Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

“Look,” she said to Tessa.

“Look at what?”

“The top of my head.”

Tessa stood and looked at the pale white line of the girl’s scalp.

“I’m looking.”

“Look harder,” said Viv, her voice muffled by the curtains of her hair. “Or better yet, touch the top of my head, right at the crown.”

Tessa glanced at the barista. She was hunched over her laptop, tapping away, oblivious to them.

“Go ahead,” said Viv, impatient.

Reluctantly, Tessa moved an index finger to the top of Viv’s head and lightly touched the designated spot.

“Come closer,” said Viv. “Look right at the spot you’re touching. Press down on it. It’s okay, really. I need you to do it.”

Tessa moved from across the table to beside Viv. She lowered her face closer to the young woman’s head.

And then she saw it: a narrow divot in the center of her scalp, about three inches long and a quarter inch wide.

A cleft.

“I see it,” said Tessa, and removed her hand.

Viv straightened and her hair tumbled over her shoulders. She sat back down in her chair and Tessa followed suit, feeling something like a caffeine buzz run through her body, though she hadn’t yet touched her tea.

“So yeah,” said Viv, reaching for her mug. “I was an accelerated baby. The real deal.”

A message chimed on Tessa’s phone.

Holly Mackaday: ETA?

She ignored it.

“Okay,” said Tessa, trying to sound casual. “So my speech this morning probably struck you… differently than the rest of the audience.” She met Viv’s blue eyes. “I’d love to hear your reaction. And I really appreciate your sharing your personal story with me.”

“It’s not really a story ,” said Viv sharply. “It’s a major event in history. That, like a lot of major shit, people were interested in for”—she snapped her fingers—“about ten minutes.”

“I’m interested,” said Tessa. “I actually care about it a great deal.”

“Because we gave you the idea for your project, right? We’re the spark that lit the Seahorse empire, right? I wouldn’t call that caring . I’d call that a self-serving connection.”

“That’s a fair point. It’s more accurate to say that your situation was a source of great inspiration for me.”

“Why? What inspired you about a bunch of babies who grew at warp speed? Are you drawn to freaks?”

“You’re hardly freaks. I’ve studied all the data that’s available. It indicates that accelerated babies became normal adults. I can’t say what your private experience has been, though I’d like to know.”

“Why?” Viv’s tone was addled.

“I’m curious. Learning about your origin had a powerful effect on me.”

“And how did you? Learn about it?”

Tessa spoke carefully. “The early aughts aren’t that clear in my memory. The web was young. But I’m sure I read about it online somewhere. The Times or the Wall Street Journal or CNN . It could have been any number of sources.”

“No, it couldn’t have.”

“Excuse me?” Tessa took a sip of her tea. It was cold.

“Run a two-minute web search and see for yourself. There’s practically nothing on the entire internet about us. A couple of puff pieces and a happy-ending New York Times story. That’s it.”

“Archiving wasn’t standardized back then. The cloud barely existed.”

“So? There’s endless original reporting on 9/11 still up. Plus a zillion other news stories, major and minor. Remember the Y2K panic? The downfall of Winona Ryder? Elizabeth Smart getting kidnapped? This is all stuff I’ve learned about straight from twenty-year-old content I googled in about five seconds. But when it comes to AG”—Viv made a slicing motion at her neck—“practically zilch.”

Another message pinged on Tessa’s phone.

Holly Mackaday: Tessa? Hello?

“Excuse me,” said Tessa to Viv, and quickly typed, Indefinitely delayed on urgent matter, deepest apologies.

Then she turned her phone off.

“I’ve already searched,” she said. “I’ve read everything on AG that’s publicly available. Plus a number of scientific papers.”

“And don’t you think the amount is scant?”

“I think perhaps there were too many other things going on,” said Tessa. “As you mentioned, it was around the same time as 9/11. But I’ll take another look.”

“You should,” said Viv. She flicked her thumbnails together and stared at the tiled tabletop, as if contemplating saying more.

Tessa lowered her voice and spoke slowly—her management voice , Peter called it. But it worked—people usually opened up.

“If you’re open to talking about it, I’d be curious to hear more about growing up as a child of AG,” she said. “I’d love to buy you lunch. Turns out my reception is delayed, so I’ve got time.”

Viv looked up, looking mildly exasperated. For the first time, Tessa noticed the tiredness of the young woman’s face, the dry, lightly creased skin around her eyes, as if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Viv was so pretty at first glance—the contrast of her dark hair and light eyes—that it was easy not to notice that she actually looked rather worn down.

“That’s the thing,” said Viv. “There is no more.”

“No more what?”

“No more to tell you. My childhood was perfectly normal.”

“What about your parents?”

Viv shrugged. “My father’s a lawyer. My mother runs a gym. It’s called Elisercise, because her name’s Elise, get it?” She gave a short, disdainful laugh. “She talks about her AG pregnancy like it was one of her workout challenges.” She hooked her fingers into air quotes. “Very high intensity, but I trusted my body and ended up being grateful for the experience.”

“She really says that?”

“Yep,” said Viv. “And about a hundred other variations of it. My dad isn’t any better. He claims to hardly remember it. I was definitely pretty scared is as deep as he’ll go.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“Nope. So it’s not like my birth is blending together with a bunch of others.”

“It must be hard to get such superficial descriptions,” said Tessa, “of an event that’s usually a monumental experience.”

“Like the birth of your only kid ?” Viv bobbed her head in agreement. “Totally. It drives me crazy. My parents are somewhat idiotic. I mean, they love me, but…” She trailed off, then seemed to catch herself. “But that’s not why I dragged you to a coffee shop. Not for some therapy session about my parents. I just wanted to talk to you before Seahorse explodes and your acceleration technology becomes this big buzzy thing I’m reading about everywhere. I just wanted to remind you that AG already existed, before you and your team invented it.”

“I… I’m glad you brought that up,” said Tessa. Viv’s tone had taken on a subtly hostile edge. For the first time since they’d sat down, Tessa felt uneasy. Viv had struck her as outspoken and direct, but now Tessa could hear anger beneath the girl’s confidence. Tessa spoke carefully. “Acknowledging our original inspiration is a critical part of the Seahorse Solution’s value proposition.” She watched skepticism darken Viv’s face when she heard the corporate lingo. “What I mean is,” said Tessa, flustered, “I will make sure the natural AG children are remembered. And honored.”

“Um. Thank you,” said Viv. “But I’m not all that interested in being honored. Neither are my AG friends. All we want to know is why this happened to us.”

“It’s been investigated over and over,” said Tessa. “I’m sure you know that.”