THE QUESTIONS

Tempéra stares at the couple with a frown. He decides to wait for them to get up. Without a word, he rushes towards them stopping them with a hand wave before taking a moment to collect his thoughts and ask them calmly:

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Professor Akheeli," Mrs Karim replies smiling.

They go to sit in the same room with the blue door as on the day of his arrival. Tempéra tries to relax, searching for his words. How can he ask? Why would they sabotage his work?

"What are you doing to this child?" He finally asks.

"I thought you never ask questions, Professor Akheeli," the woman says with a smirk, which immediately irritates Tempéra.

"When my work is at stake, then yes only have I to ask questions," he retorts, challenging her with a glare.

"This may take a while," the husband says calmly. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks. I just want the answer to my question." Tempéra snaps.

"Are you even ready to hear it?" The wife asks seriously.

"I'm listening," Tempéra says impatiently.

"A higher being is about to come into this world thanks to you professor," Mrs Karim exclaims as her face lights up with joy.

Tempéra frowns while remaining silent to let her continue.

"Men have always believed that God and science were going in two opposite directions, but they've never been so far from the truth."

"Any form of belief or religion has been banned for years, Madam," Tempéra exclaims.

"Just like artificial birth Professor Akheeli," his client retorts dryly before continuing calmly: "Men always do whatever they want no matter what, we both know that."

"What did you do to that child?" Tempéra continues to ask firmly without further comment.

"Matter can be modified in many ways Professor Akheeli: by matter and by thought."

Tempéra lets out a mocking smile, but he remains silent for a long moment, staring at the woman sitting across from him, still smiling.

"Why did you call on me if you could do the job yourself... by thought?" He asks, amused.

"Precisely, we couldn't conceive a pure child without artificial birth,"

Tempéra can't stop a burst of laughter. He shakes his head for a few seconds as if to chase away the incoherent ideas that come to his mind. He has heard in the media of religious groups, cults and sects of all kinds that each year predict an imminent end of the world, an unborn saviour, and a resurrection for the lucky believers. Although there are many of those movements around, they know how to use discretion to go completely unnoticed in a world too busy to listen to the disarray of people in search of hope. For someone like Tempéra who believes in almost nothing, it is difficult to relate with the very people who believe in everything and anything. In spite of the conflicts and the wars which didn't cease until the prohibition of all religions, he didn't find these organisations particularly dangerous until now. Ever since the Treaty on Global Secularism, outlandish religious ideas only harm those who get too close to them.

"Professor Akheeli, you don't believe in purity, do you?" The woman asks, interrupting the long silence.

"Have you looked at my face?" Tempéra says, giggling.

"I'm not talking about the purity of race, Professor Akheeli," his client retorts.

"Listen Madam," Tempéra says, standing up in exasperation. "Believe whatever you want and do what you want with this child, I got your answer to my question, and I've heard enough. Now, if you'll excuse me," Tempéra retorts, heading for the door.

"Professor Akheeli," calls out the woman as she stands up, looking at him intently. "What are you going to cling to when you've lost everything? Nothingness is much vaster than we think."

Tempéra stops short, he turns to stare at his client. She doesn't look disillusioned or crazy, quite the contrary. She has the shining and questioning eyes of intelligent women. She is quite simply convinced that she knows the secrets of the world just as he is convinced that he knows those of the incubator tube. The professor answers the woman with a smile before leaving the room without a word.

Tempéra wonders by what miracle he hasn't come across more of those people in his career.