within me, regardless of the world, regardless of the things we fight every day. We continue to have hope, and not let despair overwhelm us. We continue to fight adversity, and refuse to give up our privileges.” She rubbed her extended abdomen lovingly. “I will not give up on this future inside me no matter what. If this child was conceived out of love, like it was, it can be no sin.”

“Our time is up, Corporal. I will see you after the birth,” Sparks said.

“Thank you, sir.” Loutonia said, saluted, and walked slowly to the office door.

Her hand reached for the door knob but it turned and opened as if on its own. Swinging open, her friends, the remaining crew of her military transport, the HURON, greeted her: tall, lanky marksman Eddie Mulholland; stumpy, hairy as a Silverback gorilla, Sgt. James Stokes; navigator Colter Campau scratching at his shoulder blade where his prosthetic arm was attached.

“Everything okay?” Eddie Mulholland asked.

“Perfect,” Loutonia replied.

She would not consider anything less.


Wednesday May 15 2075

From the ledger of Jacob Louis Phelps-Billet---

They buried my mother over the weekend. She lived to the ripe old age of 82. In this day and age, and even back when she was in her prime, it is and was a miracle she made it this far. Going through her things I found several diaries that date way back to when the world was turned on its head—the H7N9 viral pandemic which caused the “zombie apocalypse.” Funny really as the only things she wrote were about day to day activities with other soldiers, mainly her crew mates, and my father. I did read one little section that disturbed me, when she was pregnant with me, her doctors and even some of the military authorities had tried to make her abort me. I am glad she didn’t and probably others are also.

I write this as we man-up for a mission to New Holland, to bring back the lakeshore populace, as many as we can, before the lights go out and they are left defenseless. The steam engine is readying up. Our horse-drawn trucks are tethered and waiting.
I almost wish we were going to run across the zombies of olde versus the huge mutated creatures that stalk the outskirts of town. Zombies never would evade you, never second guess you. They were not smart predators.

May the good Lord and my mother and father be watching out for me and my men. We will need it.

Major General J.L. Phelps-Billet
GRCC Commander
May 2075

# # #

Peter Welmerink can be found at and He writes Military Action-Adventure and Epic Fantasy. He is married and tries to quell his small barbarian tribe of three boys when he can.





This beautiful handmade necklace from HMC by KATE

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