Origin by Jessica Khoury Read Free Book Online

organicreproduction. Forty years ago, they began using in vitro fertilization, which apparently made the whole process run smoother. But until they discover a way to successfully nurture an embryo outside the womb, there will continue to be mothers in Little Cam.
    I’m glad they haven’t found a way to replicate gestation yet. I like knowing I came from real, breathing human beings and not from some glass vial in a lab. Though I never knew my grandparents, their names are all on the genealogy chart I showed to Dr. Klutz. It’s my lineage. My family tree.
    If you were to trace the lines of the chart, starting with my parents and moving up one and over two, you’d find Alex and Marian. The ones who died too young.
    I think about Alex and Marian as I stab at my shrimp. They were the only ones of their generation—which included my grandparents and Uncle Antonio’s parents—who opted not to use in vitro fertilization. Unlike their contemporaries, they chose one another as lifelong companions and wanted to reproduce naturally. I’ve heard Aunt Nénine talk about it to Aunt Brigid, about how they
loved
each other. I study my parents, wondering why they never fell in love. They hardly speak to one another, and I’m surprised they’re even sitting at the same table. At best, their relationship could be described as tolerant.
    Alex and Marian left Little Cam together over thirty years ago, and they never came back. I don’t know where they were trying to go or why…but I do know they never made it.
    I’m told the scientists discussed starting from scratch to replace that generational line, which would have meantbringing in sixteen new couples and starting to treat them with Immortis. Since at that time no one knew if the Immortis project would even succeed, they decided to wait until I was born. And they’re still waiting, to see what I’ll become.
    To see if I can pass the Wickham tests.
    “Dr. Fields got in trouble today for telling me about San Francisco,” I say.
    My parents stop eating and look up at me, then around the room. We are still alone. Mother looks mildly angry, but Uncle Will smiles.
    “That’s a city,” he says. “Dr. Marshall told me about it once. He said it’s in the United States in America.”
    “United States
of
America,” Mother corrects, and I’m surprised that she knows that. Out of all of us, she is the one
least
interested in what lies outside the fence. As the top mathematician in Little Cam, she is completely absorbed in her work and often says that numbers are the same no matter where you are, be it in the jungle or on the moon.
    “I
thought
it was a city!” I say to Uncle Will. “It must have even more people than Little Cam.” I picture another Little Cam with all the same buildings in different places.
    “She shouldn’t have said anything,” my mother mutters. “I don’t like the looks of that Fields woman. She’s wild and unpredictable.”
    “She’s not a math problem. You can’t subtract the parts of her you don’t like.” Even as I say it, I wonder why I’m defending Dr. Klutz. I don’t like the looks of her either.
    Uncle Will laughs at that. Mother frowns now and stabs her knife in his direction. “And
you
shouldn’t be sayinganything either. Paolo won’t like it.” She looks around again. The cook is putting out a bowl of hot dinner rolls, but he’s too far across the room to hear our conversation.
    “Why shouldn’t he say anything?” I challenge. “Maybe I
want
to know about San Francisco.”
    “You don’t need to worry about anything except your studies,” Mother says firmly. “When the time comes, you have to be ready to take over Dr. Alvez’s work.”
    “Uncle Paolo’s not that old. He’ll be here for years and years.”
    They are training me to eventually assume Uncle Paolo’s role as director, so that Uncle Timothy will never have to bring another head scientist to Little Cam again. I’ll be in charge. Forever. Fulfilling the