Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

Borlav groaned and held up a hand. “Spare me the pity party. Take a deep breath. Night Survey’s not a big deal. Don’t jeopardize your retirement more than you already have. Trust me, we all want you out of here, too.” He heaved himself upright and stepped toward the door. “In the meantime, why don’t we both get some sleep? You’ll need it. Your Night Survey duty starts tomorrow.”

Tracy pictured the ten-by-twelve structure that served as his “home” when he was at the Colony: headstones , the field-ops sometimes called their residences. Inside his, nothing but a sink, a desk with a few ancient photos of Bethany’s kids tacked over it, curled up at their edges. The bed was a thin-mattressed twin, “extra long,” which was what field-ops considered a perk. He imagined climbing into it alone, the nights ahead of him an indefinite number, nights without Vivian, retirement returned to a vague notion.

He felt he might weep. “You go on,” he said to Borlav. “I’ll see myself out.”

“Good night, Theroux.”

When he was sure Borlav was gone, he closed the door and paged the nurses’ station in quarantine.

He’d brought Irene’s gift. The thing she’d asked him for a few weeks ago, when he’d visited her on the tranquil porch of her house in the Colony. He’d promised her.

The voice he’d been hoping for leapt into his ear, melodic and throaty: Quarantine, Johanna speaking.

“Johanna, it’s Theroux. I need a favor.”

“Tracy?” Her voice was like a bright beam piercing darkness. “Hello, baby. What can I do for you?”

“A couple of favors, actually.”

2021

Peter Grandwein’s robot here. Please leave a message for my master.

Tessa tapped “End” and lowered her phone from her ear as she walked down the hallway toward the Cohort’s residence. Normally his corny outgoing message made her smile, but she’d heard it so many times lately that it had ceased to amuse her. Peter was often out of signal range and Tessa was often unavailable when he did have a connection. Since he’d begun hiking the Pacific Crest Trail eight weeks ago, they’d managed to speak once a week, and Peter, who avoided texting and social media, messaged Tessa the occasional photo of some stunning vista. Now he was swinging into the last days of the hike, scheduled to exit in southern Oregon sometime in the next day or two and catch a flight back to San Jose. Then he’d spend a night at home in Atherton before heading to Tessa at Seahorse.

Tessa could hardly wait. She’d predicted that as the Cohort neared their collective due date, now just a week away, she’d be so consumed by the culmination of the Trial that Peter would be far from her mind. In truth, the impending births had made her miss him more than ever.

Right now, hearing his voice would help, too. Since yesterday’s tension with Luke over Vivian Bourne’s canceled trip, a chill had taken hold between them. She regretted accusing him so spontaneously, especially after Viv followed up later, explaining that her parents had pushed up their arrival date at Weldon for graduation, cutting into Viv’s trip to Seahorse.

So typical of my parents to barge across the country uninvited, she wrote to Tessa. Super bummed to postpone but maybe I can come after the births???

Of course, Tessa replied, though something in Viv’s tone annoyed her. It was too offhanded, too light, after her intensity when they’d met on campus, and throughout discussion of her trip. The Cohort would be disappointed. They were heavily pregnant now, deep in the equivalent of their third trimester and eager for any distraction, especially in the form of meeting a child of AG. They’d been almost giddy with anticipation.

Tessa had not yet broken the news of the canceled trip to the Cohort. She also hadn’t yet shown them the INR-View. Residual guilt, the g-word, over having wrongly accused Luke of meddling with Vivian Bourne had kept her from debuting the device with the Cohort.

Soon, she thought. For now, she’d hidden it in her room—much more carefully than Luke had hidden it.

Outside the residence door, Tessa knocked to be polite, then lifted her hand to the sensor for Zeus to admit her. She waited for the familiar voice, but it didn’t come.

She lifted her palm to the sensor again, more slowly.

Still nothing.

“Tessa?” Kate’s voice sounded through the door. It sounded odd. Tentative.

“It’s me,” said Tessa. “Is Zeus down?”

“Hang on,” said Kate. Again, Tessa waited for the door to unlock, but it didn’t.

“Hello?” she called through the door. “Can you let me in, Kate?”

Finally, the door swung open. Kate stood on the other side, her stomach bulging beneath a flowy sky-blue dress. She wore no makeup and Tessa noticed her eyes were rimmed with red. “Is everything okay?” said Tessa.

Kate sniffed.

“Tessa,” she said, “we need to talk to you.”

Tessa followed her into the living area, where LaTonya and Gwen sat on the couch. They both looked somber.

“What is it?” said Tessa.

“Can you come sit down with us?” said LaTonya.

Kate settled beside Gwen, and Tessa sat opposite the three women. A thick, tense silence lodged between them.

“Okay,” said Tessa, breaking. “It’s fraught in this room. What’s going on, you guys?”

LaTonya exhaled. “A fuck of a lot.”

“Go ahead and show her, Gwen,” said Kate.

Slowly, Gwen stood up from the couch, one hand cradling the bottom of her belly. It was massive, Tessa noticed, jutting out from under Gwen’s black maternity T-shirt.

“Show me what?” said Tessa.

“Tessa, look,” said Gwen. She took a deep breath and lifted her shirt.

“Oh my God,” said Tessa. No other words were available. Gwen’s pale belly was lumpen with not one bump but two twin mounds: one under her right breast, a half soccer ball, and another over her left hip bone, slightly smaller. Two separate hills, the valley between them shallow but distinct. Tessa fought not to look away.

“Go ahead,” said Gwen. “Feel them.” She stepped forward and grabbed Tessa’s hand and pressed it to the bump above her hip. Tessa wanted to pull away. Instead, she let her palm rest against Gwen’s lower bump. It was very firm, the skin stretched tightly across it.

“Feel that?” said Gwen.

“Yes.”

Gwen moved Tessa’s hand up to the second protrusion.

“And that?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever seen a pregnant woman’s stomach look like this?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Neither have I,” said Gwen, shaky.

LaTonya spoke. “She just woke up from a nap and suddenly looked this way.”

“It’s true,” said Gwen. “I fell asleep with one bump, and woke up with two.”

“Why haven’t you called a nurse?” asked Tessa.

“I don’t know. I’m afraid of what they’ll tell me.”

“Don’t panic,” said Tessa, feeling panicked. “Let’s get you down to Clinical right away.”

“I just had an ultrasound this morning,” said Gwen. “Like the rest of you. Everything was normal. Baby boy in head-down position. Measuring seventeen inches. What could have changed in four hours to make me look like this?”

“The baby could just be in a strange position,” said Tessa, having no idea if it was true. She removed her hands from Gwen’s belly and was grateful when Gwen’s shirt dropped down to conceal it.

“No,” Gwen whispered. “That’s not it.”

“I’m fucking scared,” said LaTonya, her voice cracking. “What is it?”