Orphan of Creation (38 page)

“How can you point to a man’s soul?” Grossington demanded.

“You can’t. But before you tell me it won’t matter if her kind are treated like soulless, expendable robots for our dangerous work and experiments, first you prove to me she doesn’t have a soul. She might not be a human being, but I
know
she’s got a soul.”

“Come on, Barb,” Rupert asked. “How do you know? Have you touched it?”

“No, but it’s touched me,” Barbara snapped. “I know she’s got a kind heart, know she can love, and talk, and break the rules and try to get away with it. I know she loves me, trusts me. Trusted me when I promised her she’d never be a slave. She’s been a slave all her life, no question about it, and she’s just beginning to learn how to be free. I wasn’t going to let her turn back to slavery.”

“So you made her a mother, instead,” Rupert said.

“If we can breed together, then we are the same kind of creature. That’s the definition of a species,” Livingston said quietly. “And we then have the choice between saying that we are animals or that the boiseans are human. Neither choice is terribly pretty, but I think I’d like to go on being human. If there are consequences to that, okay, I’ll pay the price. Let justice be done, though the heavens fall.”

Barbara looked her cousin in the eye and smiled sadly. “Thank you, Liv.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll accept Thursday as human only if it’s a choice between that and my being an animal. But never mind that for the moment. Tell me something else: Why? Why did you do it?”

“Because there wasn’t any other way,” she said, her eyes passionate and sorrowful. “There was no other way to show
people
—not just scientists and molecular anthropologists and DNA mappers, but
people
—that she is like us.”

“But you don’t know that she is!” Rupert said. “She got pregnant, yes, but is that a baby or a monster growing inside her?”

“There have been other interbreedings,” Barbara said defensively.

“In Thursday’s genetic background there is evidence of interbreeding, yes,” Livingston said. “But there could have been thousands of attempts for every success—and the last attempt might have been thousands of years ago. We don’t know. On the other hand, subsequent generations of the hybrid
did
manage to breed back into the australopithecine line, we know that much. The offspring survived and had descendants. If they hadn’t, their DNA wouldn’t show up in Thursday’s genes. Will this kid survive? It’s a crapshoot. As to what the child will be like—there is absolutely no way of knowing. But there is a very good chance that, if it is allowed to be born, it will lead a misshapen, deformed existence. It won’t be ‘normal,’ that’s for sure.”

“That child is going to be born,” Barbara said. “No one is going to prevent it. If I have to, I’ll take Thursday away, hide her until it’s her time. You’ll
have
to lock me up to stop me.” Her voice faltered for a moment, then grew stronger. “I know this is wrong. I know it’s a violation—of Thursday, of myself, of—of ‘decency,’ for want of a better word. But I’m not going to be the woman who brought back slavery, and worse!”

Rupert turned and stared out the window. “So what you’re saying is that we’ve got a choice,” he said. “There’s no doubt that we’re going to bring an abomination into the world—the question is, which one? Is it going to be dehumanizing slavery and hatred—or one little hybrid baby? Good or bad, we don’t know what kind of life the kid will have, or if it will live at all. It’s playing God the worst possible way. But the way you put it, Barb, committing the grave, terrible, criminal sin of letting the pregnancy continue is the best shot at keeping the whole world from getting much worse than it is already. I wish I could argue with that, but I can’t.”

Livingston shook his head. “Neither can I. But the kid—the child, the poor little baby. For that, for him, I’m sorry.”

Dr. Grossington had been listening, and thinking hard. “I see,” he said. “I think I begin to see. What you’ve done is mad, insane, perverted, Barbara—but I’m starting to wonder if there were anything else you
could
have done.” He cleared his throat and thought a minute more. “But if this strange little birth is to have the desired effect—if it is to have the shock value to stop exploitation of the boiseans, it will have to have maximum publicity. First, though, we’ll have to keep it quiet while some ground is prepared. The people will have to be educated, got ready for the news. Public revulsion is going to be strong anyway. If Thursday
is
to be a mother, instead of being burned at the stake, it’ll take some extremely careful planning and maneuvering.”

“It’ll be tricky,” Rupert agreed. “I can’t believe I’m going along with this—but given what Barbara had said, what choice do we have? But, anyway—we four can just about accept it—after all, we know Thursday. But will the world accept it?”

<>

Somewhere in the long night of talk, they worked out a plan, went from opposing the pregnancy to discussing its merits to scheming how to make it work. They would wait until the molecular anthro paper was released, so that the public would at least understand that crossbreeding was possible. That might make the shock acceptable. Maybe wait until Lowell was back from Gabon, and had his colony of australopithecines well established in Massachusetts. With luck there would be some protests of that, and maybe a sympathetic backlash. They knew they could not rush the announcement. They would have to wait until the moment seemed right. They went home that night with what seemed a reasonable plan for releasing the information at a time and in a way the world might accept.

Except that two days later, Michael filed suit in Federal Court to have the pregnancy terminated.

<>

MAN-BOISEAN

PREGNANCY REVEALED

(AP) The australopithecine brought back from Africa is pregnant by human sperm. This shocking development was revealed by Dr. Michael Marchando, estranged husband of Dr. Barbara Marchando. He brought suit against his wife, claiming she used his sperm to impregnate Thursday, the famous so-called “boisean” brought back from Gabon.

A source in the Smithsonian Institution confirmed that Thursday was indeed pregnant, and that recent research indicated that impregnation by human sperm should be possible for boiseans.

Barbara Marchando, who resigned her post with the Smithsonian Institution this morning, did not deny the accusation, but stated flatly that she would fight the suit and do all she could to let the pregnancy continue. . . .

<>

Barbara was astonished how at easy it was to explain to Thursday that she was going to have a baby. It was a lovely, early spring day, and the two of them were walking the grounds of the hospital again. It had only been a day or so since the news had come out, but already none of the researchers at Saint E’s, none of her one-time coworkers, wanted to talk to her, or deal with her. That didn’t matter, either, as long as she could see Thursday. Although Barbara had quit her job to spare the Smithsonian any further embarrassment, she was still allowed on the grounds of Saint Elizabeth’s—for the moment, anyway. There were more than a few who thought she ought to take up residence there permanently. Maybe they were right. Never mind.

She had lost her job, her husband, her career, and nearly all her friends. Maybe they’d find some way to put her in jail. It didn’t matter. Nothing did, except Thursday’s child. She took Thursday’s hand and led her to that same park bench they had sat on before.

“
Thursday know what is in Thursday?”
Barbara asked, patting her friend’s stomach.

“
No
,” Thursday replied.

“
Baby grow there. Baby grow, you will be mother.”

“
Mother? Mother, with baby?
” Thursday asked eagerly. Her signing was getting better all the time, more expressive and precise, and her use of words was more sophisticated—though she seemed to have reached some sort of capacity limit on learning new words.

“
You be mother, with baby
,” Barbara assured her. “
But long time from now, must wait long for baby to grow inside.
”

“
Happy! Like baby. Want baby come!
”

“Baby come, but not soon.
”

“
What baby be like
?” Thursday asked eagerly.

“
I don’t know
,” Barbara replied truthfully. What sort of creature were they conspiring to bring into the world? A monster? Some genetic disaster that would die before it could be born? A healthy baby that would simply look and act a little strange? What sort of life could it lead? Barbara had wondered all those things when she had plunged in the injector full of sperm, but the mysteries, the moral ambiguities, weren’t getting any clearer.

Now there was little else to do but wait.

Summer

Chapter Twenty-Four

[Excerpt from an article in the June 26 Washington Post “Outlook” section]

. . . . The legal maneuvering in this case has gone on for some months now. Dr. Michael Marchando’s suit to have the pregnancy terminated lost on its final appeal on Friday. The judge ruled that, under the terms of his agreement with the hospital fertility clinic, Marchando had surrendered the rights to control the use of any of his sperm stored by the clinic, and further that there was no existing civil or criminal law against the acts Dr. Barbara Marchando committed, other than forgery of the prescription, and the theft of the sperm and the hospital equipment she used to perform the insemination procedure. She pled guilty to that crime and received a suspended sentence.

Now free of the Marchando vs. Marchando suit and the attendant temporary restraining orders, it would seem that authorities can confront the question of what to do about this strange pregnancy directly. But no one seems eager to tackle the question. Various interpretations of one issue or another in the case could be made, assigning jurisdiction to the Fish and Wildlife Service, the Customs Service, the Immigration and Naturalization Service, the State Department, the FBI, or even the U.S. Civil Rights Commission. There are also several District of Columbia government agencies that could be involved. But no one seems to want to be the one to decide if the pregnancy should be allowed to continue.

Even if a federal or local bureaucrat decided to try and terminate the pregnancy, there are a few legal problems in the way. Federal funding of abortions is of course illegal, and Thursday is presumed to be under Federal jurisdiction, even if the specific agency can’t be identified. She is at a federally funded institution, was imported to this country by government scientists and government aircraft, and has been fed, housed, cared for and studied with federal funds.

A second problem: Thursday is past the first trimester of her pregnancy, and therefore, past the time when most clinics and doctors are willing to perform an abortion, although terminations are legal in the District until the twenty-first week, which in this case would be about July 15. Further complicating the issue is the fact that Thursday has clearly indicated she knows she is pregnant and that she wants the baby. All indications are that the fetus is developing normally—whatever ‘normally’ might mean in this situation.

In such a case, and assuming she is regarded as a person with rights under the law, it is virtually impossible, from a legal standpoint, to compel her to have an abortion, and by the time the legal issues could be resolved, the 21-week deadline would certainly have passed.

If she is an animal, of course, her rights or wishes do not have to be consulted, and there seem to be no pertinent statutes regulating abortions for animals.

At issue, then: is she a human or an animal? This question was being argued long before her pregnancy was discovered, but the changed and unique circumstances give them renewed urgency and focus.

Since no agency of government wants to take on this case, many expect that the pregnancy will be allowed to come to term. No one can decide what to do—and that temporizing will likely continue until the point is moot, and Thursday’s child is born. . . .

JULY 5

A BILL establishing the legal rights and status of australopithecine persons in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

1. All australopithecine persons resident in the Commonwealth on the date this bill becomes law shall be declared wards of the Commonwealth, and legal guardians shall be appointed by the Governor for their protection.

2. The further importation or introduction of australopithecine persons into the Commonwealth, save for temporary importation of such persons in need of humanitarian or medical assistance, is hereby banned. The secretary of State is hereby authorized to issue licenses for such temporary importations. During such temporary importations, such persons shall be temporary wards of the Commonwealth.

3. No australopithecine person who is a ward of the Commonwealth shall be confined against his or her will without due legal process, or otherwise be denied due process, or be the subject of medical or other sorts of experimentation . . .

JULY 20

[Statement from the President’s Office, Republic of Gabon—translation from original French]

It has been determined that the individuals known variously as tranka, boiseans, australopithecines or Australopithecus boisei have been illegally held in a state of servitude by the tribe of the Utaani, and further determined that any additional removal of these individuals from the Republic of Gabon would constitute kidnapping. The australopithecines liberated from the Utaani by the government last week are hereby declared an endangered species and displaced persons. Pending further determination, they will be under the joint care and protection of the Gabonese government, UNESCO, and the World Wildlife Fund. . .

SEPTEMBER 4

[Excerpt from an interview with Dr. Rupert Maxwell, 60 Minutes]

. . .Question: But isn’t there a danger that the child will, for example, grow a human-sized brain inside a boisean-sized skull?

Dr. Maxwell: That is a far less likely outcome than you would expect. There isn’t one gene for brain size and another for skull size. There is instead a whole suite of genetic coding that works in concert to develop whole systems of the body. In this case, there is a lot of evidence that the skull is stimulated to grow by the shape of the underlying brain. It’s like Abe Lincoln’s joke that a man should be tall enough so his feet touch the ground. It’s not the skull that decides the shape of the brain, but more the other way around.

Question: So you anticipate a normal, healthy child being born? No problems?

Dr. Maxwell: Healthy, yes, but not normal. Actually, below the head, the body-plans of the two subspecies are so similar the kid should look normal—if a little stronger and hairier than most. The one thing I’m worried about is the teeth.

Question: The teeth?

Dr. Maxwell: Have you ever gotten a look at the back teeth on an australopithecine? Crossbreeding between them and human teeth might well be trickier than getting the brain right. This kid is probably going to run up some real orthodontist bills.

SEPTEMBER 26

Barbara shifted uncomfortably on the hard chair and tidied up her notes again. She should have been used to this by now, but public speaking always made her nervous. Testifying before a congressional subcommittee was even worse. She took a sip of water and waited.

The chairman finally arrived, gaveled the committee into session, and went through the usual opening formalities. Barbara didn’t listen, not really. After months of being trotted out before every public forum in the country, she had learned what she could safely tune out.

“Dr. Marchando, are you ready to begin?” the chairman asked.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Chairman, thank you, and thanks to the committee for inviting me.”

She swallowed again and picked up her notes. “What seemed unimaginable a year ago, and unthinkable a few months ago, has now not only happened, but, in large part, been accepted by the American people. There are still some months before the main event, but Thursday’s pregnancy is progressing well, and every day we have more reason to be hopeful about the outcome.

“There are, quite understandably, a lot of people who still vehemently resist the idea that we could interbreed with a lesser kind. But that is a misconception. This pregnancy shows she is
our
kind, by all the rules of science and common sense.
Australopithecus boisei
must be considered a subspecies of our race. It was to demonstrate that fact that I took the actions I did, and accepted the consequences of that act. As the committee is aware, my legal expenses have been large, and the disruption of my life significant. None of that matters. Proving Thursday to be human is more important.

“Thursday bears a human’s child, and I am certain will bring it to term. Therefore, Thursday must be human. But even if the child is born malformed, as now seems unlikely, or is stillborn, an even more remote possibility, it must be clear that are dealing with a close relation. We must look into her face and see our own. She is a less intelligent, less cultural, less linguistic kind of human—but she
is
a human.

“We can no more send her off as a test animal than we could send off a mentally retarded child for vivisection, no more consider her a fit slave—and let us not mince words: slave is what she was, and what some would make her kind again under new and pretty euphemisms—we could no more consider her a fit slave than we could consider a Down’s syndrome victim proper fodder for the salt mines.

“I am pleased to note that many states have already passed laws banning the importation and exploitation of boiseans. This congressional committee is considering similar legislation, as are many foreign nations. The General Assembly of the United Nations is expected to consider the issue soon.” Barbara paused for a moment, and put her notes down.

“But there’s more to it than that. Thursday and her child have done more than merely get laws written. They have taught us something. Even the tiny genetic differences between her kind and ours result in great changes in behavior and ability. She
is
different from us, dramatically so. Surely that proves that all the races of
Homo sapiens sapiens
are exactly the same, that the differences in skin color, facial shape, hair texture and the rest are all completely meaningless.

“We have found our long-lost cousin. May the experience teach us that we are all brothers and sisters.”

<>

Big bellied, gravid, moving slowly, Thursday walked the now-familiar grounds of the hospital with her friend Barbara. Fall leaves were swirling about her feet, and the strangely shifting weather of this place was changing once more. She was getting cold again.

Barbara had warned her once again that the baby might be sick, or strange when it was born, or might grow up to be different from Thursday. That scared her a little, but not so much as it might have. Thursday was a fatalist.

Barbara had also told her about the others being set free from the Utaani, and told her it was because of her. She could not understand how that could be, but she was proud, nonetheless. But not so proud, she sensed, as a human might have been. It did not seem possible she could do such a grand thing.

Thursday couldn’t imagine being able to change the world.

Perhaps, thought Barbara, as she looked at her friend,
that
was the real difference between their two kinds.