Jenni, Who Might Have Been

Deidra knew Jenni wasn’t real, but she spent time with her every day.

On what would have been Jenni’s third birthday, Deidra added segments from chromosome four and nine to the Jenni simulation. The software melded age-progression AI, Genomic Circles animations, and her own DNA coding. While the new inserts compiled, she wrapped her hands around her coffee cup, letting the warmth seep into stiff fingers. Bits of sunlight slipped through the kitchen window, and the first birds of the morning began their songs. She stared at the spinning wheel on the screen. Somewhere within the pluses and minuses of the code, images formed of her beautiful child.

A soft chime told her the program was complete. Hands trembling, Deidra set the tablet on the dining room table and initiated the simulation. She drew the curtain to block out the light. As she took a seat at the end of the table, the birthday party hologram solidified. Jenni sat in the center, composed of advanced entertainment software, DNA, and bits of dust.

Jenni rests her chin on folded hands as a gaggle of boys and girls sing “Happy Birthday” out of tune. A sprinkle of Frank’s freckles adds spice to her brown nose, but she has her mama’s honey-brown eyes and tight coils. As the last notes fade, she inhales until her cheeks puff like a chipmunk, then blows until the candles sputter and die. Laughing, she claps her hands and catches her mama’s eye.

Deidra’s breath caught. Her precious child blew out her birthday candles. She reached into the hologram and brushed Jenni’s cheek.

Frank’s footsteps broke her reverie. She flicked off the program and waved her arms through the fading projection to disperse what remained. His look of surprise morphed into one of pity. The coffee turned sour in her mouth. She hated his pity.

Frank pulled a cup from the cabinet and poured his coffee. “Morning.” He joined her at the table, taking small sips of the dark liquid. Uncomfortable minutes slipped by until he spoke. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Deidra stared into her cup. “Doing what?”

He pounded the table. “C’mon, Dee. She’s not real. You promised you’d quit this and focus on your research.”

Deidra slouched into her chair. Why didn’t he understand her need to experience a bit of the joy denied them? “With this program, we can see her grow. What she would look like at every age. She has your freckles. And she folds her hands just like you do, and—”

Frank reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “We could try again. Maybe this time, we’ll defy the odds.”

Deidra yanked her hand away. “No!” She blinked back tears. They’d only had six months with Jenni. None of her patients, even those who responded to the treatment, had lived past the age of four. And if the government had its way, people like her and Frank wouldn’t be allowed to have children at all. “I won’t go through that again.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Besides, whatever child they had would never be Jenni.

Frank pushed his cup away and rose from the table. His tee shirt hung loose on his tall frame. Stress had robbed him of some muscle tone these past few months, but the genetic damage from the plague was invisible. Any child they made had a ninety percent chance of being born with brittle bones and leaky blood vessels. “I’ve got an early shift,” he mumbled, heading for the stairs.

Deidra sighed. “Can we meet for lunch? I’m free around one.”

Frank shook his head. “Not today. Surgery at nine, then seeing patients the rest of the day. And I’ll be late tonight.”

Deidra cupped her face in her hands. Why couldn’t she make him understand? He wouldn’t even watch the simulations with her. She flicked a finger across the tablet and a list of the new sims appeared. She didn’t need lunch, anyway. Spending time with Jenni was a better use of her time.

#

Deidra donned her white coat and strode down the hall where children afflicted with Phillip’s Syndrome, the genetic disorder that had claimed Jenni’s life, stayed during their treatment. A soft bark came from the first room. Therapy dog day. The furry coworkers distracted the children and their parents. As a rule, she didn’t interact with her patients, embracing instead her role as a lab dweller in search of a cure.

One of the children’s parents spotted her as she walked past. Deidra quickened her pace. What could she say to their questions? “I want to save your baby, but I’m failing!” One day, she’d be able to smile and assure them Susie or Mark would live. But not today.

Deidra’s hand shook as she unlocked her office at the end of the hall. A piece of blue paper caught her eye. She bent to retrieve it. Another flyer from the Genetic Freedom League? She crumbled the paper and tossed it into the trash can. She didn’t have time for protests. Research would make the difference, not screaming in the streets.

Deidra shoved her briefcase under the counter that stretched across the far wall and served as her desk. Separate screens for each of her six patients covered the space above the counter. With a tap or a swipe, she could pull up their current vitals, lab results, and research protocols. Leo was the oldest and, despite the efforts of her research team, was doing poorly. She traced her finger down the screen, reviewing his latest labs.

Deidra flicked on the mic. “July 11, 2042, patient Leo Lock, age forty months, on Protocol 9. Bone density minus three subnormal, red cell count remains low but unchanged from previous observation. Weight twenty-nine pounds, unchanged.” She paused the recording and pulled up the data on Leo’s last nano bot injection. A slight improvement followed each shot, but the positive impact decreased with each successive treatment. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Once a child hit this downward spiral, they never recovered. She glanced at her gear bag. Inside, her tablet waited with a long list of videos of her own baby. How easy would it be to spend the rest of the day lost in a world where Jenni laughed and loved and lived?

The door opened a crack and her boss Luan peeked in. “Got a minute, Dee?” She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her navy-blue suit gave her sallow skin a grayish cast. “If it’s not a good time, I can come back later.” She pressed her back against the door.

Deidra tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. With Luan, there was never a later.

Luan moved behind Deidra and examined Leo’s date. “Damn. Poor kid. He didn’t respond to the last injection?”

Deidra shook her head. “Barely.” She swiped off the screen. “Out with it, Luan. You know I hate word games.”

Luan’s lips drew into a thin line. “You’re not making progress. Hospital management has noticed.”

Deidra let out a long breath. She knew this conversation was coming, but did it have to be now? “They’re reaching three and four years. Isn’t that progress?” Her own baby never saw her first birthday. What would she have given to have had four years with Jenni?

Luan leaned against the desk. “It’s not enough.”

Deidra cursed under her breath. She should have prepared for this, practiced what to say. Nobody would accuse Luan of being the warm, fuzzy type of boss, but she could appeal to their friendship. “It’s personal. You know how hard I’ve worked on this. Don’t let them take our funding.”

“That’s the problem.” She folded her arms. “It’s so personal, you’re not objective. Deep down, you know the plague damage isn’t fixable. We’re wasting resources.”

“Luan, I—” Deidra’s nails dug into her palms. Luan parroted the government’s arguments. Maybe yelling in the street wasn’t a bad idea. “And just like that, thirty percent of us are sterilized.”

Luan looked away. “These kids will never reach puberty, so effectively, you are sterilized. Except now we’re spending billions on what’s not fixable instead of focusing on diseases we can cure. I know it’s not fair—”

“Fair? It’s not healthy! The less diverse the gene pool, the more disease we’ll see. It will make things worse.” Why couldn’t she see the big picture?

“Without progress, we have no funding.”

“We’d have an entire class of people, fully one third of the population, as second-class citizens.”

Luan ran her fingers through her short hair. She paused and drew a deep breath. “What you’ve done is brilliant on many levels. It will help with countless other disorders. But there’s only one solution for this one.”

Deidra rolled her eyes. “Don’t you see where this is going? What will life be like when people are forced to get their genetics certified? Will we have to carry cards or get tattoos on our foreheads? How much will a rich couple pay for a genetically pure baby?”

Luan said, “Now you sound like those Phillip’s Disease activists. Don’t get wrapped up in that nonsense.”

Deidra knew many of the leaders of that movement, and their views were anything but nonsense. They were sociologists and politicians and even scientists like her. The more she listened to people like Luan, the better Genetic Freedom’s talking points sounded. She held up her hands in a pleading gesture. “I need more time. I have three more protocols planned. All of the nano bots are prepped.”

Luan strode to the door. “You have time for one more protocol. Make it your best.”

Deidra pulled off her white coat and sank into a chair. One more protocol, one more chance to rid the world of this genetic curse. She flicked her finger across the screen and pulled up the next three protocols. She’d designed them to be employed in order, each a bit riskier than the last. Should she take the conservative path with the first or jump feet first with the most aggressive? Over the next few hours, she reran the simulations, checked and rechecked her data.

At four-thirty, she made her decision. The riskiest protocol had the best modeled outcome at fifty-five percent. Despite his fragile state, Leo could be the initial subject, if his parents would consent. With his condition deteriorating, he had the most to lose but also the most to gain. With a groan, she pushed back her chair and covered her face with her hands. She had the life of someone else’s child in her hands. She, who couldn’t save her own baby? She took out her tablet and pulled up the Jenni program. A list of the new simulations appeared. She’d spend the rest of the day with Jenni.

Four-year-old Jenni splashes in a kiddie pool, her face lifted to the sky. Drops of water run through her curly hair and down her back. With a mischievous grin, she sends a cascade of water at Frank. He picks up his daughter and spins her around until they both collapse, laughing, into the soft grass. Deidra kneels and holds out her arms. Jenni runs to her, and she cuddles her giggling child, burying her face in her wet curls. “I love you, Mommy,” she whispers.

#

Deidra paced at the Nurses’ Station. She’d left it to Luan to review the waivers with Leo’s parents. They needed to understand the risks involved, but she didn’t feel capable of explaining it all. Her emotions had an iron grip on her reason. If she tried to speak to them, there was a good chance she’d burst into tears. Not exactly the way to inspire confidence.

When Luan walked towards her an hour later, she froze. “Did you get the signatures?”

Luan shook her head. “Almost.”

“Almost? What does that mean?”

“They want to speak to you first.” She handed her the forms.

“To me? You know I’m not good with people.” Her fingers curled around the papers in her hand.

“And you know how they must be feeling right now. That’s their baby. Let them know you understand, and this is his best chance.”

As Luan led her to a private room, Deidra reviewed a list of what she’d say and came up with a litany of facts. Clinical. Evidence-based. Science. Everything but the human part; the vulnerable part of her she’d tucked away, maybe forever.

She recognized Leo’s mother from her daily visits. Her red-rimmed eyes stood out in her pale face. Mr. Lock stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

Deidra drew a deep breath and held out her hand. “Mr. and Mrs. Lock. I’m Deidra McCade, chief researcher on Phillip’s Disease.”

Mr. Lock said, “So you’re the one in charge of our son’s treatment?” He didn’t look impressed, and Deidra couldn’t blame him. His son hadn’t improved, despite all she and her staff had done. He reluctantly shook her hand, his eyes focused on hers. “This treatment, will it save my boy?”

Deidra searched for the right words. This was Leo’s best chance, but it was barely better than even odds. “We hope so.”

He shook his head. “I need you to tell me it will save him. He’s not doing so well.” He stared at the floor for a moment. “Every time we see him, he’s worse. He’s slipping away.”

Deidra rested her chin on steepled fingers. “I can’t sugar-coat it, Mr. Lock. I can’t give you a guarantee. Nobody can. All our models say this treatment has a fifty-five percent chance of correcting the damaged genes.”

“Fifty-five percent? Meaning there’s a forty-five percent chance it won’t work?”

Deidra nodded. “Yes.”

“That’s not good enough.” He folded his arms and glared at her.

“I know. If I were the two of you, I’d feel the same way,” she said, fighting the tremor in her voice. Leo would most likely never see his fourth birthday, but Jenni hadn’t seen her first. Such a cruel disease, and her only weapons weren’t good enough.

Mrs. Lock sobbed softly while her husband wrung his hands.

Deidra said, “I know the choices are bad. I can’t promise success, but this is the best treatment to help your son. Take a day to talk it over. When you’re ready, let us know.”

Deidra turned to leave.

“Wait,” he said. “We’ll sign. I just needed to know, okay?”

Deidra squeezed his hand. “I know. I truly do.”

Deidra drifted back to her office where Jenni waited for her. She flicked on the program and sat back in her chair.

Jenni runs to the door, wearing her backpack, a lunchbox in her hand. “C’mon, Mommy. First day of school. The bus is coming.” The door opens and Jenni sees the bus. She runs down the walkway as the bus door opens. She freezes, then dashes back to her mama and gives her a big hug. “Love you, Mommy!”

“Have the best day, baby,” Deidra whispers. “The very best day.”

#

Deidra stared at the lab data on the screen. It wasn’t working. Leo’s vitals continued to slip after the treatment had been administered.

 The door opened, and Luan peered in. Deidra knew what she would say before she spoke. She hugged her arms to her chest.

“We lost Leo. His parents would like to speak to you.”

Deidra’s tongue scraped against her dry mouth. “With me? I don’t know what to say. I tried everything.”

“Then tell them that. That you tried and you cared.”

“I do care!” Seeing Leo’s parents would remind her of the real moments with Jenni, of holding her, small and warm in her arms, her breath shallow and quick, and Deidra’s tears falling on the blanket.

“I know that, but they don’t. They need to hear it from you.”

Leo’s parents waited for her outside his room, their faces masks of pain. She fought the urge to run back to her office and Jenni.

“I wanted so much for Leo to live,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

Mrs. Lock said, “You said this was his best chance! He didn’t last a day. He was just an experiment to you.”

Deidra shook her head. “No. Finding an answer to Phillip’s Disease has been everything to me. It’s been—”

Leo’s father held up his hand, silencing her. He gathered his wife in his arms and let her sob into his chest.

Deidra fled down the hall to her office.

Luan followed her. “Maybe if you’d told them about Jenni, they would understand.”

“No,” Deidra snarled. “I’m not using my child as an excuse. I did the best I could. Please leave me alone.”

Luan said, “Take time off. Get some rest. Maybe take a vacation with Frank.”

Deidra said, “Let me be. Please go.”

Luan slipped out and Deidra sank into her chair. A vacation? With Frank? They’d barely spoken to one another these last few weeks. If she could spend time with anyone, it would be her baby girl. She switched on her tablet and lost herself in Jenni.

Jenni runs across the sand, taking wide strides. She looks behind her, her face a mask of joy. With a burst of speed, she hits the water. Peals of laughter echo across the beach as a wave knocks her over. She kneels in the surf and splashes her companions. Then she’s up and the chase begins again.

#

Deidra huddled in a corner of the jail cell, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. Attending the protest was a stupid idea, but she’d never admit it out loud. She hadn’t meant to get involved in the clash with the counter-protestors, but when that one guy grabbed her sign… And this was only the beginning. Once the new laws took effect, things would get worse.

Most of the other protestors had been bailed out by family or friends. An hour had passed since she called Frank. Should she phone someone else? She reviewed a mental list of friends and family, but there wasn’t a single person who wouldn’t subject her to a lecture.

“Deidra McCade?” The cop looked around for her.

Deidra grabbed her sweatshirt. The officer unlocked the cell, and she followed him down the dark hallway to a desk.

The clerk handed her a bag with her things and an envelope. “Your court date, bail receipt, and a list of lawyers should you require one.” He led her down the hall into the busy police station.

Frank leaned against the wall, his hands in his front pockets. A casual observer might assume he was calm, but she knew better.

“Thanks for coming,” she mumbled.
He gave a small nod, then headed for the door. A soft drizzle fell, raising the stink of urine and garbage from the concrete. She followed him to the parking garage, and Frank drove off.

Deidra stared out the window, searching for words to break the silence. “Are you going to say anything?” she said finally.

A vein pulsed on Frank’s temple. “What do you want me to say? That I’m proud of you? That it’s great you screwed up both our careers?”

Deidra pounded her fist on the dashboard. “I didn’t screw up anything!”

Frank shrugged. “What are you doing, Dee? What’s your point?”

“The point? I thought we agreed the government shouldn’t have any say in who can reproduce and who can’t.”

“The government didn’t make the decision. The plague did. It doesn’t matter what you and I think. It’s a done deal. Embarrassing us won’t change it.”

Deidra’s heart thudded in her chest. “So I’m embarrassing you now?”

“Oh, no. It’s great to see my wife’s photo plastered across the vid screens with all the other derelicts.”

“We were peaceful until the counter-protestors started calling us freaks.” She hadn’t meant to get caught up in the fray, but how could she let that stand?

Frank said, “Why are you protesting a law that doesn’t impact you? You don’t want to try to have another baby. What difference does this make to you?”

“Difference? Do you want to be labeled a freak? To be sterilized against your will?”

“We aren’t doing any procreating. We don’t have anything to lose.”

Deidra shook her head. How had their views diverged this much? “What about our dignity?”

“I’d say you lost that when they dragged you off in handcuffs.”

When they arrived home, Frank climbed the stairs to bed, leaving Deidra alone. She took out her tablet.

Jenni sits at her dressing table in a pink robe, carefully applying mascara. Deidra’s face appears in the mirror and Jenni turns.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Jenni hugs her mother. “Get my dress, Mama. He’ll be here any moment.”

Jenni steps out of her robe and into her dress, turning so her mama can pull up the zipper. She twirls in her lavender gown. “How does it look? Will he like it?”

“Like it?” The gown is perfect with her warm brown skin and picks up the gold highlights in her eyes. “You’re beautiful, baby. So beautiful. You’ll be prom queen; you just wait and see.”

#

Deidra took a seat across from Luan. Three HR reps were included in the meeting. She felt a sting of betrayal after all their years of friendship. Did Luan really want to see these new laws go into effect?

Luan drummed her fingers on the desk. “I’m so disappointed in you, Deidra.”

Deidra held up her hand. “Stop. Fire me or whatever, but spare me your lectures. I have a right to express my opinions.”

“There’s a clause in your contract that says you can’t do anything that embarrasses the institute.”

“So fire me.” Deidra leaned back and folded her arms. With her funding pulled, there was little reason to stay here.

Luan leaned across the table. “I saved your job. Barely. The least you could do is thank me.”

“Why bother saving my job? My funding is pulled. What am I supposed to do with my time?”

“You’ll have three months to think about it. You’re on administrative leave until then.” She got up to leave.

“Three months? You’re kidding me, right?”

Luan pointed her finger at her. “Don’t test me, Dee. Get your personal belongings and go home. See you in three months.”

#

Deidra pulled into their driveway, surprised to see Frank’s car parked on the street. The house was dark. As she slid the key in the lock, the door popped open. Frank stood in the foyer, suitcase in hand. Dee folded her arms and stared at him, a chill drifting down her spine.

Frank set the suitcase down and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry, Dee. So sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

Deidra bit her lip. He would not make her cry. “Please don’t leave. We can get through this. We’ve always gotten through this.”

Frank’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Not this time, babe. I love you. Truly, I do. But there will never be a life for us if we’re not both living in reality.” He picked up his suitcase and left without a backward glance.

Shivering, Deidra let the numbness take over as she watched him drive away. She crouched on the cold marble of the hallway, unable to summon the will to move. An hour passed before she rose on trembling legs and dragged herself to the living room. She drew a blanket around her shoulders and stared at the empty room. Her tablet sat beside her. She pulled it out and opened the Jenni program.

Jenni stands under a rose-covered arch in the middle of a white picket fence, facing a house framed with trees in the flaming colors of autumn. A man approaches her from behind, his feet swishing in the fallen leaves. She turns and breaks into a smile. Her arms cradle her swollen belly as the man pulls her in for an embrace. “I love it,” she whispers. “The perfect place to start our family.”

Deidra brushed away tears. She tapped the keys and now it was just Jenni, a hologram of a lovely young woman. She tapped again and there was teenage Jenni, middle school Jenni, and then six-year-old Jenni in her pink tutu and ballet slippers.

She stared at the beautiful smiling girl. Would Leo’s parents want a similar simulation of their child? She shook her head. No. It was all a lie. Things that might have been, but were not to be.

Deidra grabbed a vase and threw it into the hologram. It smashed against the brick of the fireplace as the hologram waivered, then solidified again.

Snarling, she called up the simulation software. Over and over, she pressed the delete key. The files flashed away. Dresses and toys, school buses and birthday parties. Beach days and school days. Happy times and tearful ones.

Stripped of the fluff of dresses and bows, habitual gestures and facial expressions, the simulation became a simple cartoon. Not a real-looking child at all, but with enough information that Deidra could tell the cartoon girl was her Jenni, unique as anyone who had ever been born. One of a kind.

And then it hit her. Jenni was unique. Leo was unique. All the children she had tried to save were unique. She grabbed her tablet and bag and dashed into the dining room. She swept everything off the table and pulled out her notes. The cursor blinked in the Genomic Circles program. In place of the three-dimensional simulations of live action and age-progression, she added blood chemistry, metabolic data and chromosome specifics.

The first models compiled by the time the sky lightened on the horizon. For the next three days she worked, stopping only for coffee and a few hours of sleep. At dawn on the fourth day, the final compilations concluded. The screen flashed ninety-one percent.

#

Deidra clutched her tablet against her chest as she made her way to Luan’s office. Ignoring the protests of Luan’s admin, she pushed open the door. “I did it. It’s all here.”

Luan leaned back in her chair. “You look awful, Dee. Sit down. I’ll get you some coffee.”

Deidra accepted the cup with trembling hands. “This may be a caffeine overdose, but with no sleep for three days, I need it.” She set down the cup and placed her tablet on Luan’s desk. “I found it. The breakthrough.” She tapped the screen. “It’s right here. It’s been here all along.”

Luan peered down at the tablet. “Genomic Circles? An artificial reality program? That’s entertainment, not science.”

Deidra tapped her index finger on the screen. “It’s genetics based. It can scramble genetics and give you fake people, but the scaffolding is there to show you real people. If it can show me what my child would look like dancing or swimming, why couldn’t it tell me how her blood chemistry changes with a drug, or in this case, how her DNA responds to genetic manipulation?”

Luan stared at her, her brow creased, and lips pressed tight.

Deidra leaned across the desk. “Don’t you see? The damaged genes are the same for all the kids, but the undamaged ones aren’t. They’re different for each person. I was so focused on fixing the damaged genes, I never considered the rest of the package.” She held up her hands in a pleading gesture. “Let me try this. It could be the breakthrough.

“Dee, honey, I understand how much this means to you. But how can I justify this? What makes this idea the one?”

Deidra drew a deep breath. “Because according to this new model, Jenni lives.”

#

Deidra gripped the podium to still her trembling hands. Her notes blurred as she blinked away tears. Four years of research had shrunk down to this moment. When she looked up, Frank entered at back of the room and took a seat. He gave her a nod and a cautious smile. Her nerves settled a bit. They’d have a rough road to repair their relationship, but maybe there was a chance. She gulped a breath as Luan introduced her.

When the applause died down, Deidra stepped from behind the podium. She tapped the button to start her presentation. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Genni, an advanced genetic model for Phillip’s Disease.”

A cartoon girl appeared on the screen. She had curly pigtails and a sprinkle of freckles across her brown nose. She did a little pirouette in her pink tutu and ballet slippers. “C’mon,” she said, beckoning. “Let’s get to know me.”