Karla Weatherbee sat in the demographics room, examining the data from her latest
population survey. She brushed wisps of long brown hair out of her eyes and began
chewing on her pencil, something she always did when she was nervous or dissatisfied.
Knowing that Commander Shestek would be expecting results based on her original, overly
optimistic projections, she ran her numbers though the computer, one more time. But the
results were the same. After all the time and power her group had expended to transport
fertilized eggs from 1986 back to the early '70's, she'd expected miracles. She'd expected to
find a notable increase in the number of 'gifted' individuals emerging from the earth-bound
population. In reality, none of those individuals had lived to adulthood. According to
planetary records, most of the embryos had died during the mother's pregnancy, at birth or
shortly thereafter.
As always when confronted with failure, Weatherbee needed
time to think and re-group. She retired to the ship's lounge for a quick scotch and soda,
and a chance to look though the lounge's display portals at the healthy, green planet with its
intriguing cloud formations and beautiful blue oceans. _If our mission fails,_ she thought,
_then this ship, crew and equipment, the entire endeavor, becomes nothing more than what
the opposition party called it back home in 3677. A money-eating monster._
Karla
drained her glass and moved to the bar to order a second, stronger beverage. Commander
Shestek slipped onto the bar stool next to hers. "Now, what's a nice girl like you doing in a
place like this, Lieutenant?"
"Trying to decide how I'm going to break the bad
news to you."
"And what news would that be?" he asked, a comforting smile appearing
on his rugged face.
"That I was wrong. Despite all our precautions, it looks like
our embryos did not survive the time-trip. Now, we've got to start over, from square
one."
"I suspected as much."
"Huh--You knew the mission was going
to be a failure?"
"The mission is not a failure, Lieutenant."
"Just
because the time transportation equipment worked smoothly, that doesn't mean this mission
has been a success. Other ships have analyzed every aspect of the time-jumps. What
additional information can we give our superiors to justify the time and money spent on our
voyage?" To emphasize her disappointment, Karla quickly downed her second drink, barely
feeling the effects from her first.
"Go easy on that
stuff."
"Why?"
"Because you still have a lot of work to do."
Shestek felt sorry for the pretty young analyst, but thought he could set her mind at
ease. "Remember I told you that information on this voyage would be disseminated on a
'need to know' basis?"
"Yeah, I remember. I wasn't allowed to know about
ship's armaments or your top secret communications to Admiral Belson. But I guess
that's all 'moot' now, isn't it? I mean, whatever Machiavellian plans you had for the
development of those embryos are dead, along with the embryos,
themselves."
"Lieutenant--Karla, we do have a plan B, you know. It's messier
than plan A but it has a much greater chance of success."
"What are you
telling me, Commander?"
"I'm ordering you to have just one more drink and
relax, then go to bed early and meet me at the briefing room at 0800 hours, tomorrow
morning. I'll explain it all at that time." The Commander got up from his stool, tossing down
a few credits to pay for his drink as well as Karla's.
As he left the bar, Shestek
glanced back to look at his lieutenant. She certainly was a lovely young woman. In
other circumstances, he'd have tried to take advantage of that beauty. In the present
circumstances, her shapely curves, beautiful green eyes and long tresses would be more
valuable to the mission than any other single piece of equipment, save for the time-transport
unit, itself.
#
Jeffrey Hudson peered through his powerful new
telescope, and tried to focus in on something old--something incredibly distant and removed
from his existence, like the M100 galaxy. He finally zoomed in on a small patch of stars
which, hopefully, were part of the Virgo cluster.
_This is really fascinating stuff,_
he thought. _I could be looking at stars that haven't existed for millions or at least thousands
of years. I'm looking straight into the past. It's incredible._
Suddenly, a long snake-like
space object appeared over the stars.
"Peek-A-Boo. Time for school," said his
Mother, wiggling fingers over the lens. "Come downstairs, your breakfast is ready."
"Mom, you shouldn't touch the lens with your fingers. You'll get oil on
it."
"Sorry," she said as he hurried back out of his room and down to the kitchen,
to finish making breakfast for Jeff and his younger sister.
Jeff dressed quickly
and tried to prepare himself for the horrors of another day in the 10th grade. He changed
into un-fashionable but comfortable jeans and a loose fitting shirt, then snapped his
mini-calculator snugly onto his belt buckle, threw a few pens into his breast pocket protector
and ran downstairs to the kitchen.
"I'll be taking your sister to ballet practice this
afternoon, so you'll be here by yourself for awhile, if that's OK," said Mom.
"Fine."
"Are you sure you're not afraid to stay here by yourself?"
"Mom. I'm sixteen. I'm almost a grown man."
"Well, invite a friend or two
over if you like. Invite that boy John Green. You two seem to get along so
well."
"Maybe. We haven't spoken much lately."
"Are you having
trouble with the kids at school, again?"
"No, Mom. Don't worry about me.
Everything's fine."
Everything wasn't 'fine' but Jeff wasn't about to tell his mother
all his problems. The kids at school picked on him mercilessly. They teased him, called him
'Nerd-face', flushed his gym shorts down the toilet and tossed his organized class notes into
the air, making math and science papers fly through the halls like propaganda leaflets in
World War Two Germany.
"The other kids all call him 'merd', Mom," said Lisa,
his nine-year-old sister. "That's all I hear all day long. 'Your brother's a merd--He's a
science merd.'" She jammed her spoon into her bowl of 'Super Sweety Health Flakes' to
emphasize her point.
"Ok, Lisa. That's enough."
"Science merd!
Jeffrey is a science merd! Ha Ha!"
"Listen, half-pint. The word is 'nerd'. I'm a
science nerd, not a science merd."
"Mom, what's worse? A nerd or a
merd?"
"Finish your breakfast, dear. And stop teasing your brother."
#
Karla Weatherbee and Commander Shestek watched Jeffrey leave for
school from the large monitor in their briefing room. With them were the two biologists, Dr.
Bacon and Dr. Egger, known affectionately as 'Bacon and Eggs.'
"He really
is a very ordinary looking young man," noted Egger.
"Quite ordinary," agreed
Bacon.
"But studies show that he's a great source for the genes we need back in
1970," said Karla.
"A few children like him, born between 1970 and 1972, will
greatly accelerate the current growth of technology in the areas of physics and applied
mathematics," said the Commander.
"Along with a few verbally and artistically
gifted children, to initiate a simultaneous growth in the arts and social sciences," said
Bacon.
"Yes. We absolutely need the artistic children too, Commander," said
Egger.
"But maybe you all are forgetting what I told you this morning," said Karla.
"The experiment is dead because the embryos we sent back to 1970 are dead. When we
implanted them in the selected mothers, they didn't grow, despite your advanced biological
techniques. And your assurances that the time transport wouldn't affect
them."
"Hey, don't lay the blame on us," said Bacon.
"We just
followed established protocols," added Egger.
"Devised by our superiors back
home."
"Now children, don't squabble," said the Commander. "The project isn't
dead. Maybe the embryos weren't viable before we took them on their time trip. We could
start the project over again. And keep the embryos under constant observation, this
time."
"Is that what you're recommending, Commander?" asked Karla.
"No.
As a matter of fact, there's a second authorized protocol for this experiment, one that would
give us a much better chance at success."
"A better chance at success? If this
protocol is so far superior, why didn't we follow it in the first place?"
"The
other methods were, let's just say, easier on the crew."
"And this new method?" asked Bacon.
"Works how?" asked Egger.
"Through in-vivo rather than
in-vitro fertilization of the eggs."
"Now, hold on a second, Commander. You think we
can simply impregnate a young girl, have her bring the embryo to the point of viability, then
simply remove it from her without her knowing a thing?"
"No, Lieutenant. That
won't work. It might raise suspicions, especially if one of the young ladies goes to her
gynecologist before we remove the embryo."
"Oh, I see . . . You want one of us
to be artificially inseminated with the genetic material . . . "
"You mean
sperm."
"Ok . . . sperm from this subject?"
"Not exactly. The process
of artificial insemination adds yet another unwanted variable to our equation. Transportation
up to the ship will stun the sperm, make it less potent. So, it could take months to
successfully impregnate our surrogate mother. And how long can we wait before performing
the insemination? Do we have the facilities to place the sperm in stasis until it's ready for
use? Remember, the leaders back home didn't put much value in our little project."
"He's right," said Bacon.
"They sent us back to this century with the
minimum amount of equipment we would need to complete the mission," added Egger.
"So, I just can't see using expensive, wasteful artificial insemination when simple
intercourse will suffice. Especially since we have the technology to insure a pregnancy under
natural conditions."
"You want one of us to volunteer to have intercourse with a
subject?"
"Not one of you, all twenty-five women on this ship
must volunteer, then immediately transport to the 1970 destination point, where the
fertilized egg will be placed in a suitable indigenous female.
"Now wait a second,
Commander. You want to conduct these studies with 20th century sperm coupled with 37th
century eggs. That sort of ruins the purity of the experiment, don't you think?" asked
Bacon.
"No. Because the traits we need to infuse into the population can be
garnered from available sperm. And the embryos' additional 37th century genetic
material will not adversely affect the personality and interests of the being we ultimately
create."
"But--but maybe we could do the whole experiment back in 1970. We
could fertilize our eggs with sperm from that era, and transplant them into the pregnant
woman . . . " said Egger.
"Avoiding time transportation of the embryos, altogether,"
added Bacon.
"Won't work, gentleman. Karla, tell them why." Karla
had momentarily lost the train of the conversation. She was trying to think of a way to
keep her mission commander from viewing her body as a precious
resource.
"Karla . . . a little demographic explanation if you please."
"Bacon
& Eggs, you'd better stick to biology. The reason we've been working in 1986 to begin with
stems from the fact that the genes we need were in scarce supply back in '70. Scientific and
artistic types were ingesting a number of hallucinogenic and psychotropic drugs for academic
studies or recreational use. And those drugs weakened the kind of genetic material we're
trying to reproduce. Only here, in 1986, after those hallucinogenic drugs had fallen out of
popular use, were sperm with the desired DNA traits readily available once
again."
"So, why can't be just incubate babies with those traits here-- now. Why
take them back to 1970?"
"Because 1986 has a glut of these minds coming into
being. So many that the society, in its present state, has no use for them all. By 2030, they'll
end up being used car salesman or independent business owners," said the
Commander.
"But these babies were in short supply back in '70. That's why
technological advances slowed to a crawl over the late 20th century. If we re-populate that
era, we'll have the young thinkers we need now and over the next twenty years,
to popularize scientific study and point more ordinary research minds in the proper
direction. Our planet, our leaders in 3677 need five-hundred to one-thousand cryo-electrical
geniuses for the development of star voyaging chambers. They only have a couple hundred
at this point. It's our job to double or triple that figure," added Karla, "by increasing the
numbers of potential ancestors."
"I'm glad you see it my way,
Lieutenant."
"I don't see it your way, Commander. But I can't think of another
viable solution. So, I'll follow your orders and we'll see what happens."
"Heck
Commander. Sounds like a reasonable plan to us," said Bacon and Eggs. "But thank god
we're not women." They both left the room, hand-in-hand, stifling back adolescent
giggles.
Sometime later, Karla approached her commander for one last word on
the subject. "Commander, maybe we SHOULD consider artificial insemination as an
alternative to--to what you're proposing."
"I'm proposing completing my mission
in a way that'll give us the best chance for success. And you know it as well as I do."
"A lot of the women on this ship are going to object."
"Well, for now, I only
have to worry about one woman. My prototype subject."
"And who is this
lucky gal?" asked Karla, dreading to hear the answer.
"You Karla. You've got to
be the first 'surrogate mother.'"
"Why?"
"Because you're a senior officer.
You know more about what's going on around here than most people. And because I can
trust you, Karla. I can trust you to do the job, right."
"Thanks a bunch for the
vote of confidence, Commander."
"Don't mention it."
#
The
Commander and Karla watched Jeffrey Hudson go through an afternoon of school, from the
comforts of their 37th century viewing chamber.
"What's so special about this
particular subject, Commander?"
"Well, in twnety years he becomes a key figure in the
Nasa research team. Everybody knows about the astronauts, Stanley and Giffenson, who first
landed on Mars. But few people are aware that it was the work of this man, along with two or
three of his colleagues, who made it all possible."
"He's a pretty unlikely hero, I'd
say," Karla noted as she watched him, buck naked, running around his gym-class locker
room after the larger boy who'd stolen all his clothes.
"Whatsa matter Nerd-face?
Can't catch me?" asked the larger boy as he stayed two or three paces in front of the future
Nasa star.
"Gimme my stuff. Come on. Gimme my stuff."
"Oh look," said
Karla. "Those other boys are watching the action and laughing at our subject."
"Well, at this stage in his life he's a misfit. And teens don't treat misfits kindly,"
said the Commander.
"Go Nerd-face Go! Go Nerd-face Go!" yelled the boys
who were watching the action. Then, an older man walked into the room and the yelling
boys scattered. Even Jeffrey's tormentor dropped the clothes he was holding and ran for
cover.
"What's going on here?" the gym class instructor demanded. Jeffrey,
hastily picking up his clothes, had no ready answer.
"Hudson, why are you parading
around here naked? Hoping one of the girls will see your naked butt, I
suppose."
"No. No sir. I was just . . . me and the guys, we were just messing
around."
"Why doesn't he tell the teacher what happened?" Karla asked her
commander. "Why doesn't he tattle on the boy who stole his clothes?"
"There's
an unwritten code among teenage boys, Karla, even in our day. You don't turn in a fellow
student for teasing. You use your wits and your muscles to get revenge."
"That's
so stupid and macho."
"Maybe," admitted the commander. "But that's the way it
is."
"Ok fine. I've watched the subject at school and at home. Now what? Do we
anesthetize the boy and bring him on board so I can seduce him in private, I
hope?"
"Well, he has to be conscious during the act, and I don't want him going
around telling UFO stories. So, I'd rather you went down to earth to mate with
him."
"You just want me to walk up to a strange boy and tell him to take me to
bed, without any pre-amble. Suppose he doesn't want to have intercourse with
me?"
"Karla, you're a twenty-six-year old woman with a pretty face and a damn
nice body. You won't have any trouble seducing him, believe me."
"And where
are we supposed to do it?"
"In his bedroom. There'll be no one home the entire
afternoon."
"I'm somewhat uncomfortable with this, Commander."
"It's all
part of the job, Lieutenant."
"Wonderful."
#
After the
uncomfortable incident in gym class, Jeffrey Hudson hoped to have an easy time in Algebra
class, breeze through Social Studies, his last class of the day, and then head home to relax
with his telescope. But when he entered the math classroom, all eyes were on him.
News had gotten around about the gym-class incident.
The teacher was
droning on about x-cubed plus y-squared when Jeffrey received the note. It was a folded
piece of yellow paper, passed to him by the boy on the left. He opened the note and read its
anonymous hurtful contents. He was about to hide it in his pocket when Mr. Jackson, the
Algebra teacher, called on him.
"Mr. Hudson."
"Yes."
"Mr.
Hudson, do you know the answer to the problem we've all been trying so hard to solve?
How would you factor x-cubed plus y- squared plus 45 equals 345?"
"Uh . . .
"
"Perhaps you don't know the answer because you haven't been paying
attention. Let me see that note you're reading."
"What note."
"The
note that's in your hand, Mr. Hudson."
"Uh--this isn't anything. I'll put it
away."
"Give it to me, Mr. Hudson," insisted the teacher, moving to Jeffrey's desk
and standing in front of him with an outstretched hand. Jeffrey reluctantly handed him the
note.
"Now let's see what kind of important correspondence is going on while I'm
trying to teach algebra. 'Dear Jeffrey. I hear there's less of you than meets the
eye.'"
The class broke out in peals of laughter, making Jeff feel quite
insignificant.
"Quiet. Quiet," ordered the teacher. "Now, who wrote this note?"
The class was silent. Nobody wanted to admit authorship.
"Tell me who wrote the note or you'll all be doing double homework tonight." Still, nobody stepped forward. "Fine,"
said the teacher, returning to his desk and turning to the back of his textbook. "Tonight you
will all be responsible for questions 1-40 on page 35 and 1-25 on page 37." The air filled with
groans and whines. All of the kids shot Jeffrey nasty looks. And when the teacher's back
was turned, someone took a rubber band and shot a wad of paper at Jeffrey's neck. It hurt
like the dickens, but Jeffrey knew better than to complain.
After Algebra, Jeffrey
tried to hurry to his last class as quickly as possible. But Caroline Orderly, the most attractive
cheerleader at school, caught his eye.
"Hey Jeff, come here for a second," she
ordered. Reason told Jeffrey to ignore her, but her face and figure were not to be
ignored.
"Hi Caroline," he said sheepishly.
"Jeff. I just wanted to ask.
Do you have a date for the dance on Saturday night?"
"Uh, no, but . .
."
"Well guess what? You still don't!" said the girl with a laugh as she turned tail
and re-joined her friends.
#
"What a bitch," said Karla Weatherbee to
her commander, after watching the interchange with the girl.
"It's typical high
school nonsense, Karla. But I hope you noted how the girl was dressed, how she wore her
hair and makeup."
"Sure. That's the sexy 'Lolita' look. Knee-high socks, short skirt,
pony tail, red lipstick. When I was younger, I dressed like that on occasion."
"Well
that's what he finds attractive. So that's how you should be
dressed."
"Commander," said Karla. "I haven't dressed like that on a date in over
ten years."
"This isn't a 'date', Lieutenant, It's a mission. So please follow
orders."
"If I must," said Karla.
"Given his typical schedule, he should
be home in about an hour, so you should start your preparations. Did you take
the fertility drugs prescribed by Bacon and Eggs?
"Yes
sir."
"Very good."
#
After the final bell rang, Jeffrey
gathered up his books and ran for the door. He had no intention of having any more contact
with kids that afternoon.
Outside, several of the tougher boys, angry about the
extra Algebra homework, shouted at him.
"Hey Nerd-face. Come here so I can
kick your butt. Nerd-face where are you going? Come back here." Jeffrey broke into a run,
down suburban streets, past barking dogs and small children. He tried to take a short cut
through one man's yard but was stopped.
"Hey is this your yard?" asked the man.
"No, sir. But the other kids might be after me today. I need to take the
short-cut."
"Not through my yard."
"But sir."
"Get out of
here, kid."
Jeffrey took the long way home, and was stopped, a block from his
house, by a bully with fists ready to punch.
"Hey Nerd-face," said the larger boy,
grabbing Jeffrey by the shirt collar. "Want to hit me?"
"Uh--not really. Let me
go."
"Come on, chicken, hit me," dared the boy. So Jeffrey obliged with a right to
the boy's gut. And in return, the boy landed a solid blow to Jeffrey's stomach, sending him
sprawling to the ground. "You are such a Nerd-face, Hudson. Hope I didn't mess your
pocket protector, wuss."
Karla, dressed like a debutante and feeling like a fool,
watched Jeffrey's altercation with the bully from a few paces down the street. After the boy
had left, she ran to the punched-out young man, lying on the grass in front of a suburban
home.
"You're not having a good day, are you?" she asked as Jeffrey painfully
got to his feet.
"I just had the wind knocked out of me, that's all,"
Jeff replied. "I'm Ok now, Miss."
_Now what do I do?_ thought Karla. _Just
take him home and rape him?_ "Where do you live?" she asked.
"Just down the
street."
"Let me help you there."
Jeffrey looked at this gorgeous older
woman with the friendly smile. She'd just seen him knocked on his ass. She probably
though he was a fool. "I'm Ok," he said. "That punch just took me by surprise. That's all. I'm
much better now."
Karla helped the boy to his front door. "You're very nice, but this is where I live. So I guess I'd better . . ."
"Invite me inside?"
Jeffrey
gulped and glanced again at this beautiful woman who looked a little bit like Caroline
Orderly.
"Do you want to come inside?"
"Yes."
"Well,
come in," he said, unlocking the door and ushering the woman into his home. "We're all
alone here. My mom took my sister to ballet lessons his afternoon."
"That's nice."
"Can I get you anything. Anything to drink or eat?"
Karla wanted to
get her mission over with. She'd had her own troubles as an adolescent, before her body
had developed. She was finding Jeffrey's life almost too uncomfortable
and embarrassing for words.
_He's a sweet boy, really. I wish he had more
friends. Or a nice girl to date,_ she thought, just before grabbing him and kissing him hard
on the mouth.
"What. What was that for?"
"I think you're a pretty
great guy, Jeff."
"How do you know my name?"
"I know a lot of
things about you," she said, starting to unbutton her blouse.
"What--what
are you doing?" Jeff asked.
"Isn't it obvious, Jeffrey?"
"But--but I don't
know you."
"So what?"
Whatever the woman's motives, Jeffrey knew
a golden opportunity when he saw one. So he threw his arms around the woman and
planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.
"Hey, you're getting the idea now,
Jeff."
"Yes, Ma'am. That was fun. Didn't you think so?"
Instead of
answering, Karla took his Jeffrey by the hand and led him into his bedroom. She helped him
undress and get into bed. Then, she disrobed completely, making the boy drool
with anticipation.
"You're so beautiful," he said. Karla joined him in bed and
gave him a little more encouragement. Almost immediately, the boy's hormones spurred him
into action. Soon, she could feel his long red tongue exploring her secret areas. Soon, her
juices began to flow and her body convulsed in ecstacy. And shortly thereafter, he performed
the act as professionally as a man twice his age.
#
Two weeks later,
Bacon and Eggs gave Karla a thorough examination.
"Well you're
pregnant. And the embryo is alive and thriving," they told her.
"Great. The
commander will be pleased."
"I'm more than pleased," said Commander Shestek.
"I'm positively ecstatic."
"Hold your ecstasy until we make the time-jump back to
1970, Commander."
"I'm sure your body will protect the embryo from transport,
Karla. I'd bet my life on it."
Karla wasn't as certain as the Commander. And she
was feeling very guilty over the whole experience. She'd seduced and raped an under-aged
boy. That wasn't to be taken lightly.
Karla now had a new hobby, watching the
boy, Jeffrey, from the view screen in the briefing room. He seemed none the worse for wear.
And he hadn't fallen in love with her, as you might expect an adolescent boy in his situation
to do. Even though she'd disappeared from his bedchamber following the act, he didn't
seem lonely and depressed over the next few days. If anything, he seemed more confident
and mature. He wasn't wearing that stupid pocket protector to school anymore and he was
learning to shout back at the bullies who tormented him.
"I'd say you did that boy
a world of good, Karla," said Commander Shestek.
"Commander, you startled
me. I didn't see you come in."
"Just wanted to tell you, we're going to jump back
to 1970 in about five minutes. It's time to strap yourself in the safety seat we designed to
give the embryo a little more protection."
"OK. I'm ready. Just tell me one thing--about
the boy, Jeffrey."
"I told you. He becomes a Nasa whiz kid in a few
years."
"But does he ever get married?"
"No."
"And I'll
bet that's my fault."
"Nonsense. He probably just never finds the right
girl."
"If you say so, Commander."
Karla went to deck eleven and
strapped herself into the safety seat for the time-trip back to 1970. The trip itself was over in
a flash. And moments later, Bacon and Eggs were by her side, leading her to the
examination room.
"The embryo is thriving, Commander," said Egger a short
while later.
"It's definitely viable," said Bacon.
"Great. Now we'll remove it
from Karla and transplant it into our test mom."
"Maybe. Maybe I should bring
the child to term myself. Then, after delivery, we could deliver it to an orphanage
or something."
"Karla, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard you say. We
want this child to be brought up in a particular family, a family able to nurture its gifts and
ultimately send it to the proper college, where its mind can be discovered."
"Yes,
Commander."
Karla underwent the painless operation about a week later. Two
days after that, she found the nerve to confront Bacon and Eggs.
"How's the embryo
doing?"
"We implanted it in the mother, and it seems to be thriving in her uterus,"
said Egger.
"Yes. This variation on the experiment seems to have worked out
just fine," added Bacon.
"Did you tell the Commander?"
"They
certainly did," said Shestek, as he entered the room. "You have my congratulations. This was
a job well done. Now, we just have to choose other subjects and repeat the procedure. And
our mission will be an unqualified success."
"Are you going to make me seduce
another boy?"
"No Karla. Your body needs to recover. We have other women
on this ship besides you, you know."
"Thank the
lord."
#
After his 'date' with the mystery woman, Jeffrey felt like a
million bucks. Even though she'd disappeared without a trace, she'd given him the
confidence to face his adolescent fears. The next time his clothes were stolen in gym class,
he'd rushed the offender and pummeled him with a series of punches. The bully wasn't hurt,
but he was a bit surprised.
"Hey Nerd-face, what's happening? Are you learning
to stand up for yourself?" asked the bully, now lying prone on the floor.
Jeff calmly put on his clothes. "My name is Jeffrey. Not 'Nerd- face'. Jeffrey."
"OK, Jeffrey. Glad to see you've developed a little backbone. I'm proud of you. But the next time you punch
me, you'll be picking your teeth up off the floor. Understood?"
"Yeah, I get what
you're saying." The bully talked tough, but Jeffrey knew that the teasing was about to stop,
or at least lessen.
Still, he didn't have a date for the next dance, scheduled for
Saturday night. So when he left the gym, he approached Caroline Orderly.
"Caroline. Are you doing anything on Saturday night?"
"Yeah, I'm
going to the dance with Freddy. What are you doing, little boy?"
"I'm not a little
boy."
"Maybe, but you're also not my type," she said, skipping away to have a
word with one of her girlfriends.
Jeffrey was prepared to spend another Saturday
night at home, alone, when he spotted a girl he'd never seen before.
"Hi. I'm
Jeffrey. Are you new at school?"
"Yeah. My parents just moved her from across
town. My name's Conchita. Conchita Gomez."
"Are you Spanish or
Mexican?"
"My Dad is of Mexican extraction. He moved to this country when he
was just a boy."
"You don't look Mexican."
"Is that good or
bad?"
"Neither. It's just a fact."
"Well, you don't look like a
Nerd-face."
"Beg your pardon."
"That's what they all call you, isn't it.
They call you 'Nerd- face'."
"I'm trying to get a new nick-name."
"How
about 'Professor'. You look kind of like a professor. And everyone knows how smart you
are."
"OK, call me 'Professor'."
"Are you doing anything Saturday
night, Professor?"
"I'm looking for a date for the dance.
Interested?"
"Definitely."
#
The mission looked like it
was going to be a success after all. Every woman on the ship went down to earth to become
impregnated by a suitable subject. Most of these subjects were as young as Jeffrey, but
many of Karla's co-workers were intrigued rather than revolted by this fact.
"Well
Lieutenant, what do you think? We've had twenty-five pregnancies and twenty-one viable
embryos transported back to 1970. By 3677, those twenty-one embryos translate into over
ten- thousand solid scientific minds."
"Great."
"Here in 1986, those
embryos are all healthy sixteen-year-old kids now. We've been observing them. In fact, you
may not be aware, but we time-jumped to the year 2000 to get a look at these children as
adults. Two won Nobel prizes for various scientific disciplines. And one of the artistic types
wrote a fairly revolutionary science fiction novel which sold millions of
copies."
"When we get back home, you'll probably be in line for
a promotion, Commander."
"From your mouth to our leader's ears,
Karla."
"So, which kid is mine?"
"That information is available only on
a need to know basis. And Lieutenant, you don't need to know. I don't want the woman on
my staff developing unnecessary attachments to these children. They all die years before
we're even born, so what's the point?"
"The point is--I'm curious. That's all. I'm certainly
not going to transport myself to earth and try to raise the child myself"
"Well, maybe I'll
tell you, eventually." The Commander was in one of his tight-lipped closed-mouthed moods
and Karla knew she wasn't going to get any more information out of him. So, she decided to
drop the issue, for the moment.
"OK--Commander. But--since we're here in '86
again, let's take another look at the first subject. My subject. Jeffrey."
"Sure. Still
worried about the kid, huh?"
"A little."
"OK, let's tune him
in."
The view screen showed Jeffrey at a high school event, dancing romantically
with a lovely young girl his own age.
"He doesn't look like he's pining for you
Karla," joked the Commander.
"He looks happy."
"Of course he looks
happy. That's a pretty girl he's dancing with. In fact, she's one of our embryos. In later
years, she goes to work with Jeffrey at Nasa. And eventually, he marries
her."
"Before, you said he never got married."
"Before, Conchita
Gomez didn't exist."
"OK. So, we've done well."
"Real well. There's
only one slight problem which really doesn't affect anything so I'm not going to bother trying
to correct it," said the Commander.
"What kind of problem?"
"You
really don't want to know, believe me."
"Tell me please, Commander." Karla
could see the Commander fighting with himself, trying to decide whether to share his little
secret.
"OK, I'll tell you. But only because you're a senior officer. And this is not
to be repeated. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
"That girl your Jeffrey is
dancing with, the one he eventually marries."
"Yes."
"Well, she's your
child, Karla."
"What??"
"You heard me. Conchita Gomez is your
child."
"So Jeffrey. . .Jeffrey marries . . ."
"His own
daughter."
end