Projekt ☆M@rlene☆

After the events of last week, almost unreal days followed.




I felt strange, almost dispossessed of my body. I felt strange about my mother, who looked at me with that smug, judicious but cold look. I felt strange and distant about everything and everyone, including Anya, my best friend.
Anya, who showed up unexpectedly today during my break at work, and insisted on offering me a milkshake.

Friendships like ours are looked upon with distrust by adults: exclusive and deep attachments are generally hindered, even within the family.
Anya and I don’t give a damn, but we have no illusions about the fact that sooner or later our parents will intervene to split us up.
We hadn’t spoken for days, and it was the first time this had happened since we had known each other.
I had avoided her rather conspicuously, even though I knew I would hurt her: but I was conscious in what I was doing.
Could Anya understand why I felt trapped, crushed by responsibility and the nature of my body? I wasn’t sure.
It was something I did not share with anyone around me, it marked a line between me and the rest of the world. It was something I had not chosen.
And yet, very deep down, I also felt elated, because it was an ancient and true characteristic, something from the past that seemed unable to return.
We sat in a secluded corner of the café, and Anya began blissfully sipping her chocolate and cream milkshake.
“Excuse me.”
Silence
“I really didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I wanted to keep to myself.”
“Well, I had gotten this far. Now do you want to tell me what happened to you?”
“I don’t know. I want to, I guess.. But I don’t know where to start.”
Anya was silent, waiting.
“I’m afraid that if I say it out loud, things … Become real. More real. I’m afraid that I’ll see everything change, even though in reality everything has already changed. But I can still pretend it hasn’t.”
Still silence.
Anya had devoured her milkshake.
And my own, I had just tasted it. I merely messed around in it with the straw, demolishing the inviting little mountain of cream covered with colored sprinkles. Anya took the glass from my hands.
“That’s enough now. I won’t let you torture this innocent milkshake any further. I’ll finish it if it’s so horrifying to you.”
“Did you listen to divine Rosaline’s message from the other night?”
“Sure, what a question. I mentally sent a heartfelt hug to that unfortunate creature who as a fertile is now literally owned by the government. Hopefully.. Never mind. There are worse fates. By the way, in two days it’s my turn to report for analysis at the Center..”
And I burst into tears.
Just like that, out of the blue.

The people around us all turned around, amazed and a little indignant. We ran out as fast as we could, just in time to see our virtual assistants intervene. They immediately spring into action in cases like these, when someone shows emotion or expresses overly explicit opinions, and it was not easy to convince them that I was just feeling very tired, and that Anya had made a slightly unfortunate joke and that was all. Before they disconnected, they let us know that they would still have to report the incident, and that assessments would be made as to whether or not to scale “Good Civilization Points”.
However, aside from my embarrassment at all the attention it had generated and the possible (certain) punishment, I was relieved.
I wouldn’t have to explain a damn thing, because I could tell from the look on her face that Anya knew, she understood.
Here. I was on the other side, and it hadn’t been so painful.
“Oh, Lene.. I understand. I mean, no. I don’t understand. But I’m here if you want..”

“I know I should feel proud, but now I just feel..”
“It’s okay.”
“I’ve always liked the idea of being different from others, but I’ve never understood what it really meant to be…”

I stared at my toes.
I also had to get back to work.
With Anya, we agreed to meet later, go have something to eat together and talk some more.

It’s the middle of the night, but I just can’t sleep.




I absolutely had to put everything in writing, I am still too agitated by what happened tonight!
As planned, Anya waited patiently outside the Artificial Fertilization Center.
We headed to the Pillow Talker, a place that costs 60 “Good Civilization Points” but allows up to an hour without intrusion by virtual assistants.

Not that you can talk about any subject anyway, but so be it.
Overly frequent patrons get into trouble, but that was not our case. It was a place we had frequented maybe once or twice.
We ordered synthetically sourced sushi, decidedly unappetizing, but with the hunger I had I would have eaten far worse.
We chose the most secluded spot in the place, for no real reason: the Pillow was empty, which is unusual. The patrons are usually young, which is why the food is so cheap and the ambiance casual and spartan.
I hadn’t even sat down on the stool yet, that Anya was already pressing me:
“I can understand how strange you feel, I think. It’s horrible, let’s face it. Now you’re going to be forced to undergo constant hormone therapies, oocytes collection…. To testing.. And who knows what else..”
“The strangest thing is that somehow..This makes me so happy.”
She squinted his eyes.
“Have you ever thought about the woman who gave birth to you?About who she was. About what it means to be able to feel another being growing in your belly.” Anya looked anxious. I could tell she didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking.
I had found my voice and the will to use it, though, and I continued:
“I have always thought about it often. And now, I discovered something about me that was also hers. It is a bond that cannot be broken in any way, you see. The divine Rosaline cannot know what it means. For all intents and purposes I am what long ago was identified as ‘woman’… Today we only look like women or men, but we are no different in anything, so much so that we no longer need each other.”

“And do you like the idea of instead being someone who might need someone else?”

The tone was a little disgusted.
I hadn’t really thought it through at all; the words had slipped out easily, almost in a stream of consciousness.
“Listen, Lene, my guess is you’re just on a roll. Clearly this thing has shocked you, and your mind is just trying to make sense of it all, something that won’t cause you too much pain.”
“Maybe.”
“That’s it, trust me. Let it out if you need to, but then let these thoughts go. There is nothing good in them. Motherhood, biology… Love.. They were forms of slavery, it seems obvious to me. Think of all those poor surrogates, who died because they were so attached to their children, unable to understand that they represented only a necessary continuation of the species.. What kind of life is that.”
What if life also included pain, and loss.
I just thought that.
We ate in silence, but in my head the thoughts chased each other relentlessly. Anya was my friend, but she would not help me name – or make sense of – my impatience.
But I knew someone who could.
“Do you remember Masao Pedersen?”
“The crazy guy who got kicked out of school and they don’t kick him out of Alma Mater just because he’s a fucking dangerous genius? Who can forget that?”
“I want to go talk to him.”
“You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“They cannot condemn us if we want to delve into a subject like the history of biology, especially since I am now in total government service. Pedersen had followed almost all surrogates in their pregnancies, he was among those who invented and refined mechanical wombs and the controlled use of chimeras. You said it, he’s a freaking genius. Maybe too much for school, but this is extracurricular research.”
Anya sighed, uncomfortable.
“Only this time. Never again.”
“Once will be more than enough.”

Pedersen lived a little outside the center, isolated even from the luxurious living areas of government employees and former government employees.
He lived in a modest little house, almost smothered by the giant conifers of the forest where she was hiding. I remembered it, because I had accompanied my mother when, with a large group of Council members, she had come to present him with the award “For Merit of Good Citizen”, an honor given to those distinguished for their self-sacrifice in the cause of modern civilization.

At the time, Pedersen was already very old and had long since retired from public life and all activities. I also knew that the Council could hardly stand him, for several times he had questioned the methods once used with surrogates, and the government’s use of his other discoveries in more recent years.
He had never made any secret of his positions in school, which is why he was kicked out.
But everything I told you about surrogate mothers and their fate, we learned from him.
When we knocked on his door, I still did not know how I was going to baste the talk.

He opened it immediately, as if he was waiting for us.

He was a tiny little man, very old, but with a friendly and hospitable smile.
Mr. Masao did not remember us, but he was no less kind.
He led the way for us through the little house cluttered with real old books, test tubes and broken-down machinery, and poured us two excellent cups of tea. Thus served, we took a seat in the small sitting room, curiously empty except for the old sofa, and he questioned us as to why we were there.
“Surely you heard last week’s dispatch about the discovery of healthy female gametes? Well, the carrier is me.”
“Oh” Masao did a little jump on the pillows and almost dropped his glasses: “Wonderful, wonderful! A difficult fate awaits you, but certain glory…. Of course, you are so young..”
“Yeah. I inherited this trait from my biological mother, didn’t I?”
“Of course you must have inherited some of the genetics of both of yours.. Let’s say.. ‘Parents’.. But the fertility and viability of gametes also have to do with other factors..Environmental..The medical treatments that are used..Many things..”
“You have known all the women in service as surrogates, haven’t you?”
Anya leapt to her feet and blurted out:
“That’s enough, really, I don’t want to get in trouble for your curiosity!”
“Rest assured, my house is isolated by a magnetic field that confuses the signals…. The assistants can’t hear you. And I would kindly ask you not to mention this to anyone, thank you.”
Pedersen gave a chuckle
“Anya, sit down, it’s just this once.”
She did not sit down. She took refuge in a corner of the room, staring grimly at us. Pedersen returned to look at me, deeply.
“Back to us..I knew most of them very well. Child, if you want to trace that woman and you think I can help you, you are very wrong. And not because it is impossible to trace her identity, but for both of our sakes. Assuming and not assuming that poor woman is still alive, then. Besides, what do you think she can use it for?”
“I feel that this thing, what I am, binds me to her…. I could be a mother someday, just like she was.”
“And like billions of other human females of the past.”
“But that one alone gave birth to me”
There was a silence broken only by Anya’s irate bellowing.
The old man slowly approached and sympathetically laid a small hand on my shoulder:
“I need time to reflect on the matter. In any case, you can visit me whenever you want to, without fail. I will find a way to help you, but I do not assure you that it will be what you expected of me. Now go home and sleep, or you will feel like two rags at school tomorrow.”