Johannesburg, 2021
Keke stirs on the couch, but settles down again. Van der Heever is tireless.
‘If you put your emotions aside for just a moment and look at the results – morally and ethically speaking, it’s accepted that the welfare of the many should take precedence over the welfare of the few, and as such, sacrifices needed to be made. We were not, contrary to what you may think, barbarous about it, as many eugenicists have been before us… unwitting patients waking up, in pain, only to realise that their uteri had been removed. Our solution was much more humane. Cleaner. In fact, we believe that once it becomes clear what has happened here, other countries will follow suit, and soon we’ll have a global population that is both under control and more efficient.’
‘Next stop: cyborgs,’ says Seth, ‘that’s not a world I want to live in.’
‘Dear boy, if the population of the rest of the world keeps growing as it is, there will no longer be a world to live in. We are safeguarding the future for all.’
‘For some. For those you deem fit. Others you deny a future altogether. How many cells are there?’ asks Kirsten. ‘How many people’s lives have you stolen?’
‘A dozen, maybe more. An infinitesimal portion of the population. Genesis members, however, are in the thousands. They’re in every strata of South African life.’ He lifts his palms to the ceiling, as if he is some kind of prophet. ‘How else would we be able to pull this off?’
‘I still don’t understand,’ says Seth, perhaps trying to buy more time, ‘the point of the clone project. So you isolated some interesting genes. Then what?’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.’
‘Try me. What was the point? To splice a little army for yourself? Take over the world?’
‘The point was to create a superior race.’
‘So not unlike Hitler, then,’ says Kirsten.
‘To the contrary, dear Kate. It was never about me, never about power. I’ve never liked the limelight. A superior race would get ill less often, work harder, be more intelligent, less violent, have more talents, and lead more fulfilling lives. It was to make the world a better place.’
‘But how would it work,’ asks Seth, ‘in your sad, imaginary world? Deserving parents would get their license and then come along to you for a designer embryo? You harvest their eggs and sperm and make a few little tweaks, remove any genetic abnormalities, add some extra brains or blue eyes. Ask them if they’d prefer a boy or a girl. It’s bespoke IVF. You’re fooling yourself. You’re not making the world a better place. You’re in the designer baby business – a fertility quack – there is nothing new or noble about that.’
‘You don’t understand how far technology has come,’ smiles the doctor.
‘Okay, you straight-out clone them, then.’
‘Cloning is now old tech. It was never very successful. The ratio of live births wasn’t good at all. We started with cloning because it was the best technology we had at the time, but now… now we have other means. Besides, cloning is still dependent on the pregnancy and birth being successful. There are just too many things that can go wrong. Too many variables we can’t control. So… we cut out the gestation period.’
‘Wait,’ says Kirsten, ‘what?’
‘You’ve cut out the gestation?’ says Seth. ‘As in, you grow them in artificial wombs, in the lab?’
Kirsten pictures a room filled with transparent silicone wombs and feels like throwing up again.
‘We experimented with that, but it wasn’t a viable solution in the end. It was difficult to get the exact… nuances of the environment right.’
‘Right,’ says Seth. He was genuinely interested now. You could see his brain working, thinking of possible alternatives. He comes up blank. ‘Okay, now you have to tell me.’
Dr Van der Heever’s lips curl up into a smile, there is a snap in his eyes.
‘We print them,’ he says, not being able to keep the pride out of his voice. ‘We print babies.’