The Dream of Genes

Chapter 11: Vincent

As I called Gattaca's new director, my portable wristphone rang three times before I got a response.

"Hello?" It was a male's voice, orotund and plummy. Sounding like a mix of Eugene's and Dr. Lamar's voices mashed into one, birthed from the tranquil expanse.

"Hello, my name is Jerome Morrow, and I just want to say sorry for forcing a postponement on yesterday's launch to Titan. An emer—"

"Jerome, may I call you that?" Director Chino asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"I want to apologize for interrupting you, but I can assume that you already know what I am going to say," Director Chino said. "I may be new to Gattaca Aerospace Corporation, but a rocket not launching because of human error is unacceptable. I believe that Gattaca praises their employees for being the best of the best, and I want to continue holding that standard as the new director no matter how devastating the loss of the other two are." He paused. "My condolences to you. However, you need much more than a high GQ to get so many people through space."

"I'm sorry, Director Chino," I said, my spirit crumpled into a paper ball. "May I explain my side of the story?"

"Yes, you may," he said. "And thank you for asking for permission."

I thought about lying, but it would probably only hurt my dashed first impressions even more. In preparation, I inhaled a deep breath through my nose in preparation before releasing it. "Director Chino, yesterday, I had to save someone from dying. I am sorry that I did not inform anyone of my leave, but it was very important. I could not go back because they were in danger—and still have a possibility of being in danger right now." I looked around—I was all alone now. I wondered where Irene had taken Eugene and if she was keeping an eye on him.

Director Chino was silent as he processed my words. "Is this person you speak of a family member?"

"No, sir."

"A woman?"

"No, sir."

"A lover?"

"No, sir."

My voice somehow remained consistent and did not waver as I repeated the phrase while Chino's voice slowly crescendoed, drumrolling to the crash of cymbals.

"Then who is it, Jerome?" Director Chino's voice rang through my wristphone as he spoke with passion and momentum. "Who is this person whose life is more important than you and your co-workers getting launched into space? Is that not a dream of yours? Escaping the Earth and seeing what is beyond the clouds of Titan?" As if he had a microphone, I could hear the feedback as he caught his breath from the excitement.

I didn't know Director Chino knew about the planets and the moons. I guess it made sense even if my previous directors cared more about the rocket launching away from Earth than the rocket landing back on Earth.

"He is a friend."

Director Chino was silent again before he responded, "You must be an extraordinary friend to do something like that. I applaud your kindness, Jerome."

"Thank you, Director Chino. I just want to say that I understand the importance of this launch. I have personally mapped out its course with the help of my co-workers, but I do not believe I will be on that rocket tomorrow when it launches." The words leapt from my heart before my brain could comprehend what I was saying.

"I believe the latest time the rocket can be delayed is until 6:00 PM tomorrow. A lot can happen in a day, Jerome. I hope you will change your mind, but thank you for the heads up. I will begin looking for a potential replacement for you. Is that all you wanted to say, Jerome?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "Thank you."

My portable wristphone went silent, and I looked at it, trying to comprehend what had just occurred.

I was that rocket's navigator. Without me, eleven other astronauts would have been lost in space as they tried to maneuver the rocket to Titan. I wondered who would replace me. There were not a lot of celestial navigators that helped map our pathway. There was Napoleon, Irene, and a few others whose names I did not remember.

Has it been worth pretending to be Jerome Eugene Morrow for five years? All the trouble and tribulation just to give it all up for the man himself. He lent me his body: his identity. He gave me everything he deemed important, and I apparently provided him with everything I knew was important. Well, if he wants a dream in exchange for his body, then I will give him a dream all his own.

The house was eerily quiet now that I was alone. Even when I was at her house before, her sleeping body lying next to mine, it wasn't this quiet. The memory came back to me as I climbed the stairs up to her open bedroom. We didn't wait or think before we found ourselves tangled in her bed that night. Now that I walked through the open floorplan of the second floor, I saw things I didn't at first. An entire wall of the upper level was covered head to toe with wooden bookcases. My fingers grazed the book covers as my contacts read their titles: they were all about space. I picked up one of the texts and noticed a myriad of flag markers sticking out of its pages. I placed it back, impressed.

Looking at my hands, which held the textbook, it was at that moment I realized I had forgotten to scrub myself clean today. How could I have forgotten that? I wasn't worried because I trusted Irene to keep my secret, but it brought me back to a memory.

My hand had a strand of hair in between two fingers. It was my hair. I had tried to clean the floorboards with a towel, but it was useless because I was only spreading more of my skin and hair cells on the floor I was trying to clean. I had wept upon this floor out of frustration.

Now, I found myself standing in that empty space between her bed and the balcony.

I frowned as I stared at the wooden floorboards, almost seeing the pitiful ball I only recently was. I shook my head, trying to forget the memory. It was in the past, and it would stay there. I was better now.

I looked at the bed. Irene and I had talked about children on that bed, that "if it came to it," then she would be willing to get an ovum from the Egg Bank. She had become irritated by my words; she said she believed I didn't want our future children to live a life of old age. Honestly, I am not really sure if I want to bring children into this world. But if I did, I would want them to do something foolish or courageous or anything worth a Goddamn. That's what I did. Was it not?

That's when a funny thought popped into my head. That was what Eugene needed; he needed to do something courageous. A smile spread across my face as the plan formulated and expanded like a tree taking root into the soil.

I needed to find Eugene immediately.