Two Thousand And Twenty Four
If there was one thing sure in this world, it was that Minidisea loved you. The poster was simple to ensure people understood, the white letters on red paper jarring against the concrete. The ASL were holding a rally at 14 o-clock to remind everyone how important it was to remember that in everything you did. There was no space where it was acceptable not to show your appreciation and trust for what Minidisea had done to keep you safe.
Sarah had been in the Anti-Sex League since 2022, one of the most fastidious supporters of the ministry. Some of the other young women were eager to get their sex passports renewed each week for their government approved partners, but thankfully their numbers were going down. The thought sickened her, the selfishness of the touching, the unnecessary risk of bodily contact without intentional procreation. There were rumors that Minidisea were planning on making physical contact illegal for couples who were not attempting procreation, something that could not be passed fast enough in the minds of the ASL. So far, they’d only been able to demand that Governmental Approved Partners (GAPs) were limited to a marital spouse with weekly testing. Sarah had tried to enforce public support of further restrictions in the factory canteen, but had mixed success.
“Bodily contact,” she had snapped at a couple holding hands, “Encourages the transmission of disease and the increase of mutations and variants. Is physical affection really more important than obeying Minidisea to you? Are you that selfish?” A few people had clapped, but the couple had merely let go of each other’s hands and retreated to the end of the room. “Your selfishness,” she shouted, “Costs lives and betrays the ministry.”
That was a a dangerous accusation to make. People had been taken away for less. The man pushed his plate away, staring directly at her. “Everyone in this room has a vaccine passport. Even then, COVID-19 has only killed 30 people this year. And before you say anything, HIV isn’t a risk for GAPs who have daily sex passports. Don’t you think it’s time we moved on from these sort of controls, ma’am?”
Sarah stared. “There are over 41,000 viruses circulating in this nation, not just COVID-19,” she stated firmly. “It is the desire of the ASL to prevent all transmission, eradicate disease and save lives.” The man had laughed, long and hard.
“You really think you can stop diseases existing? You’ll end the human race before you end disease.” The man was emboldened by the quiet agreement across the room, holding his frightened wife’s hand on top of the table.
“You do know it’s a criminal offence to criticize the restrictions and guidance of Minidisea, sir?” She said coldly. “The sex restriction rules are in place for your safety and the safety of others. Minidisea loves you and wants to keep you safe.” A few other girls in the red sashes of Minidisea stood up in support of her, pointing at their victim.
Shame on you, Shame on you! Shame on the filth and disease of you!
They repeated the slogan over and over, louder and louder until the wife begged her husband to leave, tears running down her face. Sarah crossed her arms triumphantly, sitting down only when the door thudded shut behind them. “So disgusting,” she said, sanitizing her hands. “I’d never let anyone bodily contact me, ever.” The girls around the tables near her nodded in agreement. “We have in vitro, we have sperm banks now. Men can easily satisfy themselves and dispose of unapproved bodily fluid. The risk of disease and death- no- it’s the selfishness of it. That’s what I don’t understand.”
The young woman opposite her flexed her hands in her lap, glancing over at the door. “Do you think we should go get tested for diseases? Just in case? I mean- we were in the same room as them.” She flushed red. “I just don’t want to be banned from ever having the privilege of a government approved partner if I’m found to not to have reported a potential infection, you know-”
“You don’t need bodily contact,” Sarah snapped. “There is absolutely no reason anyone needs a physical contact partner. The lockdowns clearly established that it was not a health requirement to have bodily contact. You’re being as selfish as them.” The girl fell silent, her face white with fear.
“You know what,” Sarah added, adjusting her visor slightly to start her meal. “I really am going to report that man to the Minidisea.” The women clapped approvingly. “I wish I could see his fat wife’s face when his GAP privileges will be revoked.”