PROFESSOR TEMPERA AKHEELI

Togo (Africa), 2080

'Journal 1. Gaëlle gave us a fright last night, but she's fine now,' the male voice speaking English sounds jerky and breathy, 'This is a great step for science and mankind as a whole,' he adds with a smirk.

The forty- or fifty-year-old man puts the recorder on his desk to lean heavily on the back of his seat before turning thoughtfully towards his screen, still smiling. He inhales then opens his e-mail box.

Mrs. MacIntosh sent him another message. He gently shakes his head then rolls his eyes in disdain before clicking on the next email.

Ms. Ho has replied. He opens the message, leaning with great interest on the screen. Ms. Ho lives in South Korea, single, 32 years old, architect, she wants a boy who is taller than his father or will never experience the daily pain of sickle cell disease. She carries the Babel gene through her mother who is Black American.

The man pauses for a moment to think about what to tell her. Of course, he already knows what to say to this client, however, what is more important than what to say is how he says it; this is what makes all the difference to his business and his research. The more desperate the clients the better because they will accept everything and they will pay more. He has just in mind to try a new drug to overcome the reaction of the Babel gene when trying to alter the property of a nearby gene. Unfortunately for this particular client, the gene responsible for sickle cell disease is located right beside the Babel gene. 'Brilliant!' He will be able to play a bit with this case. Perhaps, he will even be able to recommend an artificial birth rather than a natural one despite this client's young age. The man takes a deep breath before typing his response. Sent. He moves on to the next email.

Mrs Moreau. The email is written in French. He grabs the glass of water on his desk and takes a sip of it while still keeping his eyes focused on the screen. He clicks on his mouse with his free hand before putting his glass back down on the desk. Mrs. Moreau lives in Vietnam, married, 21 years old. The man frowns. 'Which woman lacks discernment these days to marry at that age? Surely, she can't be smart,' the man thinks out loud, pursing his lips. Her husband is in the military. They are both from Luxembourg. Neither of them carries the Babel gene, but they are both fertile. The man smiles in anticipation of their request: find the couple a donor with the lightest complexion possible who would nevertheless carry the gene. Finding donors in a predominantly infertile population can be very expensive, but finding donors who look Caucasians and carry the Babel gene can cost even more. He will also need to warn the couple of the possible risks that the child may pick up other undesirable attributes specific to people carrying the Babel gene. If they pay a little more, these clients can ensure that this won't happen to their child. This child will be as white as his or her biological parents by half.

The man raises his eyes to the ceiling to think up ideas. Then suddenly, he plunges back into his keyboard to type away passionately as if he is playing the piano. Prodigious! A true virtuoso! He stops short for a few seconds to contemplate his masterpiece. His fingers hanging in the air above the keyboard. He clicks on his mouse. Sent. He keeps onto the following email. This one is from Mrs. Uta.

Mrs. Uta wrote to him in German. She has Japanese, Chinese, Persian and Irish ancestries, and is 48 years-old. 'Perfect!' he exclaims, smiling. The older the clients, the more likely they are to be able to pay and the more interested they are in artificial birth as well as genetic engineering of their offspring. At that age, most people on the planet, men or women, can no longer share their own genetic heritage naturally.

'So, tell me Mrs. Uta, what can I do for you?' the man whispers to himself as he leans onto the screen with a broad smile on his face. As he was about to continue reading, his wrist phone suddenly starts to vibrate. Wendy Lianolovic's name appears on the small screen. He immediately takes the call.

'Ms. Lianolovic, how are you?' he begins cheerfully.

'The baby's ready, all the results are good,' the female voice starts, 'When can you come for the birth?' she asks all at once.

'I'll come on the date we set together six months ago,' the man replies. He opens his calendar on his computer, 'I have 10th July. That's exactly two weeks from now,' he adds in a soothing voice.

'Won't it be too long?' the female voice retorts.

'Of course not, they're always very happy in their tube,' the man says then bursts out laughing.

I know! You're wondering what the common denominator between the six characters is

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