07.11.08
Prologue
Just teach me to despise.
Will time make men more wise?
Here within my lonely frame,
My eyes just hurt …..
“Shape of Things”
The Yardbirds, 1966
A laboratory in the Southern California Desert
United States Air Force Base
Undisclosed Location
1966
“No woman will ever agree to it.” Dr. White was almost shouting. He didn’t know why.
Dr. Jeffries sighed and ground out his cigarette. “We’ve been talking about this for months. I hope we don’t have any blue-collar middle-class moral scrupples popping up at this late date.”
“I’ve been a scientist a lot longer than you have.” Oh great, he thought, why did I say that? He was sixty-years-old. Jack Jeffries had been his graduate assistant, just as Geena Ganard was Jack’s assistant now. Funny thing, these young women going to college, even going to graduate school, and studying genetics, of all things. Geena was top-notch, but she’d inevitably find a nice husband and settle down and raise a family. It would be a shame to lose her. But White was distracted now. The point was, he had no reason to be arguing with that little snotnose Jack Jeffries as if they were third-graders. Maybe it was simply the newness of the experiment, the uniqueness. Maybe that’s why he felt upset. The genius of it. Of course it was uncomfortable to change the world, uncomfortable to be brilliant. They were going to change the world with this program. Change it for the better. He calmed down.
“Middle-class morals.” He snorted. “We are scientists. It’s just that no-“ He almost said ‘no decent woman,’ but he stopped himself. He really needed a drink. “I simply find it unlikely that an intelligent, healthy young woman –the kind of genetic stock we need–would agree to it.”
Geena cleared her throat and the two doctors grew silent for a moment, vaguely embarrassed that they’d been arguing as if she weren’t there.
“I’ll do it,” Geena said.
A smug expression started on Dr. Jeffries’ face while Dr. White suddenly realized he wasn’t quite as sophisticated as he thought.
“You’ll do it? You’ll host it?” He almost wanted to shake the girl.
“Host it? As if it’s an ‘it.’ As if it’s a parasite? No. I’ll be it’s mother.” She paused for a moment. “I’ll be the child’s mother.”
White looked down at Becky. She was old enough to be his daughter. His granddaughter. She was so lovely; her soft brown eyes, her delicate, young features. So intelligent. And so idealistic. If only he could take her aside, talk with her. Together they’d realize that they didn’t need to be so selective about the mother. They could find someone else.
The AM radio made a tinny sound. The Yardbirds were singing. When time and tide have been. Fall into your passing hands. Jack and Geena were staring at him. The silence had become uncomfortable. Please don’t destroy….
If he wanted a mother of good genetic stock, there was none better. All his arguments had been met. There was nothing else to do.
“Alright. I’ll make arrangements for the artificial insemination.”
They were still staring at him.
“You will be doing this by artificial insemination, won’t you?”
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