Stem Mother

"How could you do this to me?" Janet screamed, waving the incriminating DNA documents in front of her mother’s face. “How … could … you?!”

How could she? That was an important question in more ways than one. .

Janet stopped her pacing and stared at her mother, hoping to discern some rational explanation. Teresa Doerksen was the most brilliantly inventive scientist Janet knew, but even she could not accomplish the impossible.

Her mother sighed without shifting her position on the couch. She seemed surprisingly calm, as if she had been expecting this confrontation all her life.

"I was lonely. I wanted to be a mother."

"I always assumed I was the product of a one-night stand. But no — you had to take it to the next level and meddle with a scientific mystery nobody really understands. I've spent my whole life wondering who my father was, only to discover that there never was one! What am I going to tell Barry?"

"He doesn't have to know."

"He doesn't have to know that his future wife is a ... a ... clone?"

"Who knows? He might like the idea. No rogue DNA. If he looks at me, he’ll have a fairly accurate picture of what you will be like in twenty-six years. Some of your genes may have shut off or mutated, but those differences are unlikely to be significant.”

Janet collapsed on the couch beside her mother. She had expected evasion, tears, rationalizations, recriminations. But her mother showed no signs of regret or contrition whatsoever. If there was such a thing as a guilt gene, Teresa’s was inactive.

"So what do I call you now?" Janet asked. “Archetype? Creatrix? Evil scientist witch?” She had intended it to be a serious question, but she had trouble repressing a mischievous grin.

"Call me whatever you like,” Teresa answered. “No matter what you think of me, I am still your mother. A nucleus from one of my cells was inserted into an empty eggshell in a petrie dish and the embryo was implanted in my uterus six days later. I incubated you for nine months, gave birth to you, gave you the best life I could. There was no reason to get a man involved."

"How in the world did you manage to keep the whole thing under wraps? I would have expected a human clone to be headline news."

"It was a secret project my team and I dreamed up when I was a researcher with Futurevision Biolab.  In theory, human cloning was illegal, but there wasn’t really a clear law in place. My team and I believed that a spectacular success would sway public opinion to recognize cloning as a valid form of reproduction with many possible applications. We were convinced that our research proposal would be endorsed enthusiastically if we could provide evidence of viable pre-born clones.  We cloned six team members, three male, three female. I volunteered to be implanted with my own clone because I thought I would be the best choice of parent.  Unfortunately, the Futurevision Ethics Committee shot us down in flames.  The embryo hosts were ordered to abort immediately. I found an excuse to leave my job before I started to show.”

“You gave up your position as senior researcher – for me?”

Teresa smiled. “I never regretted it.”

 Janet’s rage dissolved and drained away. She had always believed that nothing was more important to her mother than her scientific work. Even though she had a menial job in an obscure laboratory, she was always speculating, studying, investigating. There was usually an experiment or two developing in their town house.

“Am I the only ... survior?”

“Two others who were not members of our research team continued their pregnancies to term. The Committee had no idea they existed.”

“Two others! I’m not the only one?"

"One has died. The other one seems to be thriving so far. His wife had a baby last month."

"So far!? What is my life expectancy? Dolly the sheep only lasted for six and a half years."

"Time will tell. We believed that we had solved the telomere issue. It's possible that you could live indefinitely."

“I could live indefinitely?” Janet shook her head. "I don't like the idea of being an experiment."

"Actually, dear, every baby is. We may think we know what's going to happen, but we can never be sure. Genes can switch on and off, randomly mutate, and even commit suicide. There is so much to explore in epigenetics."

"I could probably get you put in jail for this."

"You want to tell a judge that you are a clone and that your human dignity has been violated by my decision to let you live?"

"I'll have to sleep on that one. I like attention for my achievements, not for my weirdness."

"You have to admit, dear — I gifted you with some pretty good genes. I'm so proud of you for pursuing such a stellar career in biology. I'm sure you will fly higher than I ever managed."

Janet's brain was already leaping into the far-off future — a future where cloning was just as acceptable as IVF. A future where telomeres could be lengthened, life prolonged indefinitely. Janet Doerksen could become a scientific icon.

"How did you solve the telomere problem?" she asked.