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I keep thinking of Da
Diane lacks Da
Well, it hasn’t. Not for us.
I see her as something special. Not a new person, no, but another reflection of myself. Another Da
Yes. Da
Think of her as he. It is the quality of Da
I ca
We enjoy our physical roles as we have never enjoyed them before; at least I know I do; but deep inside is a sense of — loss. I think I loved my Da
With Da
With Diane, it is different.
I feel limited.
And in a sense, I am. I am limited to the role given me by fate, by gender. My sex is the one thing about myself I ca
At least, that’s how I perceive it.
The relationship is not unenjoyable. Indeed, it is the most joyous of all. But still, there is that sense of loss…
We have been together how long?
Months, it must be.
We have a home on the edge of prehistory, a villa on the shores of what someday will be called Mission Bay. It’s a sprawling mansion on a deserted coast, a self-contained unit; it has to be, because we brought it back to the year 100,000 b.c. A honeymoon cottage for the outcasts of time.
The sea washes blue across yellow sands. Seagulls wheel and dive, cawing raucously. The sun blazes bright in an azure sky. And the only footprints are ours.
We live a strange kind of life in our timeless world.
Loneliness is unknown to us; yet neither of us ever lacks for privacy. We see each other only when both of us want it. Never can either force himself on the other. That’s part of being a time traveler.
I ca
Should either of us need to be alone, we simply bounce to a different point in time. (I have seen the ruins of this mansion standing forlorn and alone, swept by the sands and washed by the sea, while the sun lies orange in the west. These walls will be dust by the time of Christ.)
Returning, I am in her arms again. I am there because I want to be there.
She vanishes too, but only momentarily; she returns in a different dress and hair style. I know she has been gone longer than I have seen, but I know she comes back to me with her desire at its fullest. I open my arms.
We have never had an argument. It is impossible when either of you can disappear at the instant of displeasure. All of our moments are happy ones. Life with Diane is almost idyllic.
Almost.
Today she told me she was pregnant.
And I’m not sure how I feel about that. There is a sense of joy and wonder in me — but I am also disturbed. Jealous that something else, someone else, can make her glow with such happiness. The look on her face as she told me — I have seen that intensity only in her climax.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I am bothered that I ca
And yet, I’m happy. Happy for her, happy for me. I don’t know why, but I know that this baby must be something special.
It must be.
The baby proves something that I have suspected for a long time. My life is out of control. I am no longer the master of my own destiny.
There is little that I can do with this situation. Except run from it.
Or can I… ?
Being pregnant is a special kind of time.
Within me there is life, helpless and small; I can feel it move. I can feel it grow. I wait eagerly for the day of its entrance into the world so I can hold it and touch it, love it and feed it, hold it to my breasts.
This is a special baby. It will be. I know it will be. I am filled with wonder. I see my body in the mirror, swollen and beautiful. I run my hands across my bulging stomach in awed delight. This is something Do
Oh, there is discomfort too, more than I had expected — the difficulties in bending over and walking, the back pains and the troubles in the bathroom, the loginess and the nausea — but it’s worth it. When I think of the small beautiful wonder which will soon burst into my life, the whole world turns pink and giggly.
I feel that I’m on the threshold of something big.
The baby was born this morning. It is a boy. A beautiful, handsome, healthy boy. I am delighted. And disappointed. I had wanted a girl.
A girl …
In 2013 the first genetic-control drug was put on the market. It allowed a man and woman to choose the sex of their unborn child.
In 2035 in-utero genetic tailoring became practical. The technique allowed a woman to determine which of several available chromosomes in the egg and sperm cells would function as dominants. The only condition was that the tailoring must be done within the first month of pregnancy.
In 2110 extra-utero genetic tailoring was widespread. The process allowed the parent to program the shape of his offspring. A computer-coded germ plasma could be built, link by amino-acid link, implanted into a genetically neutral egg, then carefully cultured and developed, eventually to be implanted inside a womb, either real or artificial.