Twin-Bred

by Karen A. Wyle

  Until that sight became far less common.

  * SECRET *

  CLEARANCE CLASS 2 AND ABOVE*

  LEVI Status Report, 8-1-71

  Executive Summary

  Gestational Schedule Status

  Human host pregnancies (successful): First Group are at 32 weeks gestation; Second Group at 26 weeks; Third Group at 20 weeks; Fourth Group at 14 weeks.

  Unsuccessful and Otherwise Problematic Outcomes to Date

  Human Host Pregnancies

  The percentage of unsuccessful human host pregnancies has dropped with each successive group, as the technical teams examine previous results and refine their techniques accordingly.

  To date, there have been four spontaneous abortions of human embryos/fetuses and six spontaneous abortions of Tofa embryos/fetuses in human host pregnancies. In two of these cases, both twins were aborted. This leaves, to date, four human singletons and two Tofa singletons total in these three groups. These subjects, together with those surviving the events described in the next section, will potentially be subject to some unpredictable variant(s) of “lost twin” syndrome.

  Some psychological impact on host mothers with unsuccessful pregnancies was expected, particularly for any host mothers who bore and lost a genetically related embryo/fetus. However, those human host mothers who lost a Tofa embryo or fetus appear to have suffered more distress than anticipated, given the lack of genetic relationship and the disparity of species. Treatment efforts are ongoing.

  Tofa Host Pregnancies

  At the request of the Tofa, these pregnancies were begun simultaneously and are now at 25 weeks gestation.

  One Tofa host mother suffered what appeared to be a variant of toxic shock at Week 3 of her pregnancy. The Project team attempted medical intervention to save the embryos, but was prevented by other Tofa host mothers present at the scene. Neither the mother nor the embryos survived.

  Within the last week, all but two of the remaining Tofa host mothers have spontaneously aborted the Tofa fetuses. The human fetuses are gestating within expected parameters. . . .

  “What have I done, Levi? What the hell have I done! All those children. . . .”

  “What you’ve done is tried to save this planet from generations of conflict, or climactic catastrophe. During which twins would lose twins, and children would lose parents, and parents would lose children.”

  “And these babies now are the tools, and tools get broken, and that’s just how it goes. I can’t stand this.”

  “You can, Mara. You will. You’d better. Unless you think that those children — all of them — would be better without you here, and caring.”

  Dr. Tanner’s secretary took the call, and quickly put it through.

  “Mara, I was concerned to get your call between our scheduled sessions. Is something going on that you find particularly difficult?”

  “Yes. Very difficult.”

  “Take your time. You’re pacing. Please sit down. As if you were in my office. That’s better. Please go on.”

  “The problem is that I can’t talk about it. I mean, what happened is confidential. But it’s something I should have foreseen. Or at least, I should have known it might happen. I of all people.”

  Dr. Tanner stroked downward with his hand, his usual way of telling her to slow down and to breathe. “Then let me do some deducing. Some detecting. You needn’t tell me if I get it right. Just tell me if I get it significantly wrong."

  Mara slumped down in her chair, suddenly exhausted. Dr. Tanner went on. “This project — you’re passionate about it. You care enough to uproot yourself, to commit yourself for a period of years, to attenuate what few human contacts you have managed to build. It seems likely there is some connection to the central trauma in your life.”

  Mara waited, clenching her hands together, trying to make herself breathe more slowly.

  “So this project either literally involves twins, or some other bond that speaks to you in a similar way. I would guess that its aims include healing, or the prevention of traumatic loss. And yet, on the way to that goal, there was a risk — a risk, I gather, that has been realized — of causing more loss, more trauma. So that now you say you should have focused on that initial risk, as well as on the goal.

  “Mara?”

  “You aren’t in your rocking chair.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your rocking chair. I guess it isn’t near your phone screen. I miss the sound of it. And your aroma sticks. I have quite a good sense of smell. I could smell them from where I sat. I liked your pipe tobacco.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh.”

  “You miss me.”

  “Yes.”

  Dr. Tanner leaned back in his office chair, making the springs creak. “Mara, did you ever tell your father about Levi? About how you kept him real to you, made him part of your life?”

  “No. And not just that — we never talked about him at all. About my having had a twin. Not the way I did with my mother, a couple of times.”

  “As I recall, you and your father did share some interests, and activities related to them.”

  “He was a biochemist. He would come home and tell me about things he’d learned, things he was working on. His excitement made them exciting. When I was old enough, he’d take me to his lab, give me little projects to do, ask me what I thought about problems. I doubt I’d have become a scientist without him. And he was proud of me.”

  “Did you confide in him about more personal things? About friendships, social conflicts, romantic interests?" Dr. Tanner chuckled a little at Mara's expression. "Not the last, I see.”

  “Particularly not the last . . . but not much about any of it. I didn’t volunteer, and he didn’t ask.”

  “Would you agree that it’s no accident you chose a male therapist of your father's generation — and one who’s chosen to retain that appearance?”

  “I didn’t do it consciously. But I guess not. No accident. But why are we talking about this now?”

  “Now you’re asking for my trade secrets. But I will say, sometimes we all work by instinct. I’m following mine. And you seem less distressed than when you called.”

  “Yes. Doctor — the way you described my problem. The one you ‘detected.’ You seemed to be saying — you were reminding me. About the goal, that I had a goal, that I was trying to help, to make things better.”

  “That you were?”

  Mara took a long, deep breath, and then another. “That I am. I am.”

  Chapter 7

  * CONFIDENTIAL *

  CLEARANCE CLASS 3 AND ABOVE

  LEVI Status Report, 9-15-71

  Executive Summary

  Tofa Names

  The Tofa have supplied recordings of a number of individual designations (names) to be used for the Tofa twin subjects. It is not known whether these designations are common in Tofa society.

  Living Quarters

  The majority of the human host mothers are currently housed in dormitories within the main facility. Several, however, are housed in cottages nearby.

  Due to the difficulties in maintaining information security should many host mothers return to their places of origin following delivery, more commodious dormitories and additional separate dwellings are under construction.

  Housing assignments have depended on various factors, including the marital status of the host mother and the wishes of certain parties related to some participants. . . .

  Veda Seeling, daughter of Councilman Channing, offered her visitor tea. Nikki Roberts, daughter of Councilman Simpson, simpered and declined.

  “I know they say it’s all right — it is the bin-tan leaf, isn’t it? — but I want to be so careful.”

  And I didn’t even poison it, bitch, thought Veda. “How was your check-up?”

  “Oh, just marvelous. I insisted they show me the twins. One of them — the Tofa — was touching the other’s cheek! I teared up, I really did.”

  “Oh, I kno
w, isn’t it splendid? I thought I saw mine kissing last week, but the nurse wasn’t sure. I’m sure.”

  “And is the human twin a boy or a girl?”

  “I told them not to tell me. I want to keep the mystery. I’m just an old-fashioned girl, I guess.”

  Nikki didn’t quite hide her smirk. “It’s so nice that you can hold onto your old-fashioned values, even while you’re doing something so — unusual. But when so many people know — not just the tech, but all those medical people, and the people who write the reports, and the people who read the reports —”

  Veda sniffed. “I do not concern myself with those people. Of course I’m doing this to serve the community, and for the advancement of science — but I will not be distracted from my maternal experience by all those buzzing little officials and whatnot.”

  Nikki donned her most serious expression. “I consider it my duty to involve myself in the Project as much as I can. One never knows when one may be able to offer some helpful insights. . . . Doesn’t Brian want to know?” She glanced around at the elaborate vases, some glass, some metal, adorning the room. Most were empty; a few contained flowers, a bit past their prime. “You do at least talk to him regularly?”

  “Of course! Even though he’s so busy, we talk every night at least. He wishes so much that he could be here. And he’s going to be here when they arrive, no matter how much the Bureau needs him. I do miss him so. . . .”

  “I can see that, darling,” cooed Nikki, nodding at the steamy cover of the romance novel Veda had not sufficiently hidden. Veda blushed, then forced herself to think of glaciers. And knives.

  “At least you don’t have that problem, Nikki, with Nolan out of the picture. I’m sorry. There are so few chances for you to meet someone, out here. The staff are so busy — and they do tend to be stuffy, don’t they, about any personal entanglements? . . . but maybe when you’re — looking yourself again, it’ll be easier. . . .”

  The light glinted off the varnished hair sculpture as Nikki tossed her head. “I haven’t the time to worry about such things now, Veda. This is too important. I’ve been meditating, you know. I sit in the half-lotus position and commune with my babies. I picture them out there in the world, leading the way, bringing humans and Tofa together. I just flood them with positive energy. They’re going to know how proud I am of them, from the moment they’re born.”

  From the moment they’re born, Veda said to herself, she’ll have them out of her door and in a dormitory before I could spit. And a good thing for them. Not like me. I’m going to have mine right here, where I can make sure they learn what’s important. What, and who.

  The comfortable sofa and armchairs, the yellow and white checked curtains at the windows, the braided area rugs, were meant to be cozy, but Councilman Petter appeared immune to their effect. He sat rigidly upright on the sofa. “I thought we were clear on this. Of course you’ll report to me regularly. Do you think I care what agreements you’ve signed? Why do you think I let you do this?”

  Laura sipped her hot water and let him wind down. “You always see what you want to see, Daddy. I never said I’d be your ‘inside man’ — or woman. I would have done this no matter who you were. I’ve seen how little you and the others can do about the conflicts. Don’t growl, I’m not blaming any of you! I think it was wise and foresighted of you to realize the limits of what you could achieve with the usual diplomatic tools. Dr. Cadell has given you a chance, an opportunity, to keep us safe, and you’ll have a place in history for having the courage to try it.”

  Her father harrumphed. “That’s very kind, child. I wish we could trust everyone to take that view of it. The secrecy is an administrative strain. And I suppose it would be a bit awkward, sending me reports. Wouldn’t do to have you caught breaking the rules.”

  “We’ll talk when you visit me, of course. You will visit? And get to know the twins? Judy is really your grandchild, you know. Biologically. They used my ovum.”

  Councilman Petter’s eyes glistened. “You’re naming her after your mother. It’s a lovely thought. But — sweetheart, you’ll have to keep her human. As human as you can. I couldn’t bear it if . . . with your mother’s name . . . .”

  Laura came to him and gave him a hug. “I’ll wait a bit, until we see that the human babies are — well, that they’re all right. But you know, I can feel it. Don’t worry — she’ll be a human girl, a wonderful girl, one you can be proud of.”

  Petter wiped his eyes. “Like her mother.” He straightened up and visibly donned his Councilman persona again. “Yes, I’ll visit. Regularly. I want to know all the important things as they happen. No surprises.”

  He turned to don his coat and then turned back. “The Tofa baby. Do you have a name for it as well?”

  Laura took a deep breath. “I’d thought: La-ren.”

  “La-ren.” Petter cleared his throat. “Hmm. That’s rather like — yes.” He looked away. “Of course. As you think best.”

  “I do.”

  Mara left the staff meeting and considered heading straight to her quarters. A long day would only get longer if she went by her office, where who knows what problems might be waiting to ensnare her. She sighed. Yes, and those problems might grow more tentacles if she left them overnight. She trudged back to her office, sank into her chair and called up her messages.

  She rather expected to see one from Laura Hanson. Laura had been reporting in about once a week, either with some news from the host mother front lines, or with the welcome word that nothing needed discussing. Finding neither, Mara searched back and saw that it had been almost two weeks since Laura had made contact. She quickly scanned her other messages, forwarding a few to other staff for action or review; made a few notes on the most problematic items, and then called Laura. The recorded response sent her hurrying to the hospital wing.

  The charge nurse was reassuring. Some spotting, some cramps, other symptoms, all made bed rest a necessity, at least for a while, but everything was under control. Yes, the patient could have visitors. Yes, she had been awake a few minutes ago. By all means, go on in, Dr. Cadell.

  Mara knocked softly on the open door. Laura looked up and beamed. The warmth caught Mara by surprise. “Dr. Cadell! How nice of you! Please come in. I hope you haven’t been worried.”

  “I was. But they tell me you’re doing fine. How are you feeling?”

  “Bored. Relaxing is all very well, and I usually enjoy it, but this is ridiculous! And it’s quite a come-down from playing detective.”

  “You’re handling it better than I would. I find relaxing difficult, and bed rest would drive me to distraction in short order. Can I bring you anything to help pass the time?”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I have my tablet, and even some real books.” Laura gestured to a small pile at the bedside. “What I’d like — if it isn’t too much trouble, and please feel free to tell me it if is — is just a chance to sit and chat.”

  Mara could hardly refuse. She pulled up a chair. “Was there anything you would have reported this week, if you’d been able?”

  “Not really. A few of the mothers are still planning how they and their children will be running things in a few years’ time. Running the government, that is, not the Project — so I don’t think you need to worry about it just now. . . . There is something I’d like to hear about, rather than tell. Except I’ve asked before, and I have the impression that you don’t really want to talk about it.”

  Mara suppressed the urge to wriggle in her chair. “You mean, how I came to propose the Project in the first place. May I ask why you find the question so interesting?”

  Laura looked surprised. “I think anyone would. Especially anyone who’s a part of it.” She looked around the hospital room. “Anyone whose life is going to be different because of it.”

  Mara was struck with sudden shame. This young woman had offered her body and months or years of her life to fulfill Mara’s vision. Wasn’t she entitled to know more? But what could Mar
a tell her?

  “It’s true that I find it hard to talk about. You see, it’s more personal than you may have supposed. I had my own reasons to research the development and bonding of twins.”

  Mara paused. She half hoped and half feared that Laura would fill in the next step.

  “You’re a twin? But I’ve never, none of us has heard about a brother or sister. . . . Oh!” Laura stopped, wide-eyed. “Dr. Cadell — did you have a twin who —”

  “He died. Yes.” Mara swallowed hard. “Quite a long time ago.”

  “I’m so sorry. You were very close?”

  “We were — very young. It’s hard to say.” Hard to say without saying far too much.

  Laura looked distressed. “I’m sorry I pressed you. I didn’t know I was prying into something so private. And I’m guessing you wouldn’t want anyone talking about it.”

  “Indeed not.” Mara hoped Laura would not be offended at the emphatic reply, but she could hardly say less.

  “Oh, I won’t say a word. To anyone. And if I hear anyone speculating, I’ll try to steer them in some other direction.”

  “You don’t need to go to any trouble. Just — I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention it to anyone.”

  Laura reached out tentatively as if to take Mara’s hand, and then pulled back. “Thank you for confiding in me. For trusting me.”

  Mara would have liked to demur. She knew she had really done neither.

  “It’s going to be strange, seeing her again. She thinks I’ve opened up to her, when I haven’t. It feels dishonest.”

  “That’s one way to look at it. The other is to look at it as Step One. A baby step, at least. Of course, that would leave open the possibility of making a friend. So by all means go with the first option.”

  “Is friendship always so exhausting? Because if it is, Levi, I really can’t afford it.”