Daisy

 The research laboratory was a greenhouse dome made of chitin – a glassy organic polymer. It offered the needed safety and stability for the research base where in I worked on various projects in planet NEO. My research was at the end of ‘Phase1’ past the forty days period followed by a forty-week period of incubation.

 Dora was the chief architect of a construction company that the company I worked for had hired to carry out any infrastructure development. Dora being a satyr was very skilled in arriving at structures that best fit the needs of humans in the galaxy. As part of interspecies collaboration, Satyrs were known to offer the best construction schemes at cheaper cost and maintenance in the galaxy.

After building, it was her responsibility to visit and assess the health of the structures and do the needed maintenance. It was on her site visits that I befriended her. She was a good-looking Satyr, married, and had two children who received education in planet IO in solar system.

I said, "Dora, I don’t have time to emotionally invest with a man. Being married to a person like me might only make him wonder if he is married to a cheating spouse".

 But that was not the real reason. I have never paid attention in body care since I was a child. Not my mistake, I just was not wired that way. I was qualified and independent with a car and an apartment of my own in Earth and IO. I even had substantial credits in savings. Coming to the appearance part, I knew my thighs were too big. My face was too undefined. Almost every part of me could use some work. I knew, I could never redeem true physical beauty as a social currency.

 Random guys on social networking apps have matched with me only to let me know how hideous I had been. I have had to work harder at friendships with the opposite gender. I have struggled to keep people's attention at parties. I found I was more easily ignored in professional situations, even when got something to say. I have had people explain to me how I can improve my skin and diets I should try. Ugliness was not the absence of beauty. But in people's collective perception, ugly ones were stupid.

 Sometimes, I have seen guys walking away from me in mid-conversation to talk to a better-looking girl. When I wrote pieces on this subject or even alluded to having an opinion online, anonymous trolls told me I wouldn’t be so unattractive if I didn’t dye my hair and got a good chemical peel.

 There was no reason why an attractive woman should go to a man of lesser quality. With all these, I was sure what kind of a partner I would get if I hit the dating sites. In the end, after going through all the dating options available, I volunteered to work on research projects in total isolation in distant planets as I didn’t want to see my self-esteem crash.

 "I just want to remind you that a leading research article once said that both "fatherless" children and "motherless" children are necessarily at a disadvantage, the togetherness of the parents provide a different, indispensable set of parenting skills." said Dora.

 I knew where Dora's words came from. I knew she was trying hard to tone me down and conform me to her set of views. I didn't want to disappoint her by letting her aware how her words turned futile in convincing me.

 "Well, it's time for me. I need to return to my base in planet IO. In the meantime, you can also reconsider your thought, Clara. I have replaced a new spare part of the oxygen production plant. I'll be back to assess it in a week. Think about what I just said, take good care of yourself and good luck with your research. " Dora further added and left the dome.

 I was not interested in adoption primarily because it didn't involve my genes. My point was artificial conception lacked the ‘cosmic connection' that came with the natural conception.

 I was suffused with hormones and wanted a child of my own. I cuddled more and felt soft and sweet and was puzzled by these manifestations of estrogen. Like an insatiable hunger satisfied only by becoming pregnant and giving birth to a newborn, a live infant, a baby human being.

 I ticked off inwardly. Adoption – check, artificial insemination – hell, check!

In the long tenure of my research endeavor, I had kept to myself, some information that I had collected for various projects I worked in from the various nomadic groups, tribes, and clans of Satyrs during our site visits. As a mortal species, Satyrs were only little different from the humans of Earth. Yet, that little difference prevented sex between the two species. Furthermore, a group of Satyrs were super-short – just 5 inches tall. This allowed them to be put into works where size mattered. My assignment was to create shorter humans just like the super-short Satyrs. That way, some investors believed much of the dependency on Satyrs could be pulled down.

      ‘That the embryo be putrefied by itself in a sealed cucurbit for forty days with the highest degree of putrefaction in a mammal’s womb, or at least so long that it comes to life and moves, and stirs, which is easily observed. After this time, it will look somewhat like a Satyr, but transparent, without a body. If, after this, it be fed wisely with the Arcanum of satyr blood, and be nourished for up to forty weeks, and be kept in the even heat of the mammal's womb, a living satyr child grows therefrom, with all its members like another child, which is born of a satyr female, but much transparent’

      These were a nomadic group’s words that were said to help create a super-short Satyr.

I had medical procedures that briefed about creating parthenotic embryos. Accordingly, I developed a ‘parthenotic embryo’ using my egg and put it inside the cucurbit, two days later I took it out and injected it into the uterus of a horse named Sierra. Sierra was one of the many animals we had at the lab to help with our research experiments. After that, as per the recipe, I waited to see some movements.

      Forty days passed like forty millennia after which I observed small movements in Sierra’s uterus. I took it out and put it in the artificial uterus and injected my blood. Because I fed the fetus with my own blood, I had to put myself into a regimented workout routine to keep myself fit to compensate for the loss. This went on for forty weeks in a row bringing the end of what I called ‘Phase one’. I then transferred the fetus back into Sierra’s womb. Two weeks later, the Sierra gave birth to something that I would call a creature that the universe has never seen before.

      At only six inches in height, the creature looked like a tiny human squirming in the amniotic fluid of Sierra. Soaked in the amniotic fluid, the newborn was very transparent like a juvenile surgeonfish, I was even able to see the soil beneath through its flesh. My eyes resembled a leaky faucet after Sierra’s delivery: the water just won't stop dripping out! I mean, it was like I finally got a child by surrogate. Even though it was the event of having a baby through a surrogate mother, I felt physically and mentally as tired as I was of having a baby.

             The biggest question that had always held me back from conceiving was the quality of the sperm needed for the fetus. By quality I mean 'Epitome of masculinity'. By 'Epitome of masculinity', I mean, among the million combinations of human genes, the combination that would yield the best of human qualities in a man. But the quick turn of events made it abundantly clear that there was no need for one anymore.

      The newborn was so small and delicate to even touch and feel. I felt the strong, heady concoction of feelings that, I suspect, only motherhood can bring. That combination of exhaustion and energy-from your child. That mixture of frustration and wonder—because of your child. That feeling of complete overwhelm—overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with love and overwhelmed with joy—for your child.

      Initially I was a little surprised to find its skull and bones to be translucent like glass. Without the help of scan equipment, I was able to see the internals of the little human. Since it was both human and appearance-wise juvenile surgeonfish-like at the same time, I wondered if it could be named Homo Acanthurus. But, for the time being, I named her Daisy. Hit by a natural motherly instinct to feed her, I leaned forward over Daisy only to realize that it was Sierra who was her surrogate mother.

      The first time I tried to feed horse milk, Daisy promptly rejected it. Despite my repeated futile attempts to feed her, she remained alive, showing no sign of pain or discomfort.  Shortly after, I saw her dividing into two identical daughters by asexual reproduction. Still soaked in the amniotic fluid, Daisy reflected my face as I leaned forward to glance at her in proximity.

      With no food taken, her ability to do asexual reproduction surprised me. After performing many tests, I had to conclude that Daisy was deriving her strength from the sunlight through photosynthesis. I recalled reading about a kind of sea slug that was capable of stealing chloroplasts from its algal prey. I knew, Daisy was held in a horse's womb for quite a long time. I knew, horses were grass-eaters too. All these stood enough evidence to conclude that her long stay in a horse's womb must have given the ability to steal the chloroplasts from the grass and do photosynthesis.

      I wondered why those tribesmen did not say anything about this. But I also thought that, perhaps all these traits of Daisy could be results of mutation in the remote planet NEO. Daisy's metabolism clearly put her much different from that of a regular human.

      In the week that followed, Daisy had multiplied herself to over a hundred through asexual reproduction. As usual, she didn't fail to reflect my face whenever I leaned forward to inspect her in proximity for health assessment. The only difference was, I was not reflected hundred times. This gave me the hint that even though she was multiplying every day, every hour, every minute, every second, all of them worked together in synergy as if they were different parts of the same body. With her steady growth without any hiccups in her vitals chart, I was glad Daisy was making progress in my research.

      Forces of cohesion bounded hundreds of Daisys together, making her look like a giant jellyfish. In that overall picture she made, I had to search for her human figure. As she grew, her jellyfish figure seemed to stretch even more sideways making me wonder if she would eventually fill the entire dome. She devoured the decorative plants kept in the dome. It was like kids destroy property as a way of coping, I considered my loss a sacrifice. I mean, I have had experiences in the past when kids in my neighborhood broke things, punched holes in the wall, and behaved violently, to frighten me into doing what they wanted.

      On the other hand, during the day, she continued to multiply by absorbing light, like the chloroplast of a typical plant. Initially, I thought she was just a chloroplast-powered human life. During the night, she reflected the stars of the night sky like a beautiful canvas.

      My initial assumption was, she was just reflecting the night sky the same way how she reflected mine. But one night, when I observed that reflection carefully and closely, I noticed that there was a difference between the pattern of light spots in the night sky and its reflection by Daisy. A comet that appeared in reflection one night passed through the night sky only the next night, blew my mind. I was shocked and surprised when I found that Daisy was reflecting not the present but 24 hours into the future.

      The sky showed the present, the past and the future through photons of light. Daisy had grown into tens of thousands, the hot summer got her exposed to excessive light photons. I thought, what if tens of thousands of brains analyzed the past, the present and the future all at once? Daisy's neural system seemed to be offering a continuously growing system of complex neural networks that somehow learnt to understand the language of photons of light.

      I couldn’t help but look at Daisy in awe. Generally, I’d always been a positive person, but lately, I began to ponder the brevity of life. If Daisy hadn't mastered the fractal set part  of the cosmos, she was exposed to, there was no way she could draw the future as a canvas every night consistently. Her canvas could easily be taken for the cumulative effect of accurately grasping the kinetic properties of the light photons, their coordination and studying its various patterns.

      The night sky and its reflection sounded more like an out of sync soundtrack with the video. I marveled at my own creation. If every creation has its place in the great grand schema of things, I wondered, where my creation would stand and to what purpose.

      In a way, over the course of a few days, my heart was broken and put back together, many times, by Daisy. My heart was broken from fear and overwhelming love at the same time. When I cried myself to sleep some nights or felt like the wind got knocked out of me at times, over worries and fears and feeling scared—scared she may be hated for being constructive or destructive or both with plant life, scared that she may not make it, scared that whatever she was capable of could be seen misleading .

          It was the present that led to the future and it was the past that was once 'present'. Creation and destruction were essentially cyclic. The past-present-future was nothing but this system along with everything offered by cosmos, its various possibilities, and their interplay between them. Given all these, Daisy, with her unique system of indefinitely growing complex neural network could have mastered the manifestation of time and reality by simply studying the patterns of light photons.

          Perhaps she mastered the cosmic possibilities that led to everything in the cosmos. Perhaps Daisy, with her indefinitely growing complex neural network, has learnt the art of projecting light photons over time and the outcome was marvelous.

      I was so enthralled by Daisy’s ability, no question about it. She deciphered the dynamics of the existing universe by analyzing the light photons. That way, I would say she had gone several steps ahead of me.

            At the same time, I felt Daisy’s immense growth, going beyond my control. I felt compelled to control it. No matter how uniquely skilled she was, she was my daughter, born to my blood and my genes. Therefore, by definition, she was more of my daughter than a mere test subject.

             To Dora, when she turned in the next time to the facility, to assess the oxygen plant,

 "Meet my daughter Daisy" I said with a face filled with a sense of fulfillment.

 Dora looked at me and Daisy alternatively.

 By now, Daisy was blazing as she grew sucking in more and more sunlight while one end of the effervescent Daisy was about to touch the dome. To the now confused Dora, I had to explain everything from the point I made out a 'parthenotic embryo'.

 
From her facial expressions, Dora didn't seem to have understood Daisy's unique skills on interpreting light photons. In a way, I thought I could take advantage of it.

 
"She can't walk or talk like a regular child. Is that Ok Clara?" Dora asked after a long gaze at Daisy.

 
"Aren't babies born with diseases? I would be happy to assume I got one, Dora" I said.

 
"I am glad you finally got a child in the exact way you wanted" Dora said without taking her eyes off of Daisy. Her eyes and other facial features abundantly declared amusement and surprise.

 
"Can you do me a favor? I had to cope with office works while incubating my first daughter. Now that the project is nearing completion, I must take my daughter to home. She should not stay in the light for long. So, can you help make a portable incubator for her?" I said.

 
She thought for a few seconds deeply and then agreed. She carefully crafted out an incubator based on how I wanted. Accordingly, she made a sloping recliner-seat sized ark made of glass that slid from right to left and fitted a light bulb that circled the arc from left to right on it. With the help of Dora, I shifted Daisy to the portable ark incubator. The equilibrium of the Daisys was regulated by light variations in the ark. Considering that the day was longer than the night on some days and vice versa on some other days, light from the bulbs aided to maintain the equilibrium.

 
But Dora had no clue how the ark favored Daisy. She was under the assumption that what she made for Clara was nothing more than just a fish tank with some cosmetic settings to make it look comical.

" Daisy is definitely not like other children. So, I can't even imagine the challenges you might have to face in raising Daisy, Clara." Dora said.

 
In a way that was true. Even I can’t imagine but I had a fair idea what to expect.

With Daisy, the advantage was, togetherness of the parents didn't matter as Daisy couldn’t walk or talk, didn't even need to be fed or nurtured with a proper diet. Nothing was asked of her really, except that she somehow managed to balance her count on both the leading and trailing edges of the ark. So, I made arrangements in such a way that even when there was a power failure, the ark continued to run on batteries until the power failure was resolved.

Days may get lonely, when all my friends have “normal” kids, I may miss out on things. Daisy was non-verbal, so she can’t communicate and might always choose to let me know what's wrong with her through the canvas. I must learn to interpret those paintings of hers. I might develop mental and physical health conditions due to aging. If something were to happen and suddenly, I was gone, I wasn't sure how she would cope in her own ways.

I might not be able to go anywhere, inviting friends to home could be disastrous as they might be terrified if they got to know about Daisy. It would be nice to have friends to support me, but I knew they wouldn't want to hear about my daily issues. Relatives might stop inviting me to family gatherings. I might not be able to continue with my job. I could never have "normal" child as managing Daisy could eventually become too much. I may even get unused to the company of "normal" kids.

Life could get surreal easily. I could never have a romantic life as he would never be able to understand why he could not be my priority. I might end up not having much social life, might have to stick in almost every night and feel guilty to force others make the effort to come to me.

 
My daughter was incredible. I loved her so much and she brought so much fulfillment into my life. From the point she came to life, I couldn’t imagine a world without her because she was a cosmos by herself, by the canvas she made every day.

 
It felt like my world simultaneously became more complex and simpler than I could possibly conceive of: nothing mattered except whether she was okay, and everything mattered because everything could affect her, then or in the future. It felt like anticipatory grieving and a whole lot of fear. It felt like exhaustion, unspeakable nappies at middle of the nights, screaming, and vomits. And then the fear of pneumonia because of the vomit. It felt like joy, and pride, and ferocious love for my daughter.

I could be accused of regulating sunlight exposed over Daisy, disallowing Daisy from being exposed to her natural habitat. My argument was, in the very beginning, human life on earth could not have lasted more than two decades. Later, with the help of chisels, rocks, sculptures, languages, manuscripts, inscriptions, etc., human life thrived as a byproduct of cultivating memories. Redefining human emotions, values and qualities became a recurring process. If that's possible, if that's fair, if that's right, then what I do to Daisy should also be possible, fair and right.

The downside of having someone like Daisy around, according to me, was knowledge gotten from Daisy could keep us away from arriving at our own theory on the dynamics of the cosmos. The possibility of our theory giving us the needed fixes to some of the open issues in the current dynamics of the universe would be completely ruled out. We might even get lost in the vastness of the knowledge from Daisy.

Even if Daisy could decipher the dynamics of the universe, she was my daughter. To have a conversation with Daisy, I must first learn to interpret her canvas because that’s the only way of expression for her. But doing so might, implicitly, make me, like her, aware of the nature’s design and changes that occur over time due to it.

I wondered if it would go against the nature's design. I could not think of the consequences. I might have to differ with the definitions of every known thing with everyone else in the planet. I still hadn’t thought about how I was going to deal with it for my daughter’s sake. If I thought about it, my focus on my daughter got distracted. She could not have chosen her mother. That made me the only one responsible for her.

 
"So what? The first woman with a disabled child, might have had new experiences that a mother who was a normal child to her mother had never seen before. Wasn’t that how the first mother born on Earth might have raised her first child? So, it is ok if I must assume myself in place of that first mother," I said with confidence.

"I think intentionally or unintentionally you are triggering a new era, Clara. An era for only feminine tendencies to thrive." Dora said, her brows still furrowed trying to make sense of what has happened in the dome.

"What came in a day late and a dollar short cannot be the last to exit, Dora" I said thoughtfully.

THE END

Bio: Ramprasath is a Computer Engineer, and writer, at work on short stories and a novel. He lives, works, and plays in the Atlanta, Georgia, USA since 2014. His work has appeared in Madswirl, Quailbell Magazine, and Boston Literary Magazine.

E-mail: Ramprasath Rengasamy

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