Caeli Widger - Mother of Invention

“Jesus Christ,” said Kate.

“I knew it,” said Gwen, her voice dead flat. “I knew it.”

On the screen were two babies, suspended in fluid, facing each other, attached at the sternum.

Conjoined twins.

In the warm track lighting of the living space, the sun bright gold outside, Tessa was suddenly freezing. The INR-View slipped out of her hand and bounced off the rug. Her phone went dark. Gwen pulled her shirt back over her belly and dropped onto the couch.

Kate began to cry. “Now I have to check mine, too. But I’m afraid.”

“Me, too,” said LaTonya.

Tessa summoned her calm. “Of course,” she said. “We’re going to look at the other babies together. But first.” She turned to Gwen, desperate to provide some comfort—but what? Gwen stared at Tessa, terror immobilizing her gaze, eyes dark and cold.

Tessa reached for Gwen’s chin and cupped it in her hand. Gently, she stroked the woman’s face.

“Listen to me, Gwen. Everything is going to be okay. I know that sounds impossible, under the circumstances, but I’m promising you.”

“Impossible,” said Gwen, toneless. “It’s over. They’ve been lying to me for all these weeks, and now my babies are going to die.”

“They will not die,” said Tessa.

Gwen gave a rueful laugh and removed Tessa’s hand. “You can stop right there, Tessa. Spare us the motivational speech. You’ve lost me. It’s over. You’ve probably known about this all along. You’re part of the team , after all.”

“No,” said Tessa, more sharply than she’d intended. “You’re welcome to every negative opinion of me except that one. I promise you, Gwen, that I knew nothing of this.”

“If she did, why would she bring us an INR-View?” said Kate, swiping at her tears.

“I don’t think she knew,” said LaTonya.

“Think about it,” said Gwen. “Think about who she is. A woman so obsessed with practicality and efficiency”—she spat the words—“that she’s trying to reconfigure the way people get made .”

“Wait,” said Tessa. “That’s not why—”

“Actions speak louder,” said Gwen. “You can spin it any way you like, but in the end, you are a woman who encourages other women to entrust their bodies and their babies to artificial manipulations. To take a pill so they don’t feel their pregnancies. To hand over their breast milk so it can be replicated. Did you ever consider that nature might be sort of wise? That maybe we’re supposed to feel sick during pregnancy? Maybe we’re supposed to suck it up and nurse our own babies, inconvenient as it may be? You say don’t blame the women, blame the system, but aren’t you expecting us to take all the risk?”

“We applied to be here,” said Kate. “No one pressured us into the Trial.”

“You’re wrong,” said Gwen. She pointed to Tessa. “She did.”

“What?” said Tessa.

“We all read your book,” said Gwen. “We know how eloquent it is. How persuasive, how exciting, how inspiring, how much of a…” Her voice cracked. “A complete and total mind-fuck it is for desperate women like me.”

Tessa waited for Kate or LaTonya to jump to her defense, but both remained silent. She felt them abruptly receding from her, crossing into solidarity with Gwen.

“You’ve misunderstood me,” said Tessa. “I have deep respect for the wisdom of nature. It’s expectations of women that’ve become unnatural. In a better world, we’d be allowed to stay home sick with nausea and nurse on demand around the clock. In a better world, women would get a stipend every year until their youngest child went to kindergarten. In a bet—”

“In a better world, you’d have enrolled in the Trial yourself,” said Gwen. “If you really believed in Seahorse one hundred percent, if you believed in everything you’re peddling in Pushing Through , then you would’ve put your money where your mouth is. We all know you’re married. We all know you’re rich. What was stopping you?”

“I…” Tessa fought to compose herself. “I couldn’t get pregnant. I mean we . My husband and I. Peter and me.” Her words sounded sloppy; she could not seem to compose them.

“Weak excuse,” said Gwen. “A woman like you wouldn’t let a detail like that stop you. A little show of uncooperativeness from nature. You’re a pioneer of reproductive technology, Tessa. Don’t tell me infertility really got in your way.”

Tessa stumbled back to the couch opposite the Cohort and let it catch her. She felt woozy, as if Gwen had spun her around and around, dislodging something at her center in the process. She leaned back against the couch and shut her eyes. Bile rose to the back of her throat. She felt violently queasy and pulled in air hard through her nostrils, willing herself not to throw up.

When she’d steadied herself, she opened her eyes. From the opposite couch, the three women watched her, waiting for answers.

“You’re right,” Tessa said slowly, meeting Gwen’s eyes. “I didn’t want a baby badly enough. I don’t want one badly enough. Peter wanted it, and I pretended to want it, but I didn’t. That’s why I’m not pregnant. That’s why I’m not in the Trial.”

“Okay,” said Gwen, with a hint of kindness. “Then it’s okay.”

“Oh, Tessa,” said Kate.

“I never gave a fuck that you weren’t in it,” said LaTonya.

Tessa’s hands were shaking and her nausea was still intense, but with great effort she summoned her focus. There was a situation to deal with.

“I didn’t know about your babies,” she said to Gwen.

“I believe you,” said Gwen.

“But I’m going to help you,” said Tessa. “I’m going to help you, and I’m going to punish whoever knew this and hid it from you.”

“Can retribution wait until Kate and I see our babies?” said LaTonya.

“Yes,” said Tessa, picking up the INR-View from where she’d dropped it on the floor.

“Technology is a feminist weapon, right?” said Kate weakly.

“Prepare for battle,” said Tessa grimly. She waved the wand through the air like a sword.

2021

To make the call, Tracy went to the Blue Room, one of the few spots at the Colony where he might operate unnoticed, at least for a short time. The room was designed for secrecy, for the secure transfer of ultrasensitive information, and thus digital communication that happened inside was protected by extra layers of encryption. Sure, there were plenty of folks at the ISA who could crack it, who’d probably only need a few minutes to trace who Tracy was calling and what he was telling them, but it might take hours before anyone looked at the data stream.

If he was lucky.

All he needed to do was delay their noticing. After that, they could discover him. They could penalize him any way they liked. As long as he executed his promises to Irene and Vivian, he no longer cared what happened to him afterward. His life was not worth the sum of theirs. Not by a long shot.

The underground room was dark and cool. He secured the door’s multiple locks and stood with his back against it. Just in case.

On his phone, he pulled up a photo of Viv, one that he’d taken on the plane he’d forced her to board in New Hampshire. It was the most troubling one he could find: her mouth slack, eyes half closed, head tipped back.

He tapped out a message: This is Wayne Bridger. I sat next to you on a flight from San Jose to Boston. I’m contacting you because Vivian Bourne is in grave danger and needs your help. I need to speak with you immediately in order to ensure her safety. Please place a blocked video call to me at this number ASAP. The situation is urgent.