(A short story)
It was midnight.
And all was quiet inside the Medical Center. Unlike its heyday years, the hospital now resembled a huge, haunted monolith with empty corridors and rooms, populated only by the center’s skeleton staff. This was completely understandable. People rarely got sick nowadays.
Footsteps echoed in the silence. A petite woman in a laboratory coat was strolling down the hallways. It was Dr. Julie Villa and she was simply doing the rounds, passing time away by walking down the hospital’s rooms and chatting with one of her associates every now and then. She was beautiful and, despite her newly-formed wrinkles brought about by age, one could still say she has good genes.
She looked at her watch. 12 midnight. It was time to go. Her husband would be waiting for her at home. She sighed and started for the exit. She was tired, simply because, save for the occasional accidents, she has had no opportunity to practice her profession.
She was an obstetrician after all. But she has not delivered a baby in over ten years.
As if on cue, the emergency doors slammed open. Paramedics rushed inside, bringing with them, on a stretcher, a pregnant woman in labor. She was accompanied by her bespectacled and teary-eyed husband and a swarm of police and health officials. With them was Lt. Jonell Casibang, a tall, burly man and a family friend, who immediately approached the doctor.
“No time for pleasantries, Jul. This woman was brought to the precinct by her husband”, explained Lt. Casibang. “Apparently, the husband tried to deliver the baby himself but could not. Are you still up to it?”
“Sure, I’ll do what I can”, replied Dr. Villa, her voice quivering for a moment (she would have wanted a refresher course by now). Walking down to the delivery room, where the woman was waiting and in pain, the doctor looked back on how this peculiar instance came to be.
2020. PGD. Pre-implantation Genetic Diagnosis became the buzzword of the year. Scientists had found a cheaper, more effective way to not only screen the genome of a human embryo for genetic abnormalities but, more importantly, to tweak it to remove these defects. Suddenly, with this method, diagnosis translated to intervention and, ultimately, modification. Of course, ethical issues abounded but the promise of the new technology proved irresistible. Soon, politicians harked about it, calling it the start of a new age. Lobbyists began wooing Congress to shortcut protocol and allow experiments on “at risk” human embryos. Activists joined in the fray, heralding it as the beginning of a new human race.
The promise was simple and true: Embryo-state genetic modifications will usher in an era where humans will be unsusceptible to diseases and, possibly, even death.
Soon, opposition ceased and new laws ratified. It became standard practice for doctors to alter an embryo’s genetic make-up. Third-world nations greatly benefited, finally freed from the shackles of pharmaceutical companies. Inevitably, parents began clamoring for more drastic procedures, involving “improving” their offspring’s traits.
Designer babies became the new norm. Despite this, the world was not concerned. It was simply happy. For three generations, everyone on earth was beautiful. No paraplegics, no patients, no more incurable diseases, no more pain. Just a wonderful utopia.
But that was before.
The doctor had started scrubbing her hands diligently, all the while staring at the mirror in front of her. Though she felt haggard, her face did not show any trace of it. She had a well-formed nose, good spotless skin and a pair of fiery brown eyes. She was beautiful and she would have been more conceited about that fact had she been ignorant of what she really was.
She does not bear any semblance to her parents or more specifically, their “imperfections”. She is a designer baby, like the rest of the world now, engineered from birth to live life equipped with the best physical qualities. Her parents, like every other parent then, endeavored to have a pretty, and smart, child. And, like everyone else, they were especially keen in modifying their offspring.
At this thought, she wringed her hands especially tight and donned on her gown. “Now look what you’ve done to us”, she muttered.
Dr. Villa entered the operating room and was greeted by a scene similar to an inquisition. The woman was restrained to the hospital bed with leather strips. She was sweating, face contorted, due to her extended labor. Encircling her was a throng of grim-faced policemen touting pistols and batons. Anonymous interns hiding beneath surgical masks tinkered with instruments across the room. What they could not hide though was the look of apprehension and fear in their eyes.
“Let’s do this”, said Dr. Villa, unfazed by the show of force. With a renewed coolness, she began giving out instructions and assisted the woman in giving birth.
Dr. Villa has been married for twenty years. No children. Just her husband’s companionship. Early in her marriage, she would have wanted it this way. Having no child meant no complications and her life was complicated enough. She and her husband have had a rough start. Fights between the couple broke out ever so often, both were not sure their marriage would last. Having no child was part of her exit plan.
Then the tragedies came and finally, the ban. Governments made it illegal for anyone to produce offspring. Even the Catholic Church began advocating contraception and sterilization for everyone’s safety.
It was then that the couple realized what they will be missing: they could never raise kids, let alone start a family, for a very long time. The specter of this possibility surprisingly rekindled their marriage. Realizing they only had each other from now on, earlier animosity turned to genuine love.
But sometimes, even love cannot replace a woman’s eventual desire to be a mother. And with deep regret, Dr. Villa nursed this desire in her heart.
She could still remember the scenes vividly. Always, whenever there was a newborn child, relatives would cause a flurry, touching, fondling, cooing the infant. The mother, carrying her child, was always the star of the show. As a doctor, she was always there to watch those scenes. She was always there in the many occasions that her patients would finally go home to be greeted by loved ones. For Dr. Villa, such scenes of familial affection never failed to make her smile.
Many times, she had relived each scene, this time, picturing herself as the mother with her newborn. For every scene, she would always imagine doing the same thing: stroke her lovely child’s forehead while singing a lullaby. Each time, she hoped that picture would become a reality.
However, the ban took longer than expected. Governments assured their people that the ban would be lifted after two years. Now, after a decade, it was still in place. Soon, there were no more babies. The babies she delivered a long time ago where now aging teenagers. Formerly an obstetrician, she was now relegated to leading the hospital’s staff. “Welcome to a world without children”, she thought.
Finally, it was over. Cutting its umbilical cord, Dr. Villa placed the baby in its incubator. Then, everyone rushed the baby to the nursery, leaving the mother behind. Dr. Villa stared at the infant. Its skin still glistening, its eyes closed, the baby looked like the perfect angel and seemed so fragile. The white gleam of teeth showed between its lips but the doctor still found her self asking: What could possibly be wrong with this child?
They’ve reached the “nursery”, a dimly lit room with bulletproof fiber-glass walls on all sides. Operatives in heavy suits awaited them and the baby. Dr. Villa placed the incubator in the center of the room. Everyone left right after, leaving the operatives to do their work. A crowd of doctors, interns and policemen were now standing outside the nursery, looking through its glass walls. The crowd simply stood outside waiting, as if in a state of vigil, both anticipating and dreading what will happen next.
Everyone held their breath. Only the ticking of the clock in the far end of the corridor disturbed the loud silence. Five minutes passed.
Dr. Villa glanced around. At a distance, she saw the mother, fresh from labor, struggling to get past her guards. She was screaming, begging them to let her see her baby. The police would not budge and were preventing her from coming out of her room. Dr. Villa saw the husband, trying to embrace his wife from behind, stopping her.
Dr. Villa shifted her attention back to the nursery. Ten minutes had passed.
The operatives started looking at each other. The baby remained perfectly still. Now, everyone began inching closer to the fiberglass walls. Clearly, something must be odd here. Dr. Villa noticed this and also took a closer peek as well. Could this be happening right now? Could this moment possibly be the end of a long nightmare?
Fifteen minutes passed. Still nothing had happened. Finally, an operative smiled at the crowd outside the nursery. And, like a virus, smiles began creeping up on everybody’s faces. This might just be too good to be true.
An operative was ordered to get the baby from its cradle. “Please, let nothing happen”, whispered Dr. Villa. As the operative now gingerly walked towards the cradle, Dr. Villa watched the baby intently for any adverse movement.
Just then, she saw a twitch, normally imperceptible but she knew it was there. “Oh no”, she muttered. She tried to believe she was simply imagining but she knew. Alarmed, Dr. Villa stood, frozen, as the operative gathered the baby in his arms.
In a flash, all hell broke loose.
An hour had passed. Lt. Casibang and Dr. Villa were now sitting on bleacher seats outside the mother’s room. Each cradling a steaming mug of coffee, both peered at the room, where a police officer was reading indictments against the mother and her husband. Puffy-eyed from too many tears, the mother stared blankly at the police officer. The husband appeared dazed.
“They are supposed to get ten years for violating the ban. But they can just pay the bail and go home immediately”, said Lt. Casibang.
“You think that’s fair?” asked Dr. Villa.
“Professionally speaking, they ought to face the judge. But personally? After what they went through? I think that’s enough punishment for the two of them. Still, I’ll be keeping a close eye on them just in case.”
“You know what made them do this, Jon?”
“Based on what we know, the woman lost a child during pregnancy. That was two months before they enacted the ban. Apparently, after a decade, she might have wanted another one and her husband was all too willing to play along.”
“You sure know how to make a convenient explanation. Did both know of the consequences?”
“Yes, I believe so. But they probably thought they could get away with it, that the baby, against all odds, will be normal. Or so they thought.”
“Lt. Casibang gently sipped his coffee and continued. “I don’t know about you doc. But I think what happened awhile ago can be considered good news. It took more than twenty minutes since birth before the transformation. A world record, you might say. It must mean the vaccines they keep prodding us with are working. We are getting well.”
“But not getting well enough.”
“Yes. But still, it is not bad to be optimistic nowadays. There are signs of hope everywhere we look.”
“Things can still change, Jon. We are making progress. But we have to be realistic. This reversal of everything we have done to ourselves will take generations, not years.”
An uncomfortable silence reigned for a few minutes.
The lieutenant stared at his mug. “Last night, a funny thing happened. Carla approached me, pointed a finger, and looked at me straight in the eye, saying: For Christmas, I want a baby brother!”
He let out a hollow laugh. “Imagine that, my eleven-year old kid, ordering me around! But, of course, she has been demanding the same thing ever since she was seven. Wish she would forget that request though.”
Because it breaks my heart.
Dr. Villa assumed this following statement but the lieutenant simply let out a very long sigh. She got the signal and changed the topic.
“How are your men? Will they be all right?”
“They will be. Gani suffered a big gash on his neck, right next to his artery. But he’ll live. Still, it was a close call. I could have lost someone tonight. Or today.”
Dr. Villa looked at her watch again. The dawn is coming. It was 3:00 AM.
“You better be going home now”, the lieutenant quipped.
“No. I have to do a post-mortem on the baby. I can’t leave yet.” Dr. Villa collected herself and started for the morgue.
Ten years ago, the world admitted there was a problem. After tampering with the human genome for three generations, scientists had unavoidably unleashed a Pandora’s Box. New mutations had occurred among newly-born babies. Some have called these mutations as quantum leaps of evolution but for the many, they were simply monstrosities. And the most horrific mutation yet was what Dr. Villa witnessed in the nursery.
As the operative was holding it, the baby suddenly lunged at the operative’s throat and sank its mouth into it. Commotion reigned as the operatives tried to rip the baby’s mouth off their colleague’s throat. By the time they had, chunks of flesh, a pool of blood, and a dying man was sprawled on the nursery floor.
Under the harsh light of the fluorescent bulbs, the doctor finally had a good look at the baby, spatters of blood still clinging to the side of its mouth. Gone was its semblance of fragility. What was in front of her now was a dreadful specimen. It had overdeveloped, bulging muscles for arms and legs. Its mouth featured a daunting array of razor-sharp teeth.
The twitch was the signal. Back in the nursery, the baby moved because its muscles were now starting to develop and grow at lightning-fast rates. The white gleam of teeth Dr. Villa saw earlier were already fully-grown teeth developed even before the baby was born.
Reports had finally revealed what was happening and investigations had already explained incidents such as these. Recent mutations have caused babies to suddenly become voracious cannibals. Infantile reflexes, such as suckling and eating, have been transformed to bestial instincts as infants, in a matter of minutes, become mindless, eating machines fearfully equipped with the body, and the mouthpiece, for the job.
After months of searching for an answer, scientists finally concluded that all modified humans, ergo, almost everyone in the world, were at risk of producing mutant offspring. Hence, the ban was set in place until a cure was found.
“This must be the price,” said Dr. Villa, still looking intently at the baby. It was pathetic, not even an hour old and it had to be killed. There were three bullet shot wounds in its chest and abdomen. Pitiful, little creature.
Slowly, Dr. Villa gathered the dead baby in her arms. She squatted at one corner of the morgue and looked out at the room’s single window. It was now early morning and soon, rays of sunlight would come through that single window. The baby at her bosom, in the state of rigor mortis, was cold and as stiff as ice.
She stroked the baby’s forehead and began singing a lullaby.
Note: This story was my entry for the 3rd Philippine Graphic Fiction Awards last year (Until now, I don’t know if anybody won in that contest. I’ve been trying to search the Internet for results to no avail). I actually thought up this story purely by accident. I really wanted to join the contest but I couldn’t think of anything to write, let alone fantasy. Good thing I asked Kuya Dom for some advice and he texted me some notable supernatural beings from popular Filipino folklore. That’s how I got started with the story.
As for why I chose the name Julie, I promised a college classmate that I would write a story with her name on it. I guess now, she wouldn’t be too flattered if she manages to read this.
To sum it up, I believe there’s really nothing new with what I had to say in this story. Reading it again, I think I unwittingly borrowed the storyline from some video game and just transplanted it here. Despite this realization, I hope this was as fun to read as it was fun for me to write. Good night.
