Thumb Tech

Thumb Tech: The Evolution of Technology vs. Mother Nature. Some years from now, the State of Corporate was brimming with all manner of people, but each person had a distinctive characteristic that separated the current civilization from all that came before. Male or female, whatever size, color, shape, political persuasion or sexual orientation, they all shared a common physical characteristic that no other generation had.Their hands evolved because their ancestors long ago preferred using a certain digit to perform everyday computing tasks.

A sturdy baby with a pudgy face, he was the most beautiful thing his mother had ever seen, except his hands weren't right.
"Oh, no, Roger. Look at his hands."
Roger saw the hands. He picked up his biocup, but didn't drink any coffee.
"It'll be all right, Abigail." He looked at the midwife. "How did this happen? All the tests came back okay."
"Poor thing," Pam said without emotion.
Roger looked at his son's hands. Beautiful, even deformed. He looked at his own hands, bigger, longer thumbs tapered slender to a tip, so unlike what his son's would become.
He glared at the midwife and disliked her prim and superior attitude.
"My son is not a poor thing."
"Lovely," without meaning.
From her outward manner, the birth assistant appeared calm and all business. Her belly, however, knotted in tension and fear from the moment the newborn came into view and she saw his horrible hands. She stopped thinking straight, just went by rote, right on through the washing and the skin-to-skin bonding time. She should have stopped and reported. Big mistake not to do so. A mark in her file was certain. That was the least of her worries.
She looked at her hands.
"I wonder if I've been infected. My hands are going to become deformed and useless." She was wide-eyed. "This birth is a major catastrophe. The whole city will be quarantined and investigated. Any mothers-to-be will be reexamined. We could have a statewide lockdown."