Surrogate Page 3

  “Come again?” he asked, swallowing hard.

  “We’re going to have a baby and it’ll be ours, truly ours.”

  “Rebecca, are you feeling okay?” Tom asked, concern in his voice. “Did Dr. Tuber give you a new med?”

  As much as he loved seeing his wife so happy, it was a lie she was happy about; a delusion that could lead Rebecca down another path of depression, erasing any true progress she had made.

  Tom felt anger building inside him, like the pressure before an approaching storm. How could a doctor, a psychiatrist of all people, lie to his patient and fill her with a fantasy?

  “I’m not on any meds and I’m feeling better than okay, Tom,” she said, taking a sip of wine.

  He took a deep breath, then asked, “What did he say to you?”

  “I know,” she said. “I felt the same way you do now. You don’t believe it either, but wait until I tell you.”

  Tom felt his face grow warm as his cheeks flushed, trying to keep his anger in check. If the doctor suddenly appeared at the house, ringing the doorbell, Tom thought he would attack the man and strangle him to death.

  “Please,” he said, gesturing for her to go on, and she did.

  Dr. Tuber had presented Rebecca with what seemed like an impossible idea. He asked if she’d heard of cloning. With his question, Dr. Tuber had ignited a spark of interest in Rebecca’s brain. She began to perk up, the veil of gloom around her seeming to dissipate with each passing moment, like a ship approaching land during a fog-filled night.

  “We’ve come very far in the world of science,” the doctor had said. “What you might read about in the newspaper or on the Internet is not accurate. Science is far more advanced in certain areas than the public is led to believe.”

  Rebecca had sat on the edge of her seat, unblinking and completely entranced by the man’s words. She was a starved lion, the doctor’s words like pieces of fresh gazelle meat, and she couldn’t gobble down enough.

  “Sheep, dogs, cats, mice, deer, and an assortment of other animals, as well as insects, have been cloned.” The doctor let that sit for a few moments. Rebecca’s eyes had grown wider, begging for the man to continue.

  “The next logical thing to duplicate would be…?” he asked.

  “People,” Rebecca said.

  “Exactly,” the doctor had affirmed, sitting up and grinning. “People.”

  Rebecca, for the first time since meeting the man, had seen he was passionate, excited. This was something he’d truly believed in.

  “I ask you Rebecca…what if you could have that baby you so desperately want?”

  “Please, Doctor, don’t fuck with me.”

  “I’m not,” he’d insisted, and told her to look him in the eyes; see if what he was saying wasn’t true.

  “What are you telling me, Doctor?” Rebecca had leaned forward, her bottom almost off the chair, eager to hear the answer.

  “I can give you your baby. Give you back the life you’ve always wanted.”

  Tom sat dumbfounded and frustrated while listening to his wife’s story. He wanted to burst, to jump up and shake the fool out of his wife. He wanted to tell her how ridiculous her story sounded. How could she believe such a crock of shit?

  As gently as he could, through gritted teeth, he said, “Honey, I don’t think we can rely on what that doctor said. He’s a sick man and we need to report him.”

  “I felt the same way, but he has an associate that has helped numerous people in our situation. He made us an appointment with a doctor friend of his to discuss”—she paused, and looked around, making sure no one was watching or listening—“cloning.”

  Tom had to admit, even as an avid science-fiction fan, her story sounded utterly absurd. Why would a reputable doctor, a psychiatrist, entertain such things? Was there actual merit to what Rebecca was saying? Or had she completely gone off her rocker?

  “Tom,” Rebecca said, her face serious, the glow of happiness gone, “if this doesn’t work, I don’t think I’ll survive.” Brightening again, she said, “I have hope now, and I only ask that you give what I’m telling you a chance. Do it for my sake. Let’s meet this doctor, the man Dr. Tuber says can help us.”

  Tom felt stuck. If he went against his wife, he felt he’d be doing her justice with keeping her grounded in the real world, as horrible as it was for her. On the other hand, he could travel down this otherworldly road, seeing his wife like she used to be: happy. But how long would it last? And then, after having her hopes raised to soaring heights, her crash would be catastrophic.

  Tom couldn’t believe he was about to agree to her wishes. The whole thing was crazy.

  He looked at his wife, seeing how normal, how vibrant, she appeared. Then his mind took over, showing him an image of her with wrists sliced open and a pool of blood around her dying body, the fantasy over. He felt anger toward the doctor and Rebecca. How could she allow herself to believe such a charade? But he knew how and why: she was vulnerable. A wreck.

  His heart took over, blocking his brain’s commands. “Okay,” he said, feeling the pit of his stomach drop.

  Rebecca clapped her hands spastically like a seal performing a trick. “Yay,” she hollered. “I love you so much, you know that?”

  Tom forced a smile, feeling cold and alone inside. “Yes, I do.”

  They were climbing a hill. A steep hill. He just hoped that when they reached the top, it wasn’t a cliff waiting for them to fall off.

  Tom had never considered killing anyone before, but if his wife slipped into an irreversible depression, he might not simply report the doctor to the police, but put a bullet in the man’s head.

  9

  Shortly after arriving at Dr. Kotrich’s office, the cloning doctor recommended by Dr. Tuber, Tom and Rebecca were required to go through a variety of security protocols before seeing the man.

  Tom rolled his eyes upon hearing that he and his wife needed to be searched, Rebecca giving him a look that said, “If you don’t go along with this, you’ll be a sorry son-of-a-bitch when we get home” but then his trepidation about the whole procedure being nothing more than a ridiculous farce began to rise even more. Why would the doctor go through such severe security measures if what Rebecca said wasn’t true?

  The security check was quick, noninvasive, but thorough, and soon the couple found themselves sitting in chairs across from the man they had come to see.

  The doctor was apologetic about the full-body pat-downs and the various electronic scanning equipment that was used, but all applicants to the Agency, as it was called, were subjected to such searches.

  “You both understand the need for discretion here? Absolute secrecy?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Rebecca answered.

  The doctor wore a white lab coat and sat behind a large Victorian-style desk, looking like nothing more than a big kid. He was a small man, had intense, beady little eyes, and a bad comb-over.

  Tom remained skeptical about whether the doctor could indeed perform the cloning of another human being, but was nervous nonetheless. He chalked up his uneasiness to the intense security check, imagining most people, save his wife—who appeared excited and eager—would feel the same.

  Dr. Kotrich smiled, interlocking his digits on the desk’s shiny and uncluttered surface. “First, let me start off by introducing myself. My name is Dr. Kotrich.”

  Rebecca cut in, saying, “I’m Rebecca Hardwick and this is my husband Tom.” She reached over and rubbed Tom’s arm affectionately.

  Dr. Kotrich nodded. “Yes, I know all about the both of you, and it is a pleasure to meet you both.” He paused, smiling; his gaze moving from Tom to Rebecca and back again. “I don’t like beating around the bush, so I’m going to get right down to it.

  “You would not be here if you were not deemed acceptable to the program. I, and the others at the facility, know all there is to know about you two and from that, plus what Dr. Tuber had to say, we found you to be exceptional candidates.”
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  Rebecca went to speak, wanting to let out the joy of hearing they had been accepted, but the doctor held up a hand. “Please, Mrs. Hardwick, let me finish, then I’ll answer all your questions.

  “We’ll be taking cells from Rebecca’s body and using them to create another version of Rebecca. A clone. An exact clone.”

  Tom felt as if someone had slammed a sledgehammer into his chest. It was hard to draw breath. He glanced at his wife and saw that she was entranced by the doctor’s words. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. He turned back to the doctor.

  “From that point, using growth-accelerating agents, the clone will be aged to adulthood; somewhere to the equivalent of twenty-three to twenty-eight years of age.

  “Then using your sperm, Mr. Hardwick, we’ll inseminate the clone and allow—under the most crucial care—the development of your unborn child. In turn, giving you a baby made from your exact DNA and no different than if it had come from yourself, Rebecca. Of course the Agency is aware of your inability to reproduce. Medically it’s an impossibility and it’s of record, so you’ll have to pass your child off as being adopted. You two will be the only ones, besides myself and Dr. Tuber, who know the truth. You’ll have all the documentation you need from a legitimate adoption agency.”

  When the doctor stopped speaking, a quiet, empty void filled the room. Tom felt as if he’d left his body, the doctor’s utterly preposterous words still sinking into his mind. His left arm pained him, and he wondered if he was having a heart attack, but then saw that Rebecca was squeezing it. She was smiling, tears of happiness trailing down her cheeks.

  The doctor, the mad scientist, was sitting up straight, his chest out and his face caught in a shit-eating grin.

  Tom opened his mouth to speak, to tell the doctor and his wife they were both crazy and needed help, but all that came out was a squeak.

  “Doctor,” Rebecca said, “is this really possible?”

  “Absolutely,” he assured her. “The process is practically routine now, with many fine couples like yourselves enjoying beautiful and healthy children.”

  “Did you hear that, Tom?” Rebecca asked, turning to look at him.

  Tom had heard all of it. He couldn’t believe the scam these people had going. The scam of all scams.

  “Let me guess,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. “All you need is money wired to an offshore account and we’ll have our baby in no time?”

  “Tom,” Rebecca scolded.

  “No, it’s okay,” Dr. Kotrich told her. “Your husband’s not the first person to be skeptical. In fact, it’s usually the husband who comes in with a clearer head and we would never allow this decision to be made by a single person. It’s easy to see this all as science fiction. Nonsense. A scam. Am I correct, Mr. Hardwick?”

  “You’re damn right.”

  “The only thing I can do now is give you my word and the fact that I came highly recommended from Dr. Tuber. After the child is born, we’ll perform a DNA test. You can’t argue with science.

  “I’m a doctor open for business,” he went on. “Yes, cloning is a private, unadvertised part of my practice, but I’ve had my doors open for years and am highly respected in my field. This isn’t some black-market, third-world operation. And I’ve got a lot to lose should I try scamming people.”

  The man made a good point. It wasn’t like traveling to a developing country and using who-the-hell-knows-where-you-received-your-degree doctors to perform cutting-edge—hell, futuristic—practices. Both Dr. Tuber and this man were reputable in their fields. Tom had checked. But this was all too much.

  “Is this…legal?” Tom asked, already knowing the answer. He wasn’t sure why he even bothered to ask, but he was in a fighting mood.

  Dr. Kotrich sighed, his smile faltering. “Mr. Hardwick,” he said. “Legal and illegal are terms designed by lawmakers. Yes, we have laws for a reason and most need to be followed for society to function. We are in a time of great change and significant scientific progress. Bureaucrats often worry about change, detest it in fact. They loathe the unknown and the things they themselves are curious about, for they want the one thing that matters to them most: control.”

  “And how much is all this going to cost?” Something as advanced as cloning another human being would surely cost a lot of money, a small fortune. And that was something neither he nor his wife had. And if the procedure, experiment, whatever it was, was too cheap, then Tom would know it was all bullshit.

  “One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

  Tom paused, then stood to leave. “Well,” he said, “I guess that about does it then. We certainly can’t afford a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Thank you for your time, Doctor.” He reached down to take his wife’s hand, but Rebecca pulled away. Her eyes were embers of fury, shrinking his soul to the size of a flea.

  “Excuse us, Doctor,” Rebecca said, standing. “I need to speak with my husband for a moment. In private.”

  The man smiled, his perfectly white teeth gleaming. Tom wondered if the guy somehow grew them in his cloning facility and then implanted them into his mouth. “Certainly,” he said. “Use the conference room. It’s just down the hall to the right.”

  Sitting across from each other, a large glass countertop table between them and extending into the distance like a runway, Rebecca just stared at him.

  Tom knew speaking first would only lead to her shushing him so he remained quiet, looking at the sparsely furnished room.

  “You didn’t even give this a chance, did you?” Rebecca said, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You were looking for it to be bullshit and when it wasn’t, you looked for a way out and found one.”

  She was right. Tom had come into this with his mind already made up. He had no intention of going through with something as preposterous as cloning.

  “Rebecca,” he said. “This is all just crazy and the cost is obscene.”

  “We’re talking about a baby,” Rebecca said, slamming a fist onto the table. “Our baby.”

  “Even if what the doctor says is true and we could afford it, how would we explain how we conceived?”

  “First off, we can take a second mortgage on the house and use some of our savings. We’re both young and your company is taking off.” Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Rebecca cut him off. “And we don’t have to tell anyone. We’ll say the baby was adopted. You heard Dr. Kotrich, he takes care of all the documentation.”

  Tom rolled his eyes in frustration and spun around in his chair, facing away from Rebecca. Hearing her sob, he spun back around to face her.

  Tears were running down her cheeks, and he caught a glimpse of the woman he’d been living with recently: a depressed, almost catatonic, zombie.

  “I don’t think I can do this again,” she said. “Go through losing another chance at having a baby.”

  Tom reached forward and took his wife’s hands into his own. “We’ll adopt,” he said, softly.

  She didn’t pull away. She didn’t look up, just continued to sob as she spoke. “And how are we supposed to do that? You were at the adoption agency, you heard what the woman said. That with your past, your fucked-up record, it would be a long shot, and if and when they did get back to us, there would be plenty of other couples with clean records that would come first.” She pulled her hands away, slowly, bringing them to rest in her lap.

  He could see her body trembling, the ugliness of despair returning, showing itself like a ghoul. A woman with no hope and no desire.

  He loved her more than anything and would do anything for her, and he didn’t want to see her in pain. He was her protector, her partner, and he needed to give her what she needed.

  “Okay,” he blurted. “Let’s do it.”

  Rebecca, who had almost curled into a ball, uncoiled. Peering up through red-veined eyes, she asked, “You mean it?”

  “Yes.”

  Rebecca started crying, bawling hysterically, but now they were tears of joy.

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bsp; 10

  The procedure had gone well, as Dr. Kotrich knew it would. He had performed seventy-five human duplications with only a 1% initial failure rate, where the embryo refused to grow naturally and other, more drastic methods were needed.

  The cloning facility was located in upstate New York on the outskirts of the small town of Crown Point, a three-hour drive from Dr. Kotrich’s general practice. The area consisted of farmland and pine forest and was part of the federally protected Adirondack Mountain range. Dr. Kotrich had purchased over a hundred acres of land.

  Two barns and a colonial farmhouse were the only buildings on the property, each kept in immaculate condition. The barns were empty. The house was used as a front—some of the guards, usually ex-military, used it as a makeshift barracks while keeping watch. The entrance to the cloning facility was located in the basement.

  The compound was built fifty feet below ground and consisted of six levels, each patrolled by security teams. Guards on floors six through three carried batons and Tasers, while those on the second and first floors carried sidearms and submachine guns. Levels five and six were where the clone rooms were located.

  A week after meeting with the Hardwicks and collecting the necessary materials—cells and sperm—Dr. Kotrich began the process.

  Clone 76, Rebecca’s clone, was grown in a lab at the Agency, and in six months’ time was a fully developed human, aged to approximately thirty-six years. Nine months later, after being inseminated with Tom’s sperm, Clone 76 gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

  11

  “She’s beautiful,” Rebecca said, staring into Anna’s blue eyes. She rocked the baby gently before placing her back in the crib. Tom stepped up to his wife and placed an arm around her. Together they listened to their child coo softly. It was the first night the baby was in their house.

  They named their daughter after Rebecca’s mother, who had passed away when Rebecca was twenty-six. The woman had begged Rebecca to give her a grandchild, but she was too busy with her career. Looking at Anna brought a tinge of despair at the relationship that would never be, but as time went on she would heal, knowing her mother would see Anna from her place in the heavens.