by Chris Ramos
“Uhh, yes, well, thank you for your time,” Tym said, careful not to say too much in case the man was an administrator. “I should get back to my work. I hope you find your way home, Mr. . . . ?”
“You are very talented, Tym.” He mispronounced the name.
“Very close. My name actually rhymes with slim. Although, I am far from it. Ha. Wait, how did you know my . . . ,” Tym started.
“You should be using your talents to help the people in need, not the ones who would hoard your special gifts and keep them for their own use.”
Tym was intrigued, that much was true, but also on guard. He still felt this was a test from LifeSpan.
However, there was something in the stranger’s eyes he found calming. There was a tranquility there. Tym’s heart told him to trust in this old man. He was wise of mind, he could already tell, but worldly wise beyond Tym, for sure. Sci Tym decided to take a chance.
“What if I told you I had a breakthrough capable of helping the entire population?”
“I would tell you to share it with the entire population,” came the honest reply.
“Do you work for LifeSpan?”
“No.”
“Have you ever worked for LifeSpan?”
“That is a very convoluted question. You would have to come with me to hear that story. You would have to leave this all behind, never to return.”
“What security would I have?”
“I will be your family now.”
“You still never told me your name.”
“You can call me the Father.” And with that, Tym knew he had made the right decision. He motioned for the Father to stay where he was, on the road, and Tym did something that surprised even himself. He ran back to the lab.
Tym rarely ran anywhere. His bulk alone, pushing 300 pounds, was enough to keep him living a slower lifestyle. On top of his body mass, there were the many numerous inventions, gadgets and trinkets bulging from every pocket and strung around his neck and arms. His appearance was more like a bouncing ball wrapped with wires and chain.
When Tym ran, it was only for extremely exceptional occasions. Lucky for them both, this was a matter of urgency.
Tym reached the entry pad, and placed his hand on the identification plate outside. The door swished open, sliding into the frame, and a metallic voice chimed, “Welcome back, Sci Tym.”
He knew this would be the last transmission anyone would receive from him. Tym walked over to the long plasteel workspace and scooped up his glove. The wires connecting to the wall and ceiling far above were easily detached from the electronic sleeve, and Tym stuffed it under his arm. The information he had uploaded previously, including his most recent breakthrough, was safely stored in the glove memory.
Tym tried to move fast. He knew if he allowed himself one moment of rest, he would rationalize what he was about to do, and possibly change his mind. He was committed to fleeing with the Father, but his lab had too much information to leave behind. The trick was in the retrieval.
There were a series of monitors lining the far wall, each a connection point to different sectors within LifeSpan. His laboratory was networked with many other labs, each compiling and storing data, constantly trying to improve upon the latest incremental change. Tym also knew that each network was connected because of the technology chain from the previous laboratory.
If he unplugged from the web of labs, he would be disconnecting almost a third of the other labs across the globe. Surely, someone would notice and send word of his breach.
He would have to leave it all behind. A life’s work of technological breakthroughs. Unique access to the combined minds of the world’s top scientists. It would all be left behind.
Tym gripped his glove even harder. At least they wouldn’t get this. Not even Trina would see his groundbreaking design for the three-part nano engine.
Trina. He should let her know. He should tell her in privacy, in trust.
Suddenly his knees were weak, and he wanted nothing more than to call her up on the wall screen and pour his heart out, to divulge everything about her that he held dear. She was working within LifeSpan, but she was a treasure unable to shine in her dim box. He couldn’t leave without saying something to her. He couldn’t leave without telling her.
He tumbled over to the interlocked screens and started a new document, entitled Three Parts to Engine Propulsion. It only took him a minute to update her on his epiphany. He sent the file for her eyes only.
Tym backed away from the screens, lingered for one last view of his laboratory, and ran out the door. The swishing panel closed behind him. This was a final goodbye to his life as a LifeSpan Sci.
He was relieved to see the Father still standing on the road. He gave Tym an approving nod, and began walking back down the road. Tym lurched to catch up to him, and they walked in silence for some time.
“What’s the glove for?” The Father broke the stillness.
Tym looked down at the crumpled glove cradled in his arm.
“It’s for the people,” he replied truthfully.
The Father patted him lightly on the arm, raised his hood, and they walked toward the town, neither saying another word.
Three Parts to Engine Propulsion.
Step 1: Tingle of a flame,
Step 2: Combustion of affection,
Step 3: Burning of desire.
I will miss you, Trina.
Sci Tym
Mother says I should be outside playing with the Collectors at the park. It is, after all, Saturday. A group of the “white clouds,” as everyone calls them, give toys and sweets at the field across our street. Usually, they laugh and run with us. They are so fast! We never have a chance to catch up. Sometimes I think they are testing us. I don’t want to go out and play, because I don’t trust the Collectors. I shouldn’t be writing such nonsense, but I was questioned by one of the white clouds. He asked me if I told anyone about my ideas, he asked me if I share my stories and all my questions. He seemed angry at my next question for him. I only asked where they take us when we expire.
LINEAGE
Mary reached the front steps of the Birth and Development Building before Jon. As he shuffled along behind her, the doors came into view. What was once a solid white plasteel wall transformed into a door and swished open.
Jon now stood next to Mary as a representative of LifeSpan emerged. He wore an ivory coat, slim fit, with a stiff collar sticking up high above his shoulders, ending just below his earlobes. He moved stiffly, unable to turn his head without his shoulders following suit. He bowed in greeting to Jon and Mary.
“Welcome. I am Dr. Dehmer. We have been looking forward to meeting you,” he said. “Please, if you will follow me inside, all is prepared for you both.”
Jon nodded, smiled, and let his wife lead the way. The three of them walked down the seamless white plasteel hallway. The only sound was their own footfalls. They continued on for many minutes. Finally, unable to take the silence, Mary asked, “Are there any children in the facility today that we may see?”
“No. None you may gawk at, since that is your intention. During the gestation period, the fetuses are in a strictly controlled environment. They are initiated and matured to full development in a condition tube.”
“That sounds very technical. Will I at least be able to see our child during the process?” Mary pressed. “I would think the parents are able to be involved in the process.”
The Doctor stopped walking and slowly turned toward Mary. His eyes looked uninterested, but contained an intensity that could not be ignored. “No, Mrs. Jenkins, you will not be able to view your child until he or she is handed to you. Your involvement begins and ends in the donor room. After that, we can handle the rest. The growing fetus is regulated constantly; pumps remove toxins from the subject and simultaneously dispense drugs. Growth hormones further the process; antibodies ensure the assimilation. I assure you it’s quite a science, not a single drop too much, not a single pump too little. The
machines respond to each minuscule change. Finally, freeing the organism from all the impurities we naturally attract upon conception.
“Removing the mother’s body from the equation allows the fetus to focus solely on itself and naturally grow at a quicker rate in the gestation tubes. The child relies on us to adequately develop its body, instead of relying on an outdated, organic womb.”
“It’s a boy . . . um, will be a boy,” Mary meekly replied, shrinking slightly under his gaze.
“Precious.” The word rolled off of his barely cracked lips. He began walking again and stopped. Sighed. “Do you have a name chosen?” The Doctor had been informed that small talk helped a conversation.
“Yes, yes, I was thinking of naming our boy Cole,” Jon replied, stepping in front of Mary.
“You were thinking, or you are doing?”
“Doing, uh, yes, we are naming him Cole,” Jon clarified.
“Well, congratulations on making one decision.”
“Thank you?” Jon didn’t know if that was a compliment. He looked over to Mary, but she was staring off.
Mary was thinking of what life would be like three months from now. There were still so many details to finish at home. What would be his favorite toy? Would he act like his father, a daydreamer? Hopefully, he would take on his mother’s more creative aspects.
“If you will follow me to the donation room, we can begin our process, furthermore allowing you to go back to your home and finish making decisions on wall hues and playful trinkets,” the Doctor finished with a scoff.
The three of them walked slowly down the glossy hallway. Mary and Jon glanced around nervously, palms sweating. Dr. Dehmer was singular in focus, his eyes half closed with boredom. Not a word was said among them until the Doctor stopped at a door marked simply with three horizontal dashes.
“Please, allow me.” The Doctor opened and swung the door inward, waiting for the couple to enter first.
Surprisingly furnished with comfortable plush seating and soothing colors, the room was a stark contrast to the facility seen thus far. Mary noticed the calming wall color, the coordinated furnishings and the slight aroma of lavender. The couple sat at the edge of the couch, obviously tense. A silver swiveling chair was set against a small plasteel desk. The only silver furniture in the room was in such contrast that it could only be assumed the Doctor’s seat. They had assumed correctly, as he lowered himself into the cold, hard seat, looking right at home.
Mary looked around the room again, and relaxed her shoulders a bit.
“We are honored to be here. This is great. It actually reminds me of home.” Jon turned and smiled at Mary. “Isn’t that right, Buttercup?” Sometimes he tried so hard to cheer her up, with little effect.
“Yes, well, obviously, it is made for you to enjoy. I need to finish a few more questions before we continue. When you were a child, was there any—”
The Doctor was interrupted by the door abruptly opening, and a young nurse poked her head around the corner. Her eyes darted around the room and she looked at the floor. Her voice quivered as she quickly delivered her message.
“Excuse me, Dr. Dehmer, this could not wait,” the nurse apologized.
She handed him a digiscreen. He read it over, and Mary watched him closely. She read his body language, his behavior, and noticed a very small, imperceptible raise of his eyebrow. He glanced quickly at Mary and Jon and again at the nurse.
“There are robes folded behind you. Change into them. Leave all of your personal belongings in this room. You will not need them for our next stage.”
Dr. Dehmer swiped his finger across the screen, moving the message to his private files. Locking the digiscreen, he excused himself from the room, leaving the digiscreen behind.
Immediately Mary hopped off of the couch, and walked along the wall towards the door.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Mary. You have that look in your eyes. What just happened?” Jon was looking around, feeling eyes on him as Mary was stalking around the room, listening and eventually working her way over to the digiscreen. Staring down at the thin silver screen, she knew there was something in there that turned the Doctor off of them. She wanted to have a child so badly, she didn’t want anything to jeopardize that.
“Mary, what are you thinking?” Jon knew she was in one of her question everything moments. She gets that from her mom, he thought. Jon removed his clothing and changed into the robes.
Mary picked up the digiscreen and the screen displayed a locked status. As with any digiscreen, it will only unlock when the registered owner is touching the device. She knows one trick, though, that by turning the digiscreen off and back on, it will display the last message it was open to, a failsafe in case the power abruptly failed. She turned it off, then back on, and left it on the counter, waiting for the Doctor to return and touch it again. Mary changed into the robes.
The door swished open, and Dr. Dehmer apologized for the interruption. As the door was closing to the hallways, Mary noticed two men were standing on either side of the doorway, their shoulders visible around the doorjamb. Did the Doctor need escorts for Jon and her?
As the Doctor reached for his digiscreen, Mary conveniently dropped her clothing pile. She stooped to pick it up and looked at his screen at the same time. The last message pulled up instantly, and she was able to read the opening sentence before he swiped his finger across the screen and scooped up the pad.
“Now you will follow me to the birthing facility and we will finish what you came here for,” the Doctor said.
Mary was shocked, and only glanced at Jon, wishing she could tell him the message as she saw it. She was second-guessing herself even now. Did she read that correctly?
The screen read, Possible members of the Movement. Exercise special caution when . . .
Jon walked over, took her hand in his, gave a nod to the Doctor and followed him down the hallway. Their “escorts” followed closely behind, pretending to read their own digiscreens and talk to each other about various patients and procedures.
The Doctor led them farther into the vast complex that was the LifeSpan Birth and Development Building, finally arriving at an oversized plasteel door. As with every wall and doorway in the LifeSpan complex, there were not any noticeable seams. In fact, Jon barely noticed a doorway, until the Doctor raised his hand and removed his glove.
He waved his exposed hand in a counterclockwise motion once to the right, and again to the left. The doors opened with a small hiss, revealing a well-lit room, with attendants standing around the edges and two chairs in the middle.
“Please have a seat.” Dr. Dehmer nodded to the vanilla-colored chairs. “Jon in the left chair, Mary in the right.”
As they sat, flexible mechanical arms lowered from the ceiling and the attendants attached suction points to both Mary’s and Jon’s left wrists.
“What are they doing to my wrist?” Mary asked, and tried to sit up.
“Please remain seated; you are being cleaned for the transfusion.” Another attendant stepped forward and lowered Mary back into the seat back.
The suctioning continued, slowly moving up and down their forearms. Mary was staring at the tubes, wondering how clean she needed to be for whatever they were preparing. She looked over at Jon and noticed he was squirming in his chair, his feet wringing into each other. He was more ticklish than she was, but he kept very still even though his face betrayed him.
“We need three crucial samples from you today, all of which will be taken while you remain in your seated position. You will not experience any discomfort. Please do not try to rise out of your seat again.” Dr. Dehmer’s voice drawled out in the quiet, sterile room, like he had repeated the same litany too many times to make it sound interesting anymore.
“The first extraction will be the basic cells from your body. Red blood cells and white blood cells. Of course, oxygen plays a huge role in the development of proteins and nucleic acids. . . ,” the Doctor droned on in the background.
Mary was thinking about the future. A huge weight was settling onto her shoulders, and she knew Jon was just as worried. How would they be as parents? Actually being allowed to have a child was one thing, and she knew from her friends’ lighthearted heckling that a child was a tremendous amount of work. How would Jon handle the extra responsibility, and would he be jealous of the attention their child would take away from him?
“The bones are another factor when growing a new infant subject. You can’t just string together calcium-rich supplements and hope the rest will fall into place. You need to start with a base, and nurture a chain reaction within the marrow and increase the density of the bone mass over—”
Mary looked down at the cleaning tube and was shocked to see it was no longer cleaning the surface of her forearm. Rather, it was under her skin, slowly pulsing without causing her any pain.
“Doctor!” Mary cried out, reaching with her free hand to grab at the tube.
“Please, just sit back, and quit overreacting.” The second attendant was now standing over her chair. Mary tried to look over at Jon, but her view was blocked by the nurses.
“It’s alright, Mary, trust them,” Jon spoke softly, but with a command that calmed her immediately. If he is making it through, then I can, she thought.
Just as Mary leaned back, another tube snaked down from the ceiling and attached itself under her robe, between her legs. She felt pressure as the machine snaked in. The nurses stepped back and unlocked a release bar under Mary and Jon’s chairs. Mary could see another tube attached between his legs. The nurses pushed their chairs together, as the tubes stretched to compensate.
