Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

“I hope you’re right. I’m not sure I can do this more than once.”

“Gupta, Rita, MD. Authorized to proceed.” Zeus’s voice through the speaker interrupted Chopin. “Milford, Roger, MD. Authorized to proceed.” The exam door clicked open and the doctors stepped through.

“Knock, knock!” said Gupta, the obstetrician a fortyish Indian woman with lustrous hair and skin, her voice a melodic soprano. “Kate, Tessa, good afternoon.”

Milford, the reprogeneticist, grunted a greeting. He was in his sixties, white-haired, slightly stooped, with an underhydrated look. Seahorse’s two lead physicians formed a perfect yin and yang of medical horsepower, a triumph of Luke’s networking efforts.

“Are we ready?” Gupta smiled at Kate.

“How’d it go with the others?” asked Kate. “How are Gwen and LaTonya?”

“No complications,” said Gupta. “They’re both perfect.”

“Lie back, please,” said Milford. He tapped the monitor beside Kate to life and its screen glowed dark green. “You can watch here.” He moved behind the white sheet and Gupta joined him.

“Knees wider, please,” said Milford. “You’ll feel some coldness.”

Kate latched her eyes to Tessa’s.

“Now relax,” said Milford.

“Oh my God,” said Kate, looking at the images on the screen, which resembled several round pieces of coral, pocked with holes.

“Everything’s fine,” came Gupta’s voice. “Please try to stay still.”

“Kate, you’ll feel a dull prodding sensation,” said Milford. “It may be slightly uncomfortable.”

Suddenly, Kate drew in her breath, a sharp suck. “Oh!”

“Got it,” said Milford. “Sorry about that.”

Kate’s eyes glossed with tears. “That hurt,” she whispered.

The screen went dark.

Gupta snapped her gloves off and tossed them into the gleaming trash bin. “You did beautifully, my dear. Now you’ll just lie here with your legs elevated for a few minutes. Then the nurses will come to transport you back to the residence. You’ll want to rest for several hours.”

“When will we know if it worked?” said Kate.

For the first time, Milford smiled. “In forty-eight hours we’ll administer pregnancy tests.”

“Usually we’d wait two weeks,” said Gupta. “But these cells are fast.”

Tessa thought Kate’s face looked bare and childlike. “Is it okay that I’ve done this?” She sounded unlike herself, close to panicked. “Tessa, is it okay?”

“Dear one.” Tessa took both of Kate’s hands in her own. “It is absolutely okay.”

2021

After the Cohort’s transfer procedures, Tessa spent an hour debriefing with Luke and the clinical team. They were all restraining their optimism over how well the transfers appeared to have gone. They offered one another tempered congratulations. Only Luke dared use language like about to stun the world and just a matter of time until you’re all household names . But he always spoke that way; the team was used to it. Tessa hardly even cringed anymore.

At 4:00 p.m., they broke for the day. Tessa took a walk on the grounds of the Center. Later she would spend time in her office, catching up, and then eat dinner with the Cohort, but now she just needed to be alone. To decompress. Outside, the fog had burned off and the sky was lucid, vibrant blue. As she walked along the footpath lining the bluffs, she called Peter.

“Smooth sailing,” she told him. “No victory laps yet, but we’re on our way.”

“Aren’t they scared?” said Peter. “Kate and the other two? That another human has probably already started growing inside them, on fast-forward. Isn’t it just a little bit terrifying?”

“Of course,” said Tessa. “Fear is a natural part of the process. But what matters is that they’ve learned to keep it in check. And it’s not fast-forward . It’s a carefully engineered, calibrated acceleration process based on a preexisting genetic template.”

“In layman’s terms, fast-forward.”

“Okay, okay. That just makes it sound… manic. When it’s carefully controlled. Anyway, how are you?”

“Fine. Python and I did a great run on Pulgas Ridge. But I’m curious to see the action at Seahorse. How long until Python and I can visit?”

Tessa bristled. She’d been gone less than a day. “I’m not sure. After my trip to Boston. I’m back on the twenty-third.”

“Oh, right. Your Weldon speech. So we’ll come on the twenty-fourth.”

“Let’s wait to lock it in.”

“Okay.” Peter sounded disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just going to be… really intense around here. Until the Cohort settles into their pregnancies.”

“I understand,” said Peter, though he didn’t sound like he did.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Do you…” He spoke slowly. “Does being around all this pregnancy activity make you sad at all?”

“Honestly”—she paused, deliberating how truthful to be—“Honestly, no. Not yet, anyway. Maybe when I meet the babies I’ll feel differently. But it was so hard for us. I’m relieved not to be going through it any longer. I’m just focused on supporting the Cohort in their experience.”

“Oh.” Peter sounded let down. “Well. I was just wondering.”

“Does it bother you that I’m not upset?”

“Should we get into this now?”

“We don’t have to. I just asked a question.”

Peter was silent, then said, “ Bother isn’t the word. It’s more like perplexed . Sometimes I just can’t understand you.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“How you can compartmentalize like this. We wanted to get pregnant. We tried every natural and unnatural option out there and we couldn’t. And now you’re this… sort of coach for a group of women with these ultraengineered pregnancies. It’s just hard for me to understand how you can be in this position and not feel… conflicted.”

Tessa felt her palms dampen around her phone. When she spoke, her voice sounded tight. “I am conflicted, Peter. I just can’t let it interfere with my work.”

“But you’re not working right now. You’re talking to me.”

“Would it be better if my voice were shaking? If I were expressing more angst?”

Peter sighed. “No, Tessa, that’s not what I mean. I just want to make sure you’re really okay.”

“ Okay-ness isn’t a real thing. You can decide to make something okay or not. Men do this seamlessly all the time and no one questions them. Do you think a male CEO has ever been asked if he’s really okay ?”

“Hopefully by his spouse, yes. I’m your husband, Tessa. Not some colleague. I’m trying to communicate honestly with you.”

Tessa felt herself release and soften. “I know you are. I’m sorry. I have no choice but to stay focused. I can’t afford to let any personal issues interfere with Seahorse right now. It’s a slippery slope.”

“I know. It’s just that sometimes it seems there are two Tessas, my Tessa and work Tessa, and I miss mine.” His voice dropped and strained. She felt a pang of the g-word, mixed with irritation and tenderness, picturing him standing in their bright kitchen in his running shorts, phone between his head and shoulder as he chopped vegetables on the cutting board, Python curled on the floor. She missed him. She also sometimes wished he were different. That he didn’t need quite so much from her.

“I love you,” she said. “I’ll see you soon, okay? As soon as I’m back from Boston and get my bearings.”

“Okay,” he said. “Bye.”

He didn’t say he loved her, too.