astounded her husband: a surrender that left him breathless and not a little awed: as if, sloughing off the onus of contraceptive interference, shecould allow herself to be touched to the depths of her being.
If the quality of their loving had anything to do with the final product, their child ought to be a perfect human, Lajos thought as they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms. There was no guarantee that conception occurred that night. In fact, Lajos hoped that it hadn’t if Ruth would react like this until she did conceive.
Shortly, however, it was apparent that conception had occurred. Ruth developed a luminous beauty that touched everything around her with harmony. Jerry Frames, the Center’s resident physician, with a healing talent, privately told op Owen that the foetus was female and that Ruth was healthy enough to experience no problems.
The girl weighed seven pounds and three ounces at birth and was immediately christened the Little Princess by the nursery staff in the Center’s hospital. Her parents called her Dorotea and were utterly besotted with her miniature perfection, her pink-and-gold beauty. They were oblivious to the curious stares and whispered comments of the staff. It was Ruth, preternaturally sensitive to anything regarding her daughter, who began to notice the surreptitious glances, the cluster of people constantly near her daughter’s crib.
“You’re hiding something from me,” she told Jerry Frames accusingly. “There’s something wrong with Dorotea.”
“There’s not a thing wrong with her, Ruth,” Jerry replied sharply and thrust the baby’s chart at her. “You’ve enough pediatrics to read the medical notations. Go ahead.”
Ruth scanned the sheets quickly, then reread word and graph, checking the laboratory reports of body function, the cerebral and cardiac readings, even the nourishment intake and eliminations. There was definitely nothing abnormal about Dorotea. Even her chromosome mapping was XX/healthy/normal. Reassured, Ruth passed the clipboard back, and smiling confidently, continued to nurse her child.
Frames later said that he’d had a moment of pure panic because he couldn’t remember how much genetic training Ruth had had or might remember. Op Owen assured him that his instinctive impulse had been the only possible course under the circumstances.
“It’s exceedingly fortunate, though, Jerry,” the director said, his eyes active with speculation, “that they are already under the Center’s protection. That child must have every safeguard we can provide. I want equipment installed in her nursery, tuned to her pattern day and night. If what we suspect is correct, it may manifest itself in her first six months. Can you imagine the strides we can make in formulating an early childhood program with such a superb example?”
“A pure case of doing what comes naturally.”
“Nothing must interfere with that child’s development.”
“I still don’t see why we’ve kept it from the parents. Are you stepping down from your “know-all, tell-all’ pedestal after all?”
Op Owen returned the physician’s sardonic look.
“I’m not a precog, but I felt a strong reluctance to inform Lajos.”
“Why? He’d be walking nine feet tall to think he produced such a Talented child.”
“Haven’t we changed sides, Jerry?”
“It’s one thing to withhold information from the unwashed public, but another to clam up on one of the gang.”
“We don’t know positively that Dorotea Horvath is …”
“Come off it Dave. Cecily King is a strong TP and she
heard
that child protest birth. Oh, I know that some of ’em can cry out in the womb but this was no physical cry or it would have been audible to the rest of the delivery room personnel. Is your stumbling block Ruth Horvath?”
Op Owen nodded slowly.
“Well, that makes a little more sense, although I’d say she’d welcome her daughter’s Talent. A kind of vindication that she’s never been
If the quality of their loving had anything to do with the final product, their child ought to be a perfect human, Lajos thought as they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms. There was no guarantee that conception occurred that night. In fact, Lajos hoped that it hadn’t if Ruth would react like this until she did conceive.
Shortly, however, it was apparent that conception had occurred. Ruth developed a luminous beauty that touched everything around her with harmony. Jerry Frames, the Center’s resident physician, with a healing talent, privately told op Owen that the foetus was female and that Ruth was healthy enough to experience no problems.
The girl weighed seven pounds and three ounces at birth and was immediately christened the Little Princess by the nursery staff in the Center’s hospital. Her parents called her Dorotea and were utterly besotted with her miniature perfection, her pink-and-gold beauty. They were oblivious to the curious stares and whispered comments of the staff. It was Ruth, preternaturally sensitive to anything regarding her daughter, who began to notice the surreptitious glances, the cluster of people constantly near her daughter’s crib.
“You’re hiding something from me,” she told Jerry Frames accusingly. “There’s something wrong with Dorotea.”
“There’s not a thing wrong with her, Ruth,” Jerry replied sharply and thrust the baby’s chart at her. “You’ve enough pediatrics to read the medical notations. Go ahead.”
Ruth scanned the sheets quickly, then reread word and graph, checking the laboratory reports of body function, the cerebral and cardiac readings, even the nourishment intake and eliminations. There was definitely nothing abnormal about Dorotea. Even her chromosome mapping was XX/healthy/normal. Reassured, Ruth passed the clipboard back, and smiling confidently, continued to nurse her child.
Frames later said that he’d had a moment of pure panic because he couldn’t remember how much genetic training Ruth had had or might remember. Op Owen assured him that his instinctive impulse had been the only possible course under the circumstances.
“It’s exceedingly fortunate, though, Jerry,” the director said, his eyes active with speculation, “that they are already under the Center’s protection. That child must have every safeguard we can provide. I want equipment installed in her nursery, tuned to her pattern day and night. If what we suspect is correct, it may manifest itself in her first six months. Can you imagine the strides we can make in formulating an early childhood program with such a superb example?”
“A pure case of doing what comes naturally.”
“Nothing must interfere with that child’s development.”
“I still don’t see why we’ve kept it from the parents. Are you stepping down from your “know-all, tell-all’ pedestal after all?”
Op Owen returned the physician’s sardonic look.
“I’m not a precog, but I felt a strong reluctance to inform Lajos.”
“Why? He’d be walking nine feet tall to think he produced such a Talented child.”
“Haven’t we changed sides, Jerry?”
“It’s one thing to withhold information from the unwashed public, but another to clam up on one of the gang.”
“We don’t know positively that Dorotea Horvath is …”
“Come off it Dave. Cecily King is a strong TP and she
heard
that child protest birth. Oh, I know that some of ’em can cry out in the womb but this was no physical cry or it would have been audible to the rest of the delivery room personnel. Is your stumbling block Ruth Horvath?”
Op Owen nodded slowly.
“Well, that makes a little more sense, although I’d say she’d welcome her daughter’s Talent. A kind of vindication that she’s never been
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