EMBRYOS

Karla Weatherbee sat in the demographics room, examining the data from her latest population survey. She brushed wisps of long brown hair out of her eyes and began chewing on her pencil, something she always did when she was nervous or dissatisfied. Knowing that Commander Shestek would be expecting results based on her original, overly optimistic projections, she ran her numbers though the computer, one more time. But the results were the same. After all the time and power her group had expended to transport fertilized eggs from 1986 back to the early '70's, she'd expected miracles. She'd expected to find a notable increase in the number of 'gifted' individuals emerging from the earth-bound population. In reality, none of those individuals had lived to adulthood. According to planetary records, most of the embryos had died during the mother's pregnancy, at birth or shortly thereafter.

As always when confronted with failure, Weatherbee needed time to think and re-group. She retired to the ship's lounge for a quick scotch and soda, and a chance to look though the lounge's display portals at the healthy, green planet with its intriguing cloud formations and beautiful blue oceans. _If our mission fails,_ she thought, _then this ship, crew and equipment, the entire endeavor, becomes nothing more than what the opposition party called it back home in 3677. A money-eating monster._

Karla drained her glass and moved to the bar to order a second, stronger beverage. Commander Shestek slipped onto the bar stool next to hers. "Now, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this, Lieutenant?"

"Trying to decide how I'm going to break the bad news to you."

"And what news would that be?" he asked, a comforting smile appearing on his rugged face.

"That I was wrong. Despite all our precautions, it looks like our embryos did not survive the time-trip. Now, we've got to start over, from square one."

"I suspected as much."

"Huh--You knew the mission was going to be a failure?"

"The mission is not a failure, Lieutenant."

"Just because the time transportation equipment worked smoothly, that doesn't mean this mission has been a success. Other ships have analyzed every aspect of the time-jumps. What additional information can we give our superiors to justify the time and money spent on our voyage?" To emphasize her disappointment, Karla quickly downed her second drink, barely feeling the effects from her first.

"Go easy on that stuff."

"Why?"

"Because you still have a lot of work to do." Shestek felt sorry for the pretty young analyst, but thought he could set her mind at ease. "Remember I told you that information on this voyage would be disseminated on a 'need to know' basis?"

"Yeah, I remember. I wasn't allowed to know about ship's armaments or your top secret communications to Admiral Belson. But I guess that's all 'moot' now, isn't it? I mean, whatever Machiavellian plans you had for the development of those embryos are dead, along with the embryos, themselves."

"Lieutenant--Karla, we do have a plan B, you know. It's messier than plan A but it has a much greater chance of success."

"What are you telling me, Commander?"

"I'm ordering you to have just one more drink and relax, then go to bed early and meet me at the briefing room at 0800 hours, tomorrow morning. I'll explain it all at that time." The Commander got up from his stool, tossing down a few credits to pay for his drink as well as Karla's.

As he left the bar, Shestek glanced back to look at his lieutenant. She certainly was a lovely young woman. In other circumstances, he'd have tried to take advantage of that beauty. In the present circumstances, her shapely curves, beautiful green eyes and long tresses would be more valuable to the mission than any other single piece of equipment, save for the time-transport unit, itself.

#

Jeffrey Hudson peered through his powerful new telescope, and tried to focus in on something old--something incredibly distant and removed from his existence, like the M100 galaxy. He finally zoomed in on a small patch of stars which, hopefully, were part of the Virgo cluster.

_This is really fascinating stuff,_ he thought. _I could be looking at stars that haven't existed for millions or at least thousands of years. I'm looking straight into the past. It's incredible._

Suddenly, a long snake-like space object appeared over the stars.

"Peek-A-Boo. Time for school," said his Mother, wiggling fingers over the lens. "Come downstairs, your breakfast is ready."

"Mom, you shouldn't touch the lens with your fingers. You'll get oil on it."

"Sorry," she said as he hurried back out of his room and down to the kitchen, to finish making breakfast for Jeff and his younger sister.

Jeff dressed quickly and tried to prepare himself for the horrors of another day in the 10th grade. He changed into un-fashionable but comfortable jeans and a loose fitting shirt, then snapped his mini-calculator snugly onto his belt buckle, threw a few pens into his breast pocket protector and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

"I'll be taking your sister to ballet practice this afternoon, so you'll be here by yourself for awhile, if that's OK," said Mom.

"Fine."

"Are you sure you're not afraid to stay here by yourself?"

"Mom. I'm sixteen. I'm almost a grown man."

"Well, invite a friend or two over if you like. Invite that boy John Green. You two seem to get along so well."

"Maybe. We haven't spoken much lately."

"Are you having trouble with the kids at school, again?"

"No, Mom. Don't worry about me. Everything's fine."

Everything wasn't 'fine' but Jeff wasn't about to tell his mother all his problems. The kids at school picked on him mercilessly. They teased him, called him 'Nerd-face', flushed his gym shorts down the toilet and tossed his organized class notes into the air, making math and science papers fly through the halls like propaganda leaflets in World War Two Germany.

"The other kids all call him 'merd', Mom," said Lisa, his nine-year-old sister. "That's all I hear all day long. 'Your brother's a merd--He's a science merd.'" She jammed her spoon into her bowl of 'Super Sweety Health Flakes' to emphasize her point.

"Ok, Lisa. That's enough."

"Science merd! Jeffrey is a science merd! Ha Ha!"

"Listen, half-pint. The word is 'nerd'. I'm a science nerd, not a science merd."

"Mom, what's worse? A nerd or a merd?"

"Finish your breakfast, dear. And stop teasing your brother."

#

Karla Weatherbee and Commander Shestek watched Jeffrey leave for school from the large monitor in their briefing room. With them were the two biologists, Dr. Bacon and Dr. Egger, known affectionately as 'Bacon and Eggs.'

"He really is a very ordinary looking young man," noted Egger.

"Quite ordinary," agreed Bacon.

"But studies show that he's a great source for the genes we need back in 1970," said Karla.

"A few children like him, born between 1970 and 1972, will greatly accelerate the current growth of technology in the areas of physics and applied mathematics," said the Commander.

"Along with a few verbally and artistically gifted children, to initiate a simultaneous growth in the arts and social sciences," said Bacon.

"Yes. We absolutely need the artistic children too, Commander," said Egger.

"But maybe you all are forgetting what I told you this morning," said Karla. "The experiment is dead because the embryos we sent back to 1970 are dead. When we implanted them in the selected mothers, they didn't grow, despite your advanced biological techniques. And your assurances that the time transport wouldn't affect them."

"Hey, don't lay the blame on us," said Bacon.

"We just followed established protocols," added Egger.

"Devised by our superiors back home."

"Now children, don't squabble," said the Commander. "The project isn't dead. Maybe the embryos weren't viable before we took them on their time trip. We could start the project over again. And keep the embryos under constant observation, this time."

"Is that what you're recommending, Commander?" asked Karla.

"No. As a matter of fact, there's a second authorized protocol for this experiment, one that would give us a much better chance at success."

"A better chance at success? If this protocol is so far superior, why didn't we follow it in the first place?"

"The other methods were, let's just say, easier on the crew."

"And this new method?" asked Bacon.

"Works how?" asked Egger.

"Through in-vivo rather than in-vitro fertilization of the eggs."

"Now, hold on a second, Commander. You think we can simply impregnate a young girl, have her bring the embryo to the point of viability, then simply remove it from her without her knowing a thing?"

"No, Lieutenant. That won't work. It might raise suspicions, especially if one of the young ladies goes to her gynecologist before we remove the embryo."

"Oh, I see . . . You want one of us to be artificially inseminated with the genetic material . . . "

"You mean sperm."

"Ok . . . sperm from this subject?"

"Not exactly. The process of artificial insemination adds yet another unwanted variable to our equation. Transportation up to the ship will stun the sperm, make it less potent. So, it could take months to successfully impregnate our surrogate mother. And how long can we wait before performing the insemination? Do we have the facilities to place the sperm in stasis until it's ready for use? Remember, the leaders back home didn't put much value in our little project."

"He's right," said Bacon.

"They sent us back to this century with the minimum amount of equipment we would need to complete the mission," added Egger.

"So, I just can't see using expensive, wasteful artificial insemination when simple intercourse will suffice. Especially since we have the technology to insure a pregnancy under natural conditions."

"You want one of us to volunteer to have intercourse with a subject?"

"Not one of you, all twenty-five women on this ship must volunteer, then immediately transport to the 1970 destination point, where the fertilized egg will be placed in a suitable indigenous female.

"Now wait a second, Commander. You want to conduct these studies with 20th century sperm coupled with 37th century eggs. That sort of ruins the purity of the experiment, don't you think?" asked Bacon.

"No. Because the traits we need to infuse into the population can be garnered from available sperm. And the embryos' additional 37th century genetic material will not adversely affect the personality and interests of the being we ultimately create."

"But--but maybe we could do the whole experiment back in 1970. We could fertilize our eggs with sperm from that era, and transplant them into the pregnant woman . . . " said Egger.

"Avoiding time transportation of the embryos, altogether," added Bacon.

"Won't work, gentleman. Karla, tell them why." Karla had momentarily lost the train of the conversation. She was trying to think of a way to keep her mission commander from viewing her body as a precious resource.

"Karla . . . a little demographic explanation if you please."

"Bacon & Eggs, you'd better stick to biology. The reason we've been working in 1986 to begin with stems from the fact that the genes we need were in scarce supply back in '70. Scientific and artistic types were ingesting a number of hallucinogenic and psychotropic drugs for academic studies or recreational use. And those drugs weakened the kind of genetic material we're trying to reproduce. Only here, in 1986, after those hallucinogenic drugs had fallen out of popular use, were sperm with the desired DNA traits readily available once again."

"So, why can't be just incubate babies with those traits here-- now. Why take them back to 1970?"

"Because 1986 has a glut of these minds coming into being. So many that the society, in its present state, has no use for them all. By 2030, they'll end up being used car salesman or independent business owners," said the Commander.

"But these babies were in short supply back in '70. That's why technological advances slowed to a crawl over the late 20th century. If we re-populate that era, we'll have the young thinkers we need now and over the next twenty years, to popularize scientific study and point more ordinary research minds in the proper direction. Our planet, our leaders in 3677 need five-hundred to one-thousand cryo-electrical geniuses for the development of star voyaging chambers. They only have a couple hundred at this point. It's our job to double or triple that figure," added Karla, "by increasing the numbers of potential ancestors."

"I'm glad you see it my way, Lieutenant."

"I don't see it your way, Commander. But I can't think of another viable solution. So, I'll follow your orders and we'll see what happens."

"Heck Commander. Sounds like a reasonable plan to us," said Bacon and Eggs. "But thank god we're not women." They both left the room, hand-in-hand, stifling back adolescent giggles.

Sometime later, Karla approached her commander for one last word on the subject. "Commander, maybe we SHOULD consider artificial insemination as an alternative to--to what you're proposing."

"I'm proposing completing my mission in a way that'll give us the best chance for success. And you know it as well as I do."

"A lot of the women on this ship are going to object."

"Well, for now, I only have to worry about one woman. My prototype subject."

"And who is this lucky gal?" asked Karla, dreading to hear the answer.

"You Karla. You've got to be the first 'surrogate mother.'"

"Why?"

"Because you're a senior officer. You know more about what's going on around here than most people. And because I can trust you, Karla. I can trust you to do the job, right."

"Thanks a bunch for the vote of confidence, Commander."

"Don't mention it."

#

The Commander and Karla watched Jeffrey Hudson go through an afternoon of school, from the comforts of their 37th century viewing chamber.

"What's so special about this particular subject, Commander?"

"Well, in twnety years he becomes a key figure in the Nasa research team. Everybody knows about the astronauts, Stanley and Giffenson, who first landed on Mars. But few people are aware that it was the work of this man, along with two or three of his colleagues, who made it all possible."

"He's a pretty unlikely hero, I'd say," Karla noted as she watched him, buck naked, running around his gym-class locker room after the larger boy who'd stolen all his clothes.

"Whatsa matter Nerd-face? Can't catch me?" asked the larger boy as he stayed two or three paces in front of the future Nasa star.

"Gimme my stuff. Come on. Gimme my stuff."

"Oh look," said Karla. "Those other boys are watching the action and laughing at our subject."

"Well, at this stage in his life he's a misfit. And teens don't treat misfits kindly," said the Commander.

"Go Nerd-face Go! Go Nerd-face Go!" yelled the boys who were watching the action. Then, an older man walked into the room and the yelling boys scattered. Even Jeffrey's tormentor dropped the clothes he was holding and ran for cover.

"What's going on here?" the gym class instructor demanded. Jeffrey, hastily picking up his clothes, had no ready answer.

"Hudson, why are you parading around here naked? Hoping one of the girls will see your naked butt, I suppose."

"No. No sir. I was just . . . me and the guys, we were just messing around."

"Why doesn't he tell the teacher what happened?" Karla asked her commander. "Why doesn't he tattle on the boy who stole his clothes?"

"There's an unwritten code among teenage boys, Karla, even in our day. You don't turn in a fellow student for teasing. You use your wits and your muscles to get revenge."

"That's so stupid and macho."

"Maybe," admitted the commander. "But that's the way it is."

"Ok fine. I've watched the subject at school and at home. Now what? Do we anesthetize the boy and bring him on board so I can seduce him in private, I hope?"

"Well, he has to be conscious during the act, and I don't want him going around telling UFO stories. So, I'd rather you went down to earth to mate with him."

"You just want me to walk up to a strange boy and tell him to take me to bed, without any pre-amble. Suppose he doesn't want to have intercourse with me?"

"Karla, you're a twenty-six-year old woman with a pretty face and a damn nice body. You won't have any trouble seducing him, believe me."

"And where are we supposed to do it?"

"In his bedroom. There'll be no one home the entire afternoon."

"I'm somewhat uncomfortable with this, Commander."

"It's all part of the job, Lieutenant."

"Wonderful."

#

After the uncomfortable incident in gym class, Jeffrey Hudson hoped to have an easy time in Algebra class, breeze through Social Studies, his last class of the day, and then head home to relax with his telescope. But when he entered the math classroom, all eyes were on him. News had gotten around about the gym-class incident.

The teacher was droning on about x-cubed plus y-squared when Jeffrey received the note. It was a folded piece of yellow paper, passed to him by the boy on the left. He opened the note and read its anonymous hurtful contents. He was about to hide it in his pocket when Mr. Jackson, the Algebra teacher, called on him.

"Mr. Hudson."

"Yes."

"Mr. Hudson, do you know the answer to the problem we've all been trying so hard to solve? How would you factor x-cubed plus y- squared plus 45 equals 345?"

"Uh . . . "

"Perhaps you don't know the answer because you haven't been paying attention. Let me see that note you're reading."

"What note."

"The note that's in your hand, Mr. Hudson."

"Uh--this isn't anything. I'll put it away."

"Give it to me, Mr. Hudson," insisted the teacher, moving to Jeffrey's desk and standing in front of him with an outstretched hand. Jeffrey reluctantly handed him the note.

"Now let's see what kind of important correspondence is going on while I'm trying to teach algebra. 'Dear Jeffrey. I hear there's less of you than meets the eye.'"

The class broke out in peals of laughter, making Jeff feel quite insignificant.

"Quiet. Quiet," ordered the teacher. "Now, who wrote this note?" The class was silent. Nobody wanted to admit authorship.

"Tell me who wrote the note or you'll all be doing double homework tonight." Still, nobody stepped forward. "Fine," said the teacher, returning to his desk and turning to the back of his textbook. "Tonight you will all be responsible for questions 1-40 on page 35 and 1-25 on page 37." The air filled with groans and whines. All of the kids shot Jeffrey nasty looks. And when the teacher's back was turned, someone took a rubber band and shot a wad of paper at Jeffrey's neck. It hurt like the dickens, but Jeffrey knew better than to complain.

After Algebra, Jeffrey tried to hurry to his last class as quickly as possible. But Caroline Orderly, the most attractive cheerleader at school, caught his eye.

"Hey Jeff, come here for a second," she ordered. Reason told Jeffrey to ignore her, but her face and figure were not to be ignored.

"Hi Caroline," he said sheepishly.

"Jeff. I just wanted to ask. Do you have a date for the dance on Saturday night?"

"Uh, no, but . . ."

"Well guess what? You still don't!" said the girl with a laugh as she turned tail and re-joined her friends.

#

"What a bitch," said Karla Weatherbee to her commander, after watching the interchange with the girl.

"It's typical high school nonsense, Karla. But I hope you noted how the girl was dressed, how she wore her hair and makeup."

"Sure. That's the sexy 'Lolita' look. Knee-high socks, short skirt, pony tail, red lipstick. When I was younger, I dressed like that on occasion."

"Well that's what he finds attractive. So that's how you should be dressed."

"Commander," said Karla. "I haven't dressed like that on a date in over ten years."

"This isn't a 'date', Lieutenant, It's a mission. So please follow orders."

"If I must," said Karla.

"Given his typical schedule, he should be home in about an hour, so you should start your preparations. Did you take the fertility drugs prescribed by Bacon and Eggs?

"Yes sir."

"Very good."

#

After the final bell rang, Jeffrey gathered up his books and ran for the door. He had no intention of having any more contact with kids that afternoon.

Outside, several of the tougher boys, angry about the extra Algebra homework, shouted at him.

"Hey Nerd-face. Come here so I can kick your butt. Nerd-face where are you going? Come back here." Jeffrey broke into a run, down suburban streets, past barking dogs and small children. He tried to take a short cut through one man's yard but was stopped.

"Hey is this your yard?" asked the man.

"No, sir. But the other kids might be after me today. I need to take the short-cut."

"Not through my yard."

"But sir."

"Get out of here, kid."

Jeffrey took the long way home, and was stopped, a block from his house, by a bully with fists ready to punch.

"Hey Nerd-face," said the larger boy, grabbing Jeffrey by the shirt collar. "Want to hit me?"

"Uh--not really. Let me go."

"Come on, chicken, hit me," dared the boy. So Jeffrey obliged with a right to the boy's gut. And in return, the boy landed a solid blow to Jeffrey's stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. "You are such a Nerd-face, Hudson. Hope I didn't mess your pocket protector, wuss."

Karla, dressed like a debutante and feeling like a fool, watched Jeffrey's altercation with the bully from a few paces down the street. After the boy had left, she ran to the punched-out young man, lying on the grass in front of a suburban home.

"You're not having a good day, are you?" she asked as Jeffrey painfully got to his feet.

"I just had the wind knocked out of me, that's all," Jeff replied. "I'm Ok now, Miss."

_Now what do I do?_ thought Karla. _Just take him home and rape him?_ "Where do you live?" she asked.

"Just down the street."

"Let me help you there."

Jeffrey looked at this gorgeous older woman with the friendly smile. She'd just seen him knocked on his ass. She probably though he was a fool. "I'm Ok," he said. "That punch just took me by surprise. That's all. I'm much better now."

Karla helped the boy to his front door. "You're very nice, but this is where I live. So I guess I'd better . . ."

"Invite me inside?"

Jeffrey gulped and glanced again at this beautiful woman who looked a little bit like Caroline Orderly.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Yes."

"Well, come in," he said, unlocking the door and ushering the woman into his home. "We're all alone here. My mom took my sister to ballet lessons his afternoon."

"That's nice."

"Can I get you anything. Anything to drink or eat?"

Karla wanted to get her mission over with. She'd had her own troubles as an adolescent, before her body had developed. She was finding Jeffrey's life almost too uncomfortable and embarrassing for words.

_He's a sweet boy, really. I wish he had more friends. Or a nice girl to date,_ she thought, just before grabbing him and kissing him hard on the mouth.

"What. What was that for?"

"I think you're a pretty great guy, Jeff."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things about you," she said, starting to unbutton her blouse.

"What--what are you doing?" Jeff asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Jeffrey?"

"But--but I don't know you."

"So what?"

Whatever the woman's motives, Jeffrey knew a golden opportunity when he saw one. So he threw his arms around the woman and planted a sloppy kiss on her mouth.

"Hey, you're getting the idea now, Jeff."

"Yes, Ma'am. That was fun. Didn't you think so?"

Instead of answering, Karla took his Jeffrey by the hand and led him into his bedroom. She helped him undress and get into bed. Then, she disrobed completely, making the boy drool with anticipation.

"You're so beautiful," he said. Karla joined him in bed and gave him a little more encouragement. Almost immediately, the boy's hormones spurred him into action. Soon, she could feel his long red tongue exploring her secret areas. Soon, her juices began to flow and her body convulsed in ecstacy. And shortly thereafter, he performed the act as professionally as a man twice his age.

#

Two weeks later, Bacon and Eggs gave Karla a thorough examination.

"Well you're pregnant. And the embryo is alive and thriving," they told her.

"Great. The commander will be pleased."

"I'm more than pleased," said Commander Shestek. "I'm positively ecstatic."

"Hold your ecstasy until we make the time-jump back to 1970, Commander."

"I'm sure your body will protect the embryo from transport, Karla. I'd bet my life on it."

Karla wasn't as certain as the Commander. And she was feeling very guilty over the whole experience. She'd seduced and raped an under-aged boy. That wasn't to be taken lightly.

Karla now had a new hobby, watching the boy, Jeffrey, from the view screen in the briefing room. He seemed none the worse for wear. And he hadn't fallen in love with her, as you might expect an adolescent boy in his situation to do. Even though she'd disappeared from his bedchamber following the act, he didn't seem lonely and depressed over the next few days. If anything, he seemed more confident and mature. He wasn't wearing that stupid pocket protector to school anymore and he was learning to shout back at the bullies who tormented him.

"I'd say you did that boy a world of good, Karla," said Commander Shestek.

"Commander, you startled me. I didn't see you come in."

"Just wanted to tell you, we're going to jump back to 1970 in about five minutes. It's time to strap yourself in the safety seat we designed to give the embryo a little more protection."

"OK. I'm ready. Just tell me one thing--about the boy, Jeffrey."

"I told you. He becomes a Nasa whiz kid in a few years."

"But does he ever get married?"

"No."

"And I'll bet that's my fault."

"Nonsense. He probably just never finds the right girl."

"If you say so, Commander."

Karla went to deck eleven and strapped herself into the safety seat for the time-trip back to 1970. The trip itself was over in a flash. And moments later, Bacon and Eggs were by her side, leading her to the examination room.

"The embryo is thriving, Commander," said Egger a short while later.

"It's definitely viable," said Bacon.

"Great. Now we'll remove it from Karla and transplant it into our test mom."

"Maybe. Maybe I should bring the child to term myself. Then, after delivery, we could deliver it to an orphanage or something."

"Karla, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard you say. We want this child to be brought up in a particular family, a family able to nurture its gifts and ultimately send it to the proper college, where its mind can be discovered."

"Yes, Commander."

Karla underwent the painless operation about a week later. Two days after that, she found the nerve to confront Bacon and Eggs.

"How's the embryo doing?"

"We implanted it in the mother, and it seems to be thriving in her uterus," said Egger.

"Yes. This variation on the experiment seems to have worked out just fine," added Bacon.

"Did you tell the Commander?"

"They certainly did," said Shestek, as he entered the room. "You have my congratulations. This was a job well done. Now, we just have to choose other subjects and repeat the procedure. And our mission will be an unqualified success."

"Are you going to make me seduce another boy?"

"No Karla. Your body needs to recover. We have other women on this ship besides you, you know."

"Thank the lord."

#

After his 'date' with the mystery woman, Jeffrey felt like a million bucks. Even though she'd disappeared without a trace, she'd given him the confidence to face his adolescent fears. The next time his clothes were stolen in gym class, he'd rushed the offender and pummeled him with a series of punches. The bully wasn't hurt, but he was a bit surprised.

"Hey Nerd-face, what's happening? Are you learning to stand up for yourself?" asked the bully, now lying prone on the floor.

Jeff calmly put on his clothes. "My name is Jeffrey. Not 'Nerd- face'. Jeffrey."

"OK, Jeffrey. Glad to see you've developed a little backbone. I'm proud of you. But the next time you punch me, you'll be picking your teeth up off the floor. Understood?"

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." The bully talked tough, but Jeffrey knew that the teasing was about to stop, or at least lessen.

Still, he didn't have a date for the next dance, scheduled for Saturday night. So when he left the gym, he approached Caroline Orderly.

"Caroline. Are you doing anything on Saturday night?"

"Yeah, I'm going to the dance with Freddy. What are you doing, little boy?"

"I'm not a little boy."

"Maybe, but you're also not my type," she said, skipping away to have a word with one of her girlfriends.

Jeffrey was prepared to spend another Saturday night at home, alone, when he spotted a girl he'd never seen before.

"Hi. I'm Jeffrey. Are you new at school?"

"Yeah. My parents just moved her from across town. My name's Conchita. Conchita Gomez."

"Are you Spanish or Mexican?"

"My Dad is of Mexican extraction. He moved to this country when he was just a boy."

"You don't look Mexican."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Neither. It's just a fact."

"Well, you don't look like a Nerd-face."

"Beg your pardon."

"That's what they all call you, isn't it. They call you 'Nerd- face'."

"I'm trying to get a new nick-name."

"How about 'Professor'. You look kind of like a professor. And everyone knows how smart you are."

"OK, call me 'Professor'."

"Are you doing anything Saturday night, Professor?"

"I'm looking for a date for the dance. Interested?"

"Definitely."

#

The mission looked like it was going to be a success after all. Every woman on the ship went down to earth to become impregnated by a suitable subject. Most of these subjects were as young as Jeffrey, but many of Karla's co-workers were intrigued rather than revolted by this fact.

"Well Lieutenant, what do you think? We've had twenty-five pregnancies and twenty-one viable embryos transported back to 1970. By 3677, those twenty-one embryos translate into over ten- thousand solid scientific minds."

"Great."

"Here in 1986, those embryos are all healthy sixteen-year-old kids now. We've been observing them. In fact, you may not be aware, but we time-jumped to the year 2000 to get a look at these children as adults. Two won Nobel prizes for various scientific disciplines. And one of the artistic types wrote a fairly revolutionary science fiction novel which sold millions of copies."

"When we get back home, you'll probably be in line for a promotion, Commander."

"From your mouth to our leader's ears, Karla."

"So, which kid is mine?"

"That information is available only on a need to know basis. And Lieutenant, you don't need to know. I don't want the woman on my staff developing unnecessary attachments to these children. They all die years before we're even born, so what's the point?"

"The point is--I'm curious. That's all. I'm certainly not going to transport myself to earth and try to raise the child myself"

"Well, maybe I'll tell you, eventually." The Commander was in one of his tight-lipped closed-mouthed moods and Karla knew she wasn't going to get any more information out of him. So, she decided to drop the issue, for the moment.

"OK--Commander. But--since we're here in '86 again, let's take another look at the first subject. My subject. Jeffrey."

"Sure. Still worried about the kid, huh?"

"A little."

"OK, let's tune him in."

The view screen showed Jeffrey at a high school event, dancing romantically with a lovely young girl his own age.

"He doesn't look like he's pining for you Karla," joked the Commander.

"He looks happy."

"Of course he looks happy. That's a pretty girl he's dancing with. In fact, she's one of our embryos. In later years, she goes to work with Jeffrey at Nasa. And eventually, he marries her."

"Before, you said he never got married."

"Before, Conchita Gomez didn't exist."

"OK. So, we've done well."

"Real well. There's only one slight problem which really doesn't affect anything so I'm not going to bother trying to correct it," said the Commander.

"What kind of problem?"

"You really don't want to know, believe me."

"Tell me please, Commander." Karla could see the Commander fighting with himself, trying to decide whether to share his little secret.

"OK, I'll tell you. But only because you're a senior officer. And this is not to be repeated. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"That girl your Jeffrey is dancing with, the one he eventually marries."

"Yes."

"Well, she's your child, Karla."

"What??"

"You heard me. Conchita Gomez is your child."

"So Jeffrey. . .Jeffrey marries . . ."

"His own daughter."



end