Marc Audet

Surfing the Gene Pool

Peter and Mary had wanted children ever since they were married five years ago.

“This is the year,” said Mary, sipping her seaweed-berry smoothie. “You just got a big promotion! The house is all fixed up! I’m so ready to be a mom!”

Peter remembered all the times they submitted their applications, only to be priced out of the market or added to a waiting list. He didn’t want to let Mary down again. This time, he had the means. They could afford the children of their dreams, the children they deserved.

“We can try again now if you want,” said Peter. Mary went into the family room and turned on her laptop. He sat next to her. She clicked the bookmark to the FamilyGenePool.gov website.

“We need to update our numbers,” said Mary, reading the line labeled Total Household Income. “Should we include bonuses and the value of our stock options?”

Peter was confident about the bonuses. The stock options were beyond his control. “Let’s include the bonuses, that should be enough. I’ll get the numbers.” He opened the HR app on his phone. She typed in the value and clicked Save.

On the Genetic Specifications page, Mary reviewed the information.

“You still okay with a girl?”

“Yes. Blond hair, blue eyes.”

Mary clicked to Higher Order Options. “Whoa! They totally redesigned this page. Look at all these new options, Height, Eye-Hand Coordination, Cardiovascular Stamina.”

“They can do all of this?” Peter had read about gene splicing and genetic engineering, but that was a few years ago, when gene technology seemed like science fiction. He read the screen. In the page header, there was a panel called Life Expectations with two numbers, Life Success Rating and Genetic Cost Index. Every few seconds, the Genetic Cost Index refreshed itself.

“What’s all this?” asked Mary.

“I’m not sure. Let’s add a few options. Click Eye-Hand.”

Mary selected Above Average. The Life Success Rating changed by a few points and the Genetic Cost Index went up twenty thousand dollars. She adjusted the Top Percentile value from fifty to five and saw the cost double. “I get it. If we want a star athlete, it will cost us more.”

“Let’s add Math Ability and Music Talent,” said Peter. Mary clicked Above Average for each. The cost nearly tripled and a red warning label appeared: Genetic Combination in High Demand.

“I see what’s going on. Try Average for Math Ability.” The cost went down, and the warning label disappeared. “It’s like an auction,” he said. 

Mary stopped smiling. “So, if we want smart, talented kids who can play piano, excel in math and play college basketball, the price goes through our solar-powered roof!” 

“Especially if we want what everybody else wants for their kids.”

“So, what do we do now? If we pay upfront for a high performer, we won’t be able to afford college later. If we settle for an average little girl, she’ll just be one more lonely face in the crowd.” Mary felt a tear sliding down her cheek.

Up to now, the Gene Pool had been pretty simple to use. Select the standard traits: sex, hair and eye color. Clip out any cancer-prone genes. Pay the genetic engineering fees and then go to the clinic for IVF.

With his new promotion, Peter knew that they could finally afford the child that they wanted. But the new Genetic Cost Index was demand-based, the fees harder to predict. Some time ago, the Gene Pool was privatized. He had read something in the business journals about investment opportunities, genetic engineering, and the wisdom of the private sector, but he had not paid much attention.

“There must be a way around this,” said Peter. “It’s like the stock market, people try to guess the future based on what they read today. We just have to go against the flow, contrarian thinking.”

Mary wiped away her tears then shut down the laptop. “This is so screwed up,” she said. “All this high-tech stuff and for what? We can’t even afford to be normal people.” She bolted up from her chair, picked up her laptop and threw it across the room, smashing it into the fireplace. Peter heard the cracking of plastic. He had given her the laptop as a birthday present a month ago. 

Mary glared at Peter. “It’s like this. Forget all this forward-planning crap that all the MBAs are raving about. I’ve been waiting for five years! To hell with all the management consultants trying to run our lives, all this genetic engineering bullshit. If you want kids, man up and do it the old-fashioned way, if you can remember how!”

Mary stormed out of the room, leaving Peter to mull over the fate of his fatherhood. He walked over to the fireplace, picked up the broken laptop, and placed it gently on the desk. Could he fix it? How about his marriage? He headed towards the bedroom, unsure of what lay ahead.