by Piotr Ryczko
This pervaded the blogger’s mind. Would Marianne do everything to change that? Viola kept telling herself that she would.
One thing was certain, if this place had the technology necessary to help this desperate woman, she would have found it. Not only that, but she would have accepted any terms she was given. However absurd or expensive they were. Maybe the question was not if she was here, but how much Marianne was willing to accept, and what she was prepared to sacrifice in the process.
As Viola’s eyes scanned farther down the hall, she twisted her body around and crashed into a teenage boy in a wheelchair.
“Sorry, I was just about to... hmm.” She was about to apologise and continue her search, but when she locked gazes with him, she froze in astonishment.
The boy’s eyes were burning red, and the rest of his gaunt, contorted body had a malnourished cast to it. An albino. His hands pushed with quivering jerks at his wheels with what seemed like a huge effort. Viola immediately noticed that this struggle did not only exhaust him but also maddened him beyond reproach. His mouth skewed in a spitting posture, pissed off at his own feebleness and inadequacy.
As he noticed her, he ground to a halt, then inspected her with his tiny swinish pupils. Suddenly he made a poking gesture at something on her body.
At first, her mind and body refused to listen to her. Her reactions seemed caught in some alternate timeline, transfixed by his gaze. She had to pinch herself to react.
Viola’s eyes ran up her own body, only to realise her compass necklace had opened up. And the contents were now in plain sight. Her gut clenched in panic as she scrambled to clasp the necklace shut.
But when she glanced back at the boy, she realised the hallway was now empty.
Chapter 16
Magda raced down the corridor towards Viola and Ronny. With a burning urgency written all over her face, she barely collected her breath before she spat out the words.
“Miss Voss! It’s of utmost importance we speak. Immediately!” Magda addressed Viola only. Hearing this, Ronny’s face flushed. Magda noticed the intrusion and a barely visible grimace crossed her face, but this woman knew better than to be impolite.
“This is too sensitive. Family only, I am afraid,” she explained.
Viola’s back straightened at this remark. If she had a family now, no one qualified more than this man. There was no one else she could depend on more. Ronny’s words were never empty, and always followed by action.
“He is family... practically.” Viola pressed the words intensely between her tongue. Enough so Magda would see how important this was for her.
“Technically, no. Sorry. House rules. It’s not for me, but for our customer’s privacy,” Magda whispered with an underlying apologetic tone.
“Privacy! Lady! Are we talking about the same place here? Have you seen your Producing Room, with cum splattered all over the floor? Or your waiting room with your receptionist yelling out names all over the place? Is that your idea of privacy?” Ronny unloaded on Magda, but before he could continue, Viola interrupted him with pleading eyes. He exchanged glances with her, and wanted to barge on.
“Ron. Calm down. Magda’s concern is legitimate. Apologise, please?” Viola whispered to him, but even before she voiced it, she hated herself for doing this.
This time he stopped, bent under Viola’s request, and almost broke. But the requested apology was too much for his crushed pride to bear.
Viola saw it in his eyes, a hurt she had never noticed before. She realised she needed to take the words back. But the damage had been done, and disappointment already coursed through Ronny’s veins.
When she asked him to accompany her, it was done for two reasons. A couple burdened by infertility made the whole IVF paperwork process quicker, less painful to get through at most clinics. But even more so, her choice to bring him along was that she would feel safer with Ronny nearby, aware of what was going on with her at any given time. And all of this seemed good at first. Reasonable. Except right now, the very same thinking had landed her in this tight corner, with her mitochondrial disease diagnosis which might be exposed at any moment. Right in front of Ronny.
She noticed as he backed off, his gnawing aggression was now subdued below the surface with force.
Late afternoon
Viola glanced over the doctor’s shoulder as she attempted to get a better peek at the computer screens the woman was initiating.
Viola expected Magda would tell her about her mitochondrial disease. But what surprised her was the absence of a whole team of specialists. A neonatologist, a genetic counsellor, not to mention a psychologist – they would all be present with such a serious diagnosis
But instead, Viola faced only Magda.
To make the matter even more unnerving, Magda’s professional barrier had melted away. The plastic sales pitches had been dispensed with, replaced by a Magda who simply cared.
But even if this clinic’s methods caught her off guard, she realised she still had to keep up the act.
“I don’t get it. You are telling me I have a rare genetic disease? And it’s incurable?” Viola said. And Magda was more than willing to accept her act. So, Viola continued to go through all the motions.
“Patience, my dear,” Magda whispered, then swiped her mouse and initiated a simulation titled: Viola Voss X453 – Mitochondrial disease.
“Every doctor on this planet would say that your condition is incurable with today’s science,” Magda continued.
Meanwhile, Viola tried her best to focus on her goal. How could she get Magda to talk?
“But you don’t?” Viola prodded.
“I am not every doctor,” Magda scoffed.
“How can you help?” Viola implored. But as Magda peered into her eyes, Viola could sense the hesitation.
“Would you care to stay here for one more day? Run more tests?” Magda said.
“Come on, Doctor. This is my body. I need to trust you. How exactly can you help me?” Viola prodded even harder.
The older woman smirked at Viola’s demands. Both knew Viola had some hefty leverage.
Magda moved her mouse and fired up an application named Real Time Human Embryo Simulator.
The whole screen lit up with binary fireworks as Magda pointed at the screen, and text drifted lazily onto it.
Initiating DNA chain scan – Scan confirmed – Sampling the DNA genome database. Growing embryological database, appeared on one of the screens.
“This simulation is sampled directly from your DNA. It shows us exactly what would happen if you performed the incision and removal of the gene causing the mitochondrial disease,” Magda continued, giving out the clinical information, but for every word Viola heard, she was even more assured that Magda wasn’t speaking about some random technology. She spoke about her own brain-child, something kindled by a life-long passion.
“Simulation initiated. GENE THERAPY X3235, CRISPR DNA incision initiated. Growing embryological database. Starting simulation.”
On the screen an embryo coalesced into view, and began to grow at staggering speeds. Magda gestured at the screen and let the embryo unfold in a seven hundred-fold time-lapse. In just mere seconds, it blossomed into a living and breathing form.
And as it cried out for the first time at birth, it opened its eyes. Then continued to structure, grow, and undulate into a digital dance of life.
Finally, Viola peered into a set of eyes. She felt as if someone had gutted her open.
It was a child. Something alive. Or maybe true to life.
Despite its awakened state, she kept telling herself this was bits and bytes. Despite the perfection, this was just binary code. But why did she feel so shaken? It couldn’t be because of the simulation.
And then she staggered back as she realised the obvious. Her mind had seemingly locked off that possibility. But as the boy’s tiny face turned towards her, a flash of recognition passed through her.
Some primal instinct told her to run. But the only
thing she managed was to barely shuffle her feet.
She realised she was looking into the eyes of something that resembled her son.
Her eyes couldn’t cope with what was in front of her.
For the first time in three years, she stood right in front of the opening to some chasm. This was the place she had thrown away the key to. For good. But here she stood, and there was the opening. And it was ready to swallow her.
“Off! Turn this off! Now,” she mumbled as tears blurred her vision.
Magda closed the app. Blackness followed.
Chapter 17
Evening
She felt worn like an old rag. Her stomach twisted in convulsions, and she shivered and sweated alternately. For the last thirty minutes, she had shuffled around the clinic’s wards and attempted to get her bearings.
She was prepared for the neonatologist to inform her of the different set of potential treatments available to her. She was also prepared to be advised about the preimplantation technique and how they function. And she would have expected some information from the geneticist, who was supposed to paint a realistic picture of the probability of the mitochondrial disease’s occurrence in her case.
The simulation was something she never would have expected, and it pulled at her heartstrings in a way she never could have prepared for. It forced her into making an immediate decision, the only right decision. Or at least, that’s what the simulation had led her to believe.
But this medical institution’s unethical pressure on its clients wasn’t the biggest jolt for her. After all, Viola had seen from the first moment what kind of place this was. Instead, what made her throat feel dried up and useless was another realisation. For the last five years, she had done everything to put the past behind her. In her case, the erase button turned out to be the most painful thing she had ever performed. On herself.
She had thrown out every single belonging, every piece of clothing, anything that could and would remind her of Markus. It was not just a purification process, but an exorcism of evil. An occult rite to get her life back on track.
But even this was not sufficient. There was still one more thing she had no control over. One more thing she could cut loose. So she ripped off the ties to the people who connected her to Markus. This was certainly the most painful of all her actions, but also the one that was the most necessary.
As she looked into this simulation’s eyes, the boy’s eyes that were so remarkably like Markus’s, she realised it had all been for nothing. The pain remained, ingrained in her more than ever. And it took only a moment, a single glance at an artificial image, to scorch her mind with Markus.
Maybe she was expecting way too much of herself? Doing things that continued to tear her apart? On the one hand, she was trying to lay the past behind herself, to erase Markus from her life, but on the other hand, she was trying to find Marianne. Wasn’t she like a quivering junkie, fighting for her life in rehab, and was now being dealt out freebie shots?
And just when she felt she was lost in the corridors, a pair of familiar eyes appeared.
Ronny reached out his hand.
Late evening
She hated every drop of the juice, but she continued to sip it. It was at least something to grab onto, to keep her hands busy. Her eyes focused on anything, as long as it wasn’t Ronny’s gaze. She knew better than to implore his eyes. Not with the news she had to share with him soon.
They faced each other in the canteen. Things had been like that for the last hour. Their conversation at a standstill.
She always felt as if he had developed a sixth sense about her moods and unspoken wishes. Especially to keep the necessary silence. She was grateful he hadn’t pushed her for the last half an hour, but as she finally met his gaze, it was plain to see that his patience was shredded to bits. His eyes were pleading for some kind of explanation.
And what could she expect? She had dragged him here against his will, used him for her own goals, even humiliated him in front of Magda, then abandoned him.
“I tried my best to get anything out of her. But no... my best shot is to stay here one more day.” She uttered the words, but they were riddled with anxiety, anticipating his reaction. He returned her gaze calmly.
“If I fight you on this, will it make any difference?” he said.
But his eyes drew to the envelope that lay beside her. She had forgotten about it. The test results, given to her by Magda.
“Can I look at them?” he asked.
Her throat felt as if it had been wrung inside out. She eyed the envelope and realised her lies rested inside.
She had gone over this a thousand times, at least in her head. About voicing the truth to Ronny about her condition. But this was not how she imagined it. Not the moment, not the place, and certainly not the circumstances. As panic began to flood her mind, and she grasped at simple words, anything that would make some sense.
“They are okay... okay,” she blurted out.
“Something wrong with them?” He eyed her quizzically. She responded with forced laughter.
She slid the envelope over to him. Exposing herself. She knew their relationship was as solid as she could wish for. But certain things were not meant to be forgiven. And this was to be one of them.
Ronny held the envelope. But then hesitated. There was something else going on. It wasn’t the suspicion. It was something else, maybe more personal than she imagined at first. Ronny swallowed hard on some fleeting thoughts.
“My mum. She fell ill and was taken to the hospital. Pneumonia. You know. Nothing serious. Out in two weeks. But she never made it past the first week. Stage 4 cancer. I never learned the truth. Until the last moment, that is.” He whispered the words and never met her eyes. For a moment he tensed, then just slid the envelope back to her.
As she heard his words, the ice inside her melted. He had never spoken with such intimacy. Never shared this much of himself. She knew his mum had passed away some time ago but she had told herself she wouldn’t push him for the circumstances.
“Why didn’t you share this with me?” Viola said.
“You serious? And this is coming from Miss Transparency, huh?” he said.
His words stung her but also brought on a moment of lucidity. She had always said she would respect his boundaries and aloofness. And now, as her eyes moistened, it struck her. There might be another reason for this wall between them. Maybe he had never built it. Maybe he had only reacted to her own emotional retreat. Her impregnable defences.
A reflex.
As usual, she just saw the whole thing inside out in a distorted mirror that was her own self.
“I am sorry.” Was the only thing she could whisper back. She leaned into him, hugged him, and she heard him utter through a runny nose.
“Go find her.”
Chapter 18
Ronny jumped into the car beside Pål. The cop was hunched at his laptop, logged onto his surveillance app, attempting to avoid calling attention to himself and people passing by.
His expression was laser-focused on the task at hand, but Ronny figured it was a good thing. He wasn’t prepared to do any talking. He was hoping the cop felt exactly the same way.
Then Pål eyed Ronny, while still listening in.
“You love her, don’t you?” he whispered.
Ronny heaved an almost silent sigh. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Ronny wasn’t about to share intimate details with this guy. He threw him a look, suggesting the headphones would be a far better option. But this didn’t hit home. On the contrary, Ronny immediately noticed that it piqued Pål’s interest even more. The cop wasn’t about to leave it alone.
“You know what, Pål? I’ve always thought of myself as a stable, regular guy. One with a solid enough character, good income, and a not too shabby future. I was alone, unattached, doing just fine on my own. I wasn’t looking for anyone either. Things were great. No. Not great. They were amazing! Well, that was until about two years ago. But then,
I stumbled upon this woman. The moment I met her, I realised a gunshot to the head would probably be better for me. She made a fuss about the stupidest things. If there was anything to quarrel about, she would dig that up and use it against you. She would always want to win an argument; after all, she was superior, intellectually, spiritually, ethically, and whatnot. And the arguments that were the most victorious for her, were the ones when she knew she was wrong. Oh! She loved those. She was a mess, if you ask me. A walking disaster area. Sometimes I sat down and decided to find a redeeming quality about her, something that would logically explain any of this. Our relationship.” He paused for a breather and checked Pål. The cop stared at him, transfixed.
“And you know what? There wasn’t one single thing. Nothing positive came to my mind. I mean, this is the person who will remember all your mistakes, and remind you of them. At the worst possible moment. This is the woman who never listens to reason, because she thinks she has the patent to the only moral compass in existence. The list goes on and on. Do you want more?” Ronny finished with barely any breath left. He was never the one to talk. Actually, he hated talking. But if it meant Pål would shut up, it would be worth it.
The cop was left with an unanswered question.
“I... I just don’t get it. So why... you know, why are you with her in the first place?” He prodded Ronny carefully, as if he was afraid to reveal what impact Ronny’s story had on him.
“Because against all reason, the sheer scale of our incompatibility, and the overwhelming odds, I can’t be without her. And you know what the best part is? I have no idea why that is,” Ronny whispered.
Pål wanted to say something but finally just shook his head, then scrambled to put his headphones back on as quickly as he could.