by Glen W. Knape
“Are you sure?”
Shirley replied in a languid whisper, “Honey muffin, the nursery is almost done, Dr. Bhagwandas says we’re fertile, and you are obviously ready.”
Bob glanced down, grinned, and kissed his wife again. “Yes, I am, but I hate having to stop and buy the rights. Couldn’t we just...“
Shirley rolled away a few inches and slid her left hand up to Bob’s chest, “No, we couldn’t. You know they charge a penalty if you make a reproduction first.”
Bob groaned and rolled onto his back, “I wish we didn’t have to, it’s not like they invented genes or anything.”
“I know, Hon, but our parents did it this way too.”
“It just seems so unfair. If those greedy corporations didn’t have such a strong lobby ” Bob sighed, and said, “Screen on!”
The wall facing the foot of the bed lit, and the house assistant said, “Yes boss?” in a friendly, childlike voice.
“Search request: Human genome, licensing of.”
“Context boss?”
“We want to have a baby.”
“Congratulations boss, Ms. Jacobson!”
The screen lit, displaying a hand grasping a double helix, and the words The Genomics Consortium, We serve life. Then a blue and pink “Welcome” scrolled across the screen, to the sound of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyrie”. Meanwhile, the consortium’s searchbot identified them, found the recording of Bob’s parents, from their purchase thirty years earlier, and the obituary of Shirley’s alcoholic grandfather.
A kindly nurse-receptionist avatar appeared on the screen, seated behind a desk. She looked and sounded amazingly like Bob’s mother when she was young., and recording audio and video, so we can serve you better was blinking in small red letters on a screen next to her: “Genome Genie, your one stop shop for licensing human genes. How may I help you, Robert, Shirley?”
Bob felt an immediate sense of trust for the avatar, and his eyes filled with nostalgic tears as a corner of his mind recognized her face and voice. “Umm& We’d like to purchase full rights to one copy of the human genome.”
“Yes, Robert. Shirley, do you want any enhancements with that? As you can see from this chart, we offer a wide selection, and there is a special this week in drug resistant strains.”
The avatar pointed to a searchable product chart on a screen to her right, offering male, female, and hermaphrodite, in a wide variety of features, pelt types, shapes, preferences, aptitudes, and environmental adaptations.
Shirley’s eyes widened at the thought of a drug-resistant baby. She remembered her family gathering around a hospital bed, and a tearful farewell to her beloved grandfather. But, she also recalled the stories of genome bugs and resisted. She looked to Bob, who hesitated, unconsciously wanting to please the avatar. Then he shook his head from side to side, and Shirley responded. “No, no, we’re naturalists, we don’t want a McBaby. We just want to make one the old fashioned way.”
The avatar looked mildly surprised. “Are you sure? We can show you what your enhanced child will look like, from birth through adulthood, and basic psych profiles are free!” The image of a perfect infant girl appeared on the reception screen. The child was an idealized blending of Bob and Shirley’s features, and grew into a beautiful woman as they watched.
“This is, of course, merely an extrapolation of the basic model. You can add whatever additional features you desire and our fees are very... ”
Shirley groped for Bob’s left hand and squeezed. “Umm No, thank you,” said Bob.
“Very well, but since we will not be managing the reproduction, we will have to record a disclaimer for the archives.”
“Audio only!” declared Bob, as Shirley blushed a bright rose, grabbed the covers, and pulled them up and over Bob and herself.
“That will be adequate.” Said the avatar, as a red recording, audio only appeared on her virtual screen.
The avatar reached into a file drawer in her reception desk, took out a sheet of paper, and read it in a disapproving tone.
“Bob and Shirley Jacobson (hereinafter referred to as ‘clients’), do hereby acknowledge that they will be reproducing human DNA containing genes that were discovered and are owned by United Genomics, Human Dynamics, and Cellular Pharmaceuticals (hereinafter referred to as ‘principals’), without the professional advice, diagnosis or treatment of the principals. Since the clients are relying on the random process of recombination, the principals are in no way responsible for the result and do not share any of the risk by granting the clients single use rights.
“The granting of this single use does not create a physician-patient relationship, or any other relationship or obligation, and does not obligate the principals to follow-up or contact the clients.
“The reproduction will be deemed complete when a live birth occurs. In the event of a multiple pregnancy, a full licensing fee for each additional copy will be due immediately upon the clients’ detection of the unlicensed reproductions.
“In consideration for granting single use rights, the clients agree that in no event will the principals be liable to the clients in any manner whatsoever for any decision made or action or non-action taken by the clients in the use of the licensed genetic material.
“Do you agree?”
Slightly dazed, the Jacobsons nodded to the blinded screen.
“Yes,” gasped Bob.
“We do,” whispered a trembling Shirley, as she clutched Bob.
Very well, Mr. and Ms. Jacobson, that will be $5,395.00. How do you wish to pay?”
Bob said, “Visa,” authorizing a bill almost equal to their monthly house payment, and praying for a single birth.
“One moment Mr. Jacobson There, you are cleared and debited. Your assistant should have your receipt.”
“Got it boss.”
“Screen off!”
The couple lay still for a few seconds, hugging each other for comfort. Shirley began to cry, her tears falling on Bobs shoulder. She said, “Are we doing the right thing?”
“Yes babe. Our child will be ours, yours and mine, not the product of some soulless lab.”
“Honey, I want it so much!”
“I know, I know we’re ok now, she’s gone, it’s just you and me.”
Bob continued comforting Shirley, his voice growing softer and softer, until the only sounds were the pleasurable ones of a man and woman making a child.
Copyright © 2001 by Glen W. Knape