Ava, p.12
Ava, page 12
As James privately conducted his personal research, his public work with Susan thrived. They published multiple journal articles over the years, and he presented his work at national and international scientific conferences. He easily secured grants to grow his lab. Graduate students began requesting to collaborate with him, and he was happy to mentor them, though it slowed down his other commitments.
* * *
After working with Dr. Davis for sixteen years, Susan begged him to hire a research assistant. They had more than enough money from his grants, and the workload was becoming too much for her to continue alone. The visiting graduate students had all done well, and most left with a peer-reviewed publication under their belts, but they usually only stayed one or two years.
Dr. Davis advertised the position online and in journals that generated a lot of interest, but he was most impressed by a student who studied at the university where he worked and who would be graduating soon. Multiple professors had called him to praise her brilliant mind, her inquisitiveness, and her work ethic. Susan contacted the student and set up an interview with Dr. Davis.
Susan brought Larkin into the department conference room where Dr. Davis waited at the end of a large oak table surrounded by ten or so high-backed leather chairs. A whiteboard hung behind him. It was covered in research goals and deadlines.
“Very nice to meet you, Larkin!” He stood and extended his hand to her.
“You as well, Dr. Davis. I have heard so much about your work,” Larkin replied. She took a seat in a chair across from him and clasped her hands in front of her on the table.
“So, tell me, why do you want to work here? Why are you interested in chicken beaks?” He smiled warmly as he leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
Larkin laughed. “Who knew chicken beaks could be so interesting, right?” She explained that her mother had a severe underbite when she was younger and underwent mandibular surgery as a teenager. Her jaw had been wired shut for six weeks as she healed, so she drank all of her food as thin purees through a straw during that time. Larkin had inherited the same mandibular prognathism, but fortunately, hers had been mild enough to correct with braces. Still, she’d wondered why and how it had happened. She’d started reading about other species and discovered that they developed similar defects. That spurred her interest in facial development across species, which led to an interest in the development of arms versus wings, nails versus claws, feet versus hooves, and the similarities of the genetic code and how the expression of different genes makes us who we are. She had fallen down a rabbit hole of evolutionary curiosity.
“Do you think we, as humans, are genetically superior to other species?” Dr. Davis asked.
Larkin said, “There is no doubt the evolution of our intelligence has led us to superior advances with literature, technology, theater, medicine, transportation, culinary arts, and on and on. And I don’t know any cats who have created a cinematic masterpiece or dogs that have developed any lifesaving vaccines . . . but . . . may I say something completely nonscientific?”
“Yes, of course!” Dr. Davis encouraged her.
“If I get reincarnated, I’d love to be a duck.”
“Why a duck?” He regarded her with genuine interest.
“I would be able to fly, swim, and live on land. The entire world would be accessible to me by my own power. And I have no sense of direction, but ducks have this amazing built-in navigation system. It’s incredible. In that way, they are genetically superior to us.”
“And you could lay eggs,” Dr. Davis added.
“Very true! That would be amazing!” Larkin mused. She hesitated and then asked, “Have you ever thought about being reincarnated, Dr. Davis?”
“Actually, yes.” He paused for a moment.
Larkin hoped he would elaborate, but she didn’t want to be intrusive. She knew they had gotten off topic. She thought he would probably want to be a lion or a famous novelist or a leader of a country.
“I’d like to be reincarnated as a Black man in America,” he said.
Larkin looked at him with raised eyebrows. She thought he might be joking, but she was quickly embarrassed by that thought.
Dr. Davis recognized the look of surprise on her face and explained. “I hope I was a Black man who tried with all my might to facilitate positive change in prior incarnations, and I hope to continue that until I succeed. I don’t think my soul can rest until then.”
And you just told him you want to be a duck. Way to go, Larkin thought. She was mortified.
“But a duck is a close second,” he said with sincerity as he extended his hand to Larkin. “I’m looking forward to having you work with us.”
CHAPTER 22
After almost a decade of working in the lab, Larkin was comfortable planning and designing experiments and working independently, although she continued working under the mentorship of her adviser, Dr. Davis. She’d planned on being alone all week as Susan was on vacation and the lab was between visiting graduate students. She was surprised when she arrived at work on Monday to find that all the lights were on and the door was unlocked.
“Good morning, Larkin!” Dr. Davis bellowed in his deep, joyful voice when she opened the door. “I beat you here!” he exclaimed as he was closing the door to the laboratory refrigerator.
“Good morning, Dr. Davis. This is a nice surprise. Did you come here very early?”
“No, I started working last night and I never left. Got too busy!” he said and sat down by the microscope table.
“Is this the private research Susan has mentioned to me? The project you’ve been working on for some time?”
“Yes, yes, yes! It’s been coming along nicely. Since we don’t have any students right now, I thought this would be a good opportunity to dedicate to my side hustle, as they say.”
Larkin desperately wanted to know what his other research involved, but she stopped herself from asking. She sat down and busied herself with organizing and cleaning her lab station nearby.
“So . . . would you like to know what I’ve been working on all these years?” he asked as he rolled his stool closer to her.
Larkin’s mouth was agape as she sat up straight to compose herself and then spun around in her lab chair. All she could do was nod in agreement. She was excited that he trusted her with this information.
Dr. Davis summarized his work over the past quarter of a century. He told Larkin how he’d perfected the method of splicing the segment of human DNA that codes for our internal reproductive organs and replacing it with a similar segment from a chicken. After many years of trial and error, changing substrates, and making sure he was splicing the DNA at the precise site, he had finally completed the exchange of genetic material. He’d repeated the process over and over to make sure it was reproducible—not a fluke. He had since been successful with growing the cells in culture and keeping the altered HeLa cell lines viable.
“So, you know, of course, that human females are XX and males are XY. And in humans, males have a gene on the Y chromosome, called SRY. It encodes a protein that causes a fetus to develop male gonads and prevents it from developing female reproductive structures.” He paused to let her recall that information. “But did you know that in avian species, the females also have two different chromosomes, ZW, and the males are ZZ? Female avian species have genes that act like the SRY gene in humans, but their genes turn off the development of avian male reproductive structures.”
“I didn’t know that,” Larkin replied. She was curious about what he hoped to achieve with this research.
He leaned forward, picked up a pen, and drew a cell with a few chromosomes dividing. “I wanted to develop a similar protein like humans and chickens have, but on the newly altered X chromosome that won’t cross over between prophase I and metaphase I with an unaltered X chromosome and would essentially turn off that gene.” He scribbled out one portion of a chromosome.
“So, your genetically engineered segment of the X chromosome would always be dominant in XX females? And that would be the genetic material that is always expressed?”
“Exactly!” He pointed the pen toward Larkin with emphasis, then twirled it between his fingers as he continued to explain. “The dominant human female gene would then continue to be passed down in females. And males who inherit the altered X chromosome from their mother would always pass this gene down to their daughters. And I did it, Larkin. I developed that protein. I’ve attached it to a fluorescent marker so you can see it. Look!”
He set down the pen and rolled back over to the microscope. He stood and gestured for her to sit in front of the fluorescent microscope, then turned off the lights.
“Do you see the area lit up in red?”
“Yes,” Larkin replied.
“That’s it! That’s the gene for avian internal reproductive organs added to a human cell line.” There was excitement in his voice.
Dr. Davis turned on the lights. “It’s really amazing you were able to successfully do that, Dr. Davis, but I’m afraid I don’t understand the practical application.” Larkin looked up at her mentor.
“Ah, yes. One word, Larkin: platypus.”
Larkin gazed at him with a puzzled look on her face.
“Well . . . two words, really. Platypus and echidna.” He grinned like a child with two fistfuls of cash at a candy store.
“What do they have in common, Larkin?” he asked. He sat on the edge of the table, holding her by her shoulders.
“Mammals who can lay eggs?”
“That’s right!” He gently shook her shoulders. “There are only two mammals that can lay eggs, but what if there were three, Larkin? Three?” he asked, holding up three fingers for emphasis.
Dr. Davis put his hands in his lap and continued explaining as Larkin slowly absorbed what he was telling her.
“If women could lay eggs instead of going through nine months of pregnancy, a lot of women would still be alive, my mother being one of them. That’s why I wanted to do this, Larkin. That’s why this was so important to me.” He waited for a moment and took a deep breath before resuming. “I want women to have a better way to have babies—a way that gives them freedom, peace of mind, better health, better outcomes. They would have more control of their reproductive choices in a world where those choices are quickly being taken away. This won’t help my generation or yours. It’s too late for that. This would be for future generations. This is a long game of tweaking the evolutionary process.”
Larkin thought about a future where Dr. Davis’s world was a reality. Growing a tiny human inside of yourself—even a healthy one—is not for the faint of heart, as she knew well. She thought of all the strangers who’d approached her to relay their pregnancy woes when she was pregnant with Maeve. Stories of morning sickness, fatigue, heartburn, swollen feet, sciatica, high blood pressure, urinary incontinence, and so on and so on. And then there were the stories she’d heard about an ectopic pregnancy, a uterine rupture, or an emergency C-section for a shoulder dystocia. Larkin and Dr. Davis talked for hours about the possibilities and how it could work. Incubators could be adapted to house human eggs, just like incubators for chicks. Women would no longer spend nine months being incubators for their growing babies—they would be free to live and work without feeling bloated and exhausted. There wouldn’t be multiple visits to the obstetrician anymore, and home deliveries would be commonplace.
They talked about how an embryo’s growth would be monitored. Ultrasounds don’t work with eggs because the shell’s high calcium carbonate content doesn’t allow ultrasound waves to pass. But an acoustic window could be created by cutting out a small portion of the shell, allowing ultrasound waves to pass so doctors could monitor the baby’s growth and health. Once babies were full term, they wouldn’t be able to hatch themselves because they would lack the egg tooth that chicks have, so they would be “hatched” by their parents or a midwife or a physician.
And they talked about how it would change abortion. If a woman wanted to terminate her pregnancy, there would be no need for an abortion—if a fertilized egg wasn’t incubated, the embryo simply wouldn’t grow. But unplanned pregnancies would rarely happen because egg production wouldn’t occur without significant exposure to sunlight, just as Larkin had learned with her Silkie chickens. And if a mother decided to give the baby to a childless family for adoption, then the egg could be incubated for them and with them. It would change everything.
Larkin knew it would not have changed much for Maeve. She still wouldn’t have survived her defect, but she would have had the chance to pass more peacefully. And the entire experience could have been less traumatic for both of them.
“What are the next steps of your research?” Larkin wanted to know.
“Well, now I would need a human test subject to see if my experiment is truly a success.” Dr. Davis rested his chin in his hand. “I would have to alter a human egg and see if it would successfully fertilize. Then it would be implanted in the volunteer’s uterus. Hopefully an embryo would grow, and that baby would have the altered genetic code. And if that baby is female, when the child grows to reproductive age, they should be able to lay eggs.”
“And only the genetic code for internal reproductive organs would be changed in the embryo? Externally, everything would be the same?” Larkin asked.
“Exactly. The baby would look like any other female externally, but it should develop an avian reproductive system internally.”
“And when the female is fully grown . . . how does she . . . mate?”
“Ah, yes. The old-fashioned way.” Dr. Davis smiled. “The fundamentals of procreation would remain unchanged.”
“Where do you plan to find a volunteer?”
“‘Ay, there’s the rub,’ as Hamlet said. That will be a major obstacle,” Dr. Davis acknowledged.
“I could do it,” Larkin said, placing her hand on her heart.
“Larkin, I didn’t confide in you hoping you would volunteer,” he said. His tone was serious. “I would never ask you to do that after your experience with Maeve.”
“I know, Dr. Davis, but how else would you find someone? You can’t advertise for test subjects. And I want to help. I want to help because of Maeve. I want to be a part of this in a meaningful way. And I’ve been thinking about having another baby recently. It’s been almost a decade. I think I’m ready.”
“This is a decision not to be taken lightly, Larkin. If you’re serious, talk to your husband. Give it some time. A lot of time. I have been working on this for over twenty-five years. We won’t know if the experiment is a success for many more years.” Then he quoted Shakespeare again. “‘To climb steep hills requires slow pace at first.’ I can wait.”
“Henry VIII?” Larkin was not quite sure of her answer.
“Correct,” Dr. Davis confirmed.
“‘Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt,’” Larkin quoted.
“Impressive, Larkin, very impressive. My mother would love you for knowing that quote. But please, take your time and listen to those doubts. And a ‘no’ is expected and understandable.”
That weekend, Larkin gathered eggs laid by the second generation of Silkie chickens to inhabit the backyard coop. Spencer had brought home Rhiannon, Cecelia, Lola, and Vera after the first chickens had passed away. They had all lived to be close to nine years old and had managed to survive a hawk attack and two fox attacks; Spencer had chased the predators away. The fencing he continued to modify and improve had also thwarted several black rat snakes from stealing eggs.
After placing the freshly harvested eggs on the kitchen counter, she joined Spencer, who was relaxing on their screened-in porch in the cool evening air. They held hands as they reclined in side-by-side lounge chairs listening to insects trilling and watching their hens scratch and peck at the birdseed and garden lime Spencer had laid down for them around the coop. He’d also put it in their water. The lime helped their eggs to develop hard, healthy shells. It also repelled pests and kept their water free of bacteria. Larkin watched an orange tabby cat in the distance, crouched and waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting field mouse.
“Spencer, I need to talk to you about something really important,” Larkin said, squeezing his hand and turning her head toward him.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“My IUD is due to be removed soon. We need to decide what to do after that. I can’t get another IUD now unless we travel out of state. I’ve heard most gynecologists here will just turn a blind eye and won’t report it if they know you got one somewhere else.” She paused. “Or we can have your sister bring us condoms from Colorado like she offered, but I don’t want her getting in trouble. I was scared enough when she snuck us a few THC gummies that time when she visited.”
“Yeah. Probably not a great idea,” Spencer acknowledged. “Or we could ask Aubrey if she can get you some birth control pills. She said she has lots of out-of-state connections. I think that’s how she’s been paying off her medical school loans the past few years.” He laughed.
Larkin sighed and shook her head. Then she looked at her husband. “Should we just move, Spencer? Go to another state where birth control is still legal?”
“We could start over somewhere else, but if this becomes federal law, it won’t matter where we move.”
“Do you really think that will happen?” she asked with concern.
“I think there’s a really good chance.”
“We could just do something really stupid then.”
“Like move to Canada? They don’t want us anymore. They’ve been inundated with Americans. I’m sure they regret being so politely Canadian now.” He laughed ruefully.
“No. Something really stupid.”
Spencer looked at her quizzically.
“We could have another baby,” Larkin said as she looked back toward the yard where the hens were still feeding.
“That’s not stupid!” Spencer reassured her and sat up in his chair, turning his body toward Larkin. “That’s great, but only if you’re ready to try again.”
