Growing Baby

What will your Baby Results be?

I wrote this story for a speculative fiction contest. I ain’t win, but here’s the story I submitted. I am always joking how I wish I could just have a test tube baby and skip pregnancy altogether! :) Enjoy!

Growing Baby

by María José

Karla threw on her coat and rushed out of her office. She was supposed to be home 40 minutes ago for the big reveal. She looked at her call log. Three missed calls from Jonathan. She rang her husband as she pressed the elevator button multiple times.

“Hi honey, my meeting ran la—”

“You were supposed to be home 40 minutes ago, Karla. I have the package in front of me. The anticipation is killing me!” Jonathan paced back and forth, his eyes glued to the small brown box sitting on the coffee table.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m on my way now. How about to make it up to you, I’ll swing by the wine store and get a bottle of our favorite Spanish—”

“No, no. That’s alright. Just hurry and get home,” he hung up, picked up his glass and took the last sip of his warm whiskey.

Twenty-three long minutes later, Karla burst through the apartment door.

“I'm here!” She tried to catch her breath, as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She had jogged three blocks in the wintry cold from the metro station to their building.

Jonathan leapt from the sofa like a rabbit towards her. Karla's eye caught the green tube still on the kitchen counter from this morning.

“Did you remember to feed the baby?” she asked her husband as he tugged her by the hand towards the small brown box.

“Karla, let's open it already! I almost tried opening it without you,” he laughed nervously, eyes transfixed on the small package.

“Jonathan. Answer my question first.”

“What question?” Jonathan finally glanced at the green tube Karla was pointing at, her eyebrows raised.

“Oh. No, I must’ve forgotten,” he looked down impatiently at his watch. “We still have 30 minutes within the feeding window. Let’s do it after we learn the results,” Jonathan squeezed his wife’s hand, smiling with all his teeth.

“Results? Jonathan, need I remind you that the results are pointless if there’s no baby to program the results into!” Karla grabbed the green tube and walked down the hallway towards the baby’s pastel yellow room.

The yellow soothed her as she walked over to the growing baby. It was the perfect color to complement the forest green color of the baby’s incubator pod, or E.A.W. (Ectogenesis Artificial Womb). Months ago, she had agonized with piles of swatches at her desk over what color to choose. She must have looked at hundreds of swatches until she saw a shade called “Morning Sun” and then, she just knew that was the one. The yellow and green palette reminded Karla of the sunrise her and Jonathan had woken up to last summer after their first night camping in the woods, the night they decided to have a baby.

“Hello, my little bean. Mama's finally home from work. And look what I've got. It’s your favorite,” she glowed as she held the green tube above the transparent incubator pod shaped like an egg.

The baby floated in the artificial womb, eyes closed like it was suspended in a dream. Karla inserted the green tube of nutrients into the feeding compartment.

“Yummy, my little honey,” she put her still cold hand on the warm pod. “You'll love being born in the summer, my summer baby. No one likes a winter birthday. Your father and I planned it that way,” she smiled.

“Hey, I was born in the winter. Just like you, Aquarius,” Jonathan chuckled at the doorway.

“Alright, you impatient Libra,” she walked over to him. “Let's open the box,” she tiptoed and kissed him on the lips.

Karla cut through the packaging tape with scissors and took out a smaller black box inside, so small it fit in the palm of her hand.

She opened the tiny black box to find the Results Cube inside, gold and shiny and almost weightless despite it looking like it was made of actual gold.

“This is Citizen 0-0-2-6-9-4-7-5-1-A-H,” Karla spoke loudly to the Results Cube.

“And this is Citizen 0-0-2-8-2-3-8-0-3-T-L,” Jonathan said.

The gold cube activated and a ray of blue light shot up to the ceiling.

“Hello, future parents Karla and Jonathan. Please stand directly in front of me for an eye scan,” the Results Cube instructed. Its voice sounded feminine, middle aged and northeast American.

The future parents stood closer together and widened their eyes. Karla hooked her pinky finger into Jonathan’s as they stood side by by side.

“Identities confirmed. Before I present your results, I will read you your rights as future parents:

As per the Healthy Genes Family Planning Act of 2098, every citizen has the right to genetically sequence their children’s DNA to create the healthiest child, guaranteeing a life with the lowest risk of disease or illness. The Gene Sequencing Logarithm has combined both of your DNA samples to find the most optimal, healthiest gene sequence combination for your future child. This result is called your ‘Default Optimal’ result.”

“Yes, yes, we know. What are our results?” Jonathan interrupted. Karla nudged him with her elbow. “What are our results, please,” Jonathan added.

“Jonathan, my love. The Cube was just about to tell us. I hope the baby has my patience gene,” she rubbed her neurotic husband’s back. Jonathan had been born with a 21% chance of developing an anxiety disorder. Unusually high, but anxiety ran deep on both sides of his family tree. Four generations of refugees since the Great War. He had family scattered all over the supercontinents.

“Sorry, please continue with the results,” Jonathan gave the gold cube a sheepish smile. “I won’t interrupt again, Karla.” More like Karlbot, he thought to himself. His wife had a tin veneer over her alleged 3% anxiety risk. She came from a family of very serious, distinguished scientists. But he knew that secretly, she hungered for the approval of her parents who referred to her career in children’s publishing as “colorful drawings with words.”

“The optimal results of your DNA,” the Results Cube continued, “Are the following:

Default Optimal: 6% risk of cancer. 3% risk of stroke. 2% risk of diabetes. 2% risk of Alzheimer's or dementia. 8% predisposition for mental health disorders. Organic Life Expectancy is 120+ years.”

Both parents finally stopped holding their breath and laughed through joyful tears. They shared a tight, long hug. Those are excellent odds, Karla thought. Those are the best odds my family has ever known. A star child, Jonathan thought.

“Thank you,” Karla told the gold cube, “I’m going to call my parents to tell them the great—”

“The results are not finished,” the Cube told the future parents. Karla and Jonathan gave each other puzzled looks.

“Not finished? You already told us our Default Optimal Results,” Jonathan’s forehead wrinkled.

“Yes. And there are two alternate results you can choose from. Outlier Gene Sequences.”

Karla suddenly couldn’t breathe. The world went silent. She felt her heart pound.

“Outlier—” Karla dropped down and sat on the couch behind them. Everyone had heard about the incredibly rare, almost mythical Outlier Gene Sequence. But no one actually knew anyone who had been given the Outlier choice. Newspapers predicted only 1 out of every billion growing babies were uploaded with Outlier Gene Sequences. No one knew for sure. The Healthy Families Division makes Outlier parents sign NDAs. And no one knows what happens to you if you decide to out your Outlier baby.

“An Outlier baby! And not one, but two Outlier options at that!” Jonathan reeled and plunked down on the sofa, hand clutching his left breast. A star child, indeed.

“An Outlier Child shall be an only child. If you exercise your one-time Outlier Gene Sequence rights as parents, you will be forfeiting your right to have any additional children. Regardless of whether you choose to upload your fetus with an Outlier Gene Sequence, you shall never, ever discuss this with anyone,” the Results Cube emphasized, “You will consent to a Non-Disclosure Agreement.”

“And what happens if for some reason we break the NDA?” Karla felt sweaty again.

“If you break the Non-Disclosure Agreement, you and any child you bring into the world will forfeit all rights to procreation. This remains in effect regardless of the status of your marriage or the death of a child,” the Results Cube warned. Karla looked over at Jonathan and mouthed the words ‘What the—’” she bit her front teeth hard on her bottom lip.

“Do you have any questions so far?” The cube asked the shocked couple.

“So, you—you would...sterilize us and our children if we ever broke the NDA?” Karla asked, shaking. Jonathan handed her a newly poured glass of whiskey. She gulped the harsh liquor and felt 5% more at ease. “Thank you, honey,” Karla nodded and shut her eyes. The whiskey burned down her throat and chest. She lifted the glass to her lips again and took a second swish.

“We call it ethical accountability. It is how The Council has drawn an ethical line on human genetic engineering. People should not be allowed to engineer Outlier babies en masse. The Outlier Genetic Sequence choice is a lottery of sorts. Think of it as winning the lottery,” the Results Cube informed them. Karla opened her eyes, half expecting to see confetti shoot out of the gold cube. But there was no confetti.

“Or the anti-lottery if we ever speak out,” Karla shook her head. She felt like running to her growing baby in its sunny, yellow room. The Results Cube had made the white living room walls feel like a glorified cell.

“Tell us the two Outlier results,” Jonathan stood up, shoulders back, chin angled upwards.

Karla closed her eyes again. Ethical accountability? Was it ethical to threaten them with sterilization, regardless of whether they choose to go through with having an Outlier baby?

“Outlier A: 99% chance of becoming a musical prodigy. 17% risk of cancer. 9% risk of stroke. 13% risk of diabetes. 16% risk of Alzheimer's or dementia. 18% predisposition for mental health disorders. Organic Life Expectancy is 80-90 years.

Outlier B: 99% chance of becoming an Olympic level athlete. 19% risk of cancer. 12% risk of stroke. 1% risk of diabetes. 23% risk of Alzheimer's or dementia. 21% predisposition for mental health disorders. Organic Life Expectancy is 80-90 years.”

“Those are terrible odds! And a much shorter life expectancy,” Karla couldn’t believe the numbers. “No. We choose the Default Optimal result.”

“Wait, hold on. Not so fast! Let’s think about this, Karla. A prodigy? Or Olympian? Our baby could be the next Beethoven or Lin-Manual Miranda...or Serena Williams or Pelé!” Jonathan implored her. “Results Cube, what percentage of parents given an Outlier choice end up choosing to have an Outlier baby?”

“Over 90%” the Cube stated.

“Honey, we should think about this,” he told the future mother of their growing baby.

“You have 12 hours to make a decision. If you choose to forego the Outlier option, your baby will be uploaded with the Default Optimal Gene Sequence. Tell me your agreed upon choice by 8:06AM tomorrow,” the gold cube shot up a red hologram countdown timer. 12:00:00. 11:59:59. 11:59:58. 11:59:57…

“Alright then, let’s talk,” Jonathan looked at his shaken wife.

The future parents debated, then argued for hours. Neither of them slept that night. Karla would not budge on her decision. Who cares if we have an Outlier baby if we end up outliving them! Which is the most probable outcome given their short life expectancy! And they may very well die in a hospital with us at their side, regretting this decision forever. What kind of parents would we be? And we would never be able to have any other children, don’t forget that small detail!

Jonathan was excited at winning the Outlier baby lottery. Imagine how successful our Outlier child will be! They’ll be in the history books! Celebrated by the world. Our family legacy would live on for decades, maybe even forever! That type of longevity beats organic life expectancy when you really think about it, dear.

At 8:00AM the couple had still not come to a decision. Both of their eyes stung and were swollen from bitter tears.

“What about a coin toss?” Jonathan suggested, giving up hope for his wife to change her mind and surrendering his will to chance.

“A coin toss on whether I should divorce you?” Karla snapped, “And anyway, coins are obsolete. Where would you find one, a museum?” her sarcasm cut.

“It’s an expression. Rock, paper, scissors?” he offered.

“You can’t be serious. You want to settle this like actual children?” she scoffed.

“One round. Winner decides.”

“Oh, Jonathan. I feel so sorry for you,” she pitied her desperate partner. “I can’t believe you would choose to knowingly outlive your child, even a—what did you call it again? Ah yes, a star child. What a star parent you are.”

“Tell that to the 90% of Outlier lottery parents who chose to have an Outlier baby!” he was suddenly shouting. “Our parents would have chosen Outlier, especially yours!” and with that, like a reflex, Karla slapped him across the face.

“It’s 8:05. What’s it gonna be, Karla?” he said, his cheek red.

“And what a star part—” her voice choked. “Partner you are.” She couldn’t stand to look at him any longer. He looked so different now. Selfish. Greedy. Insecure. Mean. She had never felt true loneliness before that morning. She ran to her baby’s room. Jonathan shouted after her, but did not follow her. Maybe she’ll come to her senses in the next 60 seconds. Maybe she’ll look at the baby and imagine their unmatched Outlier future.

Karla cried and moaned as her tears fell upon the surface of her growing baby’s pod.

“I love you so much,” she cried.

Beep. Beep. Beep. It was time.

She walked to the living room. The Results Cube scanned their eyes.

“What is your decision?” it asked.

“I want to abort the baby,” Karla said firmly, through tears.

“Karla, no! What are you—this is a one in a billion, one in a billion lifetimes chance!” Jonathan grabbed his wife’s shoulders.

“I don’t want to parent a child with you,” she said matter-of-factly to her current husband. “That is my right, isn’t it, Results Cube?” she turned her head to the gold cube.

“Correct. You are within the 24-week time window,” the cube stated.

“I don’t agree to this! No! No, no, no!” Jonathan grew hysterical.

“I don’t need you to agree. Both parents must be on board to carry out a pregnancy to full term. And I’m not on board anymore,” she wiped away tears with her hand. “That is my final decision, Results Cube. Citizen 0-0-2-6-9-4-7-5-1-A-H consents to terminate their artificial womb pregnancy.”

“Sign here,” the cube displayed a signature line with an X before it. Jonathan continued to yell.

Karla inhaled. She signed her name with her pointer finger. And dated it February 12, 2157.

“It is done. And remember, the Non-Disclosure Agreement is still in effect, indefinitely. You shall never, ever speak of this,” and the cube disappeared. “The Council wishes you the best of luck. There will be other opportunities to have children. Please contact Post-Abortion Counseling if you need any psychological services at your neighborhood Mental Health Services & Wellness office. Goodbye, Karla. Goodbye. Jonathan.” the Results Cube said and turned off.

Karla sprinted to the yellow room. The growing baby was gone too. Like it was never there at all.

“I hope you’re happy,” Jonathan had followed behind her.

“I’m not,” Karla said without turning to look behind her. “But I will be. This isn’t the end for me.”

Jonathan mumbled something. Karla heard his footsteps as he left the room. She smiled at the sunny, yellow walls. She took it all in one last time and shut the door. She had made the right choice.

* * *

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